No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2003-07-29 - 12:31 a.m.

spam bad, venting

For several reasons, I have recently become obsessed with spam.

First off, I get a lot of it. I mean, seriously, a lot. Usually averaging over a hundred a day. Lemme tell you, that's a hell of a lot of viagra, and me with no outlet for it.

Secondly, I am searching for a new web host for BigSis' site, because our current webhost (whose litany of stupidity would take days to relate) has gotten blacklisted by AOL's mail servers. Not being able to send email to anyone at with an AOL email address. That tends to kill a business.

So I'm searching for new web hosts, and I'm asking them really specific, pointed questions about mail servers, and spam, and open relays and things I barely understand.

And I've decided.

Ummm...you know. Spam is bad.

Bear with me, I'm really busy, and really tired and under a lot of pressure right now.

It's pretty much the best I could come up with.

Oh yeah, and just cause soap operas never really end, I ran into ShyGirl on Saturday night. She refused to respond to my greetings, or acknowledge my presence. I, sensing a long night of bullshit, decided to cut out on my friends and go home early. (And while I'm sure that was the best thing for my overall sanity level, it pretty much pissed me off that she'd managed to ruin yet another night out with my friends.)

Anyway, I got a voice mail from her yesterday saying that she was really, really mad at me, because I'd "waved and smiled as if it hadn't been another month since we'd talked".

So, by trying to be friendly, I was apparently a dick.

And yeah, so I haven't talked to her for a bit. a) I've been outrageously busy, and b) we broke up. That whole not seeing each other, not talking to each other thing, I kinda thought that was part and parcel to the breaking up thing.

I want us to be friends, but right now I'd settle for being able to be in the same room without it being a huge drama, and being able to have a conversation where I'm not the bad guy. Jesus, sometimes she tries my patience.

Sorry. Venting. I'm done now.

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