The three CDs with all the songs that I collected for the 25th anniversary party got thrown out without being listened to. They weren’t even given to the tech-savvy nephew by the niece throwing the party
They decided “to go another way,” even though they didn’t even know what they had.
I walked out of the house where they were previewing the slideshow I suggested and for which I found the images.
It’s not that big a deal. But a car ride with This American Life telling about how the Johns Hopkins study of civilan casualties in Iraq — now estimated at 600,000 souls — was dismissed by a quote from a guy who never read it and isn’t a statistican, well, that is a big deal.
Much of my thin skin is this rooted in this election cycle. Our local House race is filthy, with an incumbent Reuplican who loves lobbyists and has some issue with his wife that required a police visit, is banging the hell out of a fresh faced Democrat.
My father loves the natter bang bong where these partisans duke it out, so it fills the room in which I sleep.
I know it’s this fundy shit that leaves me battered, which is why I didn’t go off the handle at my work being thrown out without consideration, which is still bad. If you don’t want to be dissapointed, just remember not to do anything for anyone, no matter how much you want to give something special.
I am as tight as the smile on Lynne Cheney’s face.
And it feels bad, real bad.