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08.06.16 - 10:46 PM

Because Masturbation Is Fun And There's Lots Of Good Stuff On TV

Haven't gotten much done since coming home from work early this afternoon...

I doubt this qualifies as "getting something done", but I did finally watch Straight Outta Compton (Which I received as a "For Your Consideration" DVD from SAG during last year's award season).

It was really good.

And while I was watching the movie, I deposited a boat-load of small residual checks - most of which I'd gotten in yesterday's mail - totaling a little under $300 (It's funny - For the longest time, I wanted my credit union to get the app where you can deposit checks by just taking a picture of them, and eventually, they did - Yay! Then it took me a hot minute to go from being happy about it, to it being a tedious chore to procrastinate over like I do everything else, which just goes to show - life just can't be made easy enough for me).

And I just checked my wallet, and found more checks (About $175 worth).

Which reminds me of something I'm grateful for, but don't think I've mentioned - I worry about money all the time (And it's a worry that's ratcheted up again lately). But the fact is, I frequently am walking around with checks in my wallet, waiting till it's convenient for me to go to the credit union, or now, just open the app.

The point being, I can't recall the last time I had to rush to make a deposit, for fear a check would bounce or I wouldn't be able to buy groceries or pay rent.

That's not nothing.

Speaking of paying rent, my rent is going up next month.

It's never the happiest time of year - the yearly rent increase - but this year it's particularly unpleasant, because the rent increase that's usually about $25 a month has jumped to $75-a-month.


Because the rich people who own my apartment building have to get richer faster, at my fucking expense.

That's why.


Sun 8/7/16 (3:10 pm)

Just heard that a guy I knew back in Lansing, Bruce R., has died, found dead in his apartment after not showing up for his Mother's memorial service (His Mom, Leonore, was a beloved pillar of the Lansing theater community, the Riverwalk Theatre in particular).

I wasn't close to Bruce - on the contrary, I didn't really like him (His social skills were...not good. I found him "a lot to take" every time I interacted with him) - but the news shocks and saddens me nevertheless.

Nobody knows what happened at this point, but because he wasn't that old - around my age, maybe a little older - because he was very close to his mother (Who was probably the only person in the world who loved and accepted him completely), and because the timing is just too poignant to be an accident, I'm going to speculate wildly and say I think he killed himself.

And my wild speculation makes me sad - The idea that a 50-something year old man would kill himself upon the death of his mother, because she's all he had in the world, is a heartbreaking notion.

(If you're a regular reader, you know this would typically be the portion of the entry where I'd connect this sadness to my personal sadness, and make something that isn't about me at all, all about me...but I don't think I wanna do that at the moment.)


Monday is my regular day off, and typically, I'm basically killing time during the day, until Zumba class in the evening.

But tomorrow I'm having lunch with my friend Josh in the morning (Unless he gets word he has a wardrobe fitting for the commercial he just booked).

Then in the afternoon, I have an appointment with a dentist an oral-maxillofacial doctor, to get an "oral appliance" made to combat my sleep apnea.

And in between the Doctor's appointment and Zumba, I'll likely be calling "Kat", who recently contacted me via Tinder.

(Yes, because it worked out so fucking well the first time, I'm giving a Tinder connection another shot.)

Like the first time, this is someone I "liked", then messaged, then forgot about when nothing seemed to come of it, who then contacted me a good while after-the-fact (Once again, I feel like we're not quite doing Tinder right here. But anyway...).

Her name is "Kat", her picture seems "real" (Not a black-and-white glamour shot from the 80s she's trying to pass off as "recent"), and her profile was funny (Ditto our brief online interaction - She nixed "meeting near a dumpster, or the trunk of your car", in case I was a serial killer), far so good.

If anything, I'm more concerned about what she makes of me than vice-versa - Like what's-her-face previously, "Kat" is responding to a message I sent while I was still gray-haired and bearded, a look pretty much universally preferred to...well, to "Kermit" (I told her I had to change my "look" because of Shameless, and shave my beard and dye my hair. But I don't know if she's checked my profile to see what I'm talking about or not).

As I write this, remembering how bummed I was after the last outing, I'm kind of surprised I'm up for another so soon (I expect, if we can find some mutually agreeable time, that we'll be doing whatever-it-is-we're-doing, sometime this coming week).

I guess while I struggle to come up with a very compelling reason to live (most times, the best I can manage is, "Masturbation is fun, and there's a lot of good things on TV"), there's a part of me that's not quite dead yet...

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