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2001-10-31 / 3:42 p.m. ~See a Tree, Cut it Down~ Hey, funny thing is�when you lock up your diary�no one reads it! I guess people don�t want to be bothered with entering a username and password every single time, easier to read the diaries that are the �click and read� kind. Just goes to show the level of dedication in my �fan base�. Not that no one is reading, a couple people are, they are pausing to enter the letters in the appropriate spaces, but just a couple. And isn�t that what I wanted? Keep out the assholes, write just for me, and for you few who seem to care about what you read here, for whatever reason? Yeah, that was the intent, but like any attention-whore, I miss the �attention� of strangers reading this. Last night I changed templates, but it was very brief. I suddenly wanted a whole new look, a new diary, but nothing I tried was as good as what I have right now. Isn�t life like that a lot of the time? Best just to stick with what one has, best to know that what you have right in front of you is the best you�re going to find. I�m at work as I write this, it�s that post-lunch naptime time of day. I�ve had my Hardee�s Hot Ham �N Cheese, my fries, and it�s time for a little nap, but at work there is no napping. Unless it�s with one�s eyes wide open, ever alert for the all important phone call from the employee with the pressing need. Joy. At home for lunch I made a gruesome discovery�they chopped up my tree�again!!! There is a young pine outside my porch, it screens my porch, my apartment, from the building perpendicular to mine, but management has seen fit to butcher it every two years or so, cut off ALL the lower branches, and this time�this time�it�s HORRIBLE! It�s so awful, I just kept looking, seeing nothing but the blue of the vinyl siding of that building perpendicular to mine, the blue siding, the windows with blinds thankfully drawn, no more branches, no more tree, just bare spots, open wounds, and blue of the vinyl. HORRIBLE. I just kept looking, shaking my head, saying something like, �OH NO! HOW HORRIBLE! OH NO! HOW COULD THEY?!�, and then, �OH NO� a few more times. Last time they did this I went to them immediately, management, was really upset, it was my birthday in fact, and I could hardly contain my anger, my disappointment, my sadness, my disgust, but it was done�what could I do? This time as well, it�s done. I went to work, I came home for lunch, it had been done, the damage done. Nothing I can do. (It�s like the little Paul Frank alarm clock I just bought a month or so ago, I knocked it to the floor first thing this morning, the plastic face is all scuffed up, scratches won�t come off, they�re ingrained, and it�s ruined, but it�s done, no use crying over spilled milk, scuffed alarm clocks, tree branches removed�) I do have vertical blinds in front of the sliding glass doors and I will be utilizing them now, but that sucks, you know? That sucks that I now have to do that. It sucks that they saw those branches as a danger, as an impediment, and it is MY apartment affected, no other, NO other, just me, just my view, for the second time, the butchering worse than before. I seriously considered moving. I thought, okay, lease is up in April, that�s it, I�m out of here, but�I don�t know if it�s that bad. Where would I go? Who would help me? All my friends are no longer my friends, or they�re in different parts of the country now, or soon will be. Hire people? At what cost?? I don�t have the money. My view has shifted, has changed, and without my consent. Isn�t that the major metaphor for the rest of my life? I feel sick just thinking about all I�ve written, without proofreading it, not yet, I feel ill, thinking about that tree, about the fact that I can bitch and moan all I want, but it�s DONE. It�s over. Just like last time, complaining won�t bring those limbs back, complaining won�t turn that monstrosity they left outside my porch into the actual tree it once was. Oh, the hell of living in an area that has NO RESPECT for nature. Ack. My depression that�s been coming and going is mostly coming and staying. Little things keep happening, little connections broached, lost, pursued, held onto, let go of, and nothing is constant, everything is in flux. I wonder consistently at my purpose, grow forever tired of being alive. Tonight Ralph Nader speaks at Emory University, but I�m not sure I�m going. I imagine a large crowd, and I might rather stay home to watch �The Amazing Race�, tape �Felicity� in the living room to watch later. It�s the �where do I park?� and �which building is it?� and �who will I run into?� and �what if I don�t run into anyone?� questions which plague me. But I think of my mother, and how much she loved Ralph Nader! LOVED!!! I mean I think she would�ve married the guy, that�s how she felt. He was the consumer advocate in the early �70s, the one who stood for all things good, for assisting the little guy, the average Joe/Jill, for bashing the big Corporations, taking them to task for all the inferior products they peddle, and isn�t he the one who spearheaded Consumer Reports magazine??? The magazine so pure they don�t even accept advertisements? No money from advertisers??!! My mother, and my father, both subscribed to that mag for years! So, he�s here, now a former Presidential candidate, and I could go listen to him speak, in a hall with hundreds of others, on Halloween, or I could stay home and watch Reality TV. Decisions, decisions. Last time they butchered the pine, I saw it at lunch, I bitched and moaned, adrenaline filling my speech, after work I came home and cried looking at it. This time�I don�t know if I can stand to look. It�s so horrible. How could they? How could they? Cost of the War in Iraq
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