Dancing With Myself

I hate everyone. Well, that’s not entirely true, but far too many people take me for granted.

I’d like to apologize in advance, as this is going to be one of my more misanthropic posts.

Two of my friends are greatly pissing me off right now. You might argue that it is rude to call them out in a public forum such as this one, but I would counter that if they don’t want to be called out, they should stop being such shitty friends. See, I hosted a Doctor Who screening this weekend for everyone who hadn’t seen me while I was away at school to come and catch up. Out of the nine people invited, one showed up. One. Some had excuses, and since I am a forgiving evil mastermind, I suppose I can let some of their absences slide. Two of them, however, are not so easily forgiven. Those two are a brother and sister who have been my friends for over a decade now, if memory serves. They have a long history of being difficult to get in touch with, so busy are they with their various commitments that I usually have to try several times before I can make time to see them. They are aware of how much this irks me. The brother’s response is to apologize far too much, whereas the sister usually says nothing at all. I don’t like either approach very much. They seem to be expecting the other’s shortcomings to mask their own, or something like that. What made me especially angry was that I had bought them both Christmas gifts and was looking forward to handing them to them. But since neither could be bothered to see me (or even to return my messages, in the sister’s case), I had to drive to their parents’ place and leave the gifts on their doorstep. The brother apologized for not making the Who screening, but I kind of saw that coming, as I’ve learned by now to interpret “I might be able to make it later on” as “I won’t be able to make it”. Really, I just wish he’d stop texting me with stupid questions and repeated apologies, as if that could make up for his unwillingness to see me. It’s pathetic, and it’s not the mark of a good friend.

My failure to find stable housing is starting to feel like a string of bad relationships. And I’m never the one who ends it. I move somewhere, try to settle down, and the person I live with decides that they don’t want to live with me anymore. It’s that simple. I just want sex and conversation (I’m talking about relationships now, not apartments), and have met a great many men who might have interested me in those departments. Whether or not it would have worked out with those guys in the long run is irrelevant. I had any number of straight boy crushes in high school (a rite of passage for any young homo), and in retrospect, there were things keeping us apart that ran far deeper than our differing sexual preferences. I just wish I could be the one to make the call for a change.

I just watched Star Trek: Insurrection and true to its reputation, it wasn’t very good. Bland, low-stakes drama with a one-dimensional villain that basically felt like a mediocre Next Generation episode that had been stretched out to feature length. That has long been a problem for Star Trek films, although I feel that The Motion Picture is unfairly maligned in that it, at least, feels like an above-average episode (of the Original Series, not TNG) that has been stretched to feature length. It is, as its critics have said, long, ponderous, and slow, but for me, it stopped just short of boring. The filmmakers were clearly aping 2001, and the result was a film that featured some ravishing visuals and reaffirmed human values of love and compassion, just like the series that inspired it. Going in with lowered expectations, I tried to simply sit back and drink it in, ending up with an experience that was, while not amazing, not entirely unmemorable.

Why am I telling you this? I don’t know. I just got back to New York after a quiet New Year (I stayed in and read. It wasn’t that bad, I suppose) and am about to move my stuff into my new apartment. It’s a tiny place, but liveable, and the landlord is charging me a lower rent provided that I commit to living there for at least six months. So at the very least, I might break my streak of not staying in one place for more than three months. (Seriously, it hasn’t happened since May 2011.) Wish me luck.

As I write this, I’m in the middle of moving my things into my new apartment. It’s kind of draining. I told Robert I’d be gone by the 1st, but since he’s out of town, I decided to push my luck a little. Since I don’t know when he’ll be back, perhaps I should get a move on, but as my new place is only 20 streets away, I elected to ferry my belongings one box at a time via subway rather than packing all of them into a cab like I used to. It’s cheaper, but time-consuming and exhausting. So I might have to just leave some stuff at the old place and sleep in the new one tonight. I haven’t even had dinner yet.

So yeah, that’s where I’m at right now. Move along, everyone.

Oh, and here’s a fun old 80s song. And a completely random article about technology that uses a rather clever metaphor to illustrate its point.


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