another shitty morning

still feeling like a warmed-over wad of poo.
i had disturbing dreams-- in one of them, India and Pakistan had nuked each other and all the members of my immediate family had hurried home to be together when the inevitable nuclear escalation began (for some odd reason, Katy was in the States, living here, and drove a Volkswagen Jetta or something, and Fiona drove some Volkswagen car, and I made some comment about how I was the only one who drove a jeep anymore... but i don't drive a jeep, all of my sisters do... sheesh)... that segued into something about Palestine, so I was obviously pretty confused.
I worked myself into such a state yesterday, over those parking tickets and over not being qualified for any jobs anymore (as my brain has turned into mush) that I was still depressed this morning, so much so that I let Zobar go out without a jacket or sweater or even a long-sleeved shirt, and I can see by my little weatherbug taskbar icon that it's 39 degrees outside and not likely to get much over 45.
He got ready early so he sat for fifteen minutes snuggling with me and saying various encouraging things. When he went to leave, I clung to his leg and he skritched my hair for a few moments and I for absolutely no reason began to cry silently. I don't know why. I didn't get any snot on his pants, though, through dint of considerable effort, and stood up and hugged him goodbye, and he said some funny things, and went to work.
That's when I noticed, looking out the window as he got into his car, that he was wearing short sleeves, and coming back into the bedroom I noticed that it was 39. Yyyeah. Cold.
He'll be OK. He's a big boy. And, his car's heater is pretty effective.
But I'm obviously in a ridiculously unstable mood today. Which is rather a handicap when it comes to me just getting the hell on with all the crap I was trying to get on with today.
I'm going to go into the City and sit in Barnes and Noble for several hours and look up the contact information of magazines, and note down their precise topics. After that, I'm going to sit down and think hard about any possible topics I could write on. Then, I'm going to come home and come up with a few pitches for possible stories, and I'm going to type them up, print them out, and send them to the relevant companies.
First I have to angle for relatively small magazines, as I have absolutely no publishing credits. Perhaps simultaneously I could submit some more stuff to online places; while those don't count in the publishing world, maybe they might pay me some paltry sum, and perhaps help me polish my style. At least give me something to do.
But I don't want to write porn...
Well. Maybe if they paid well.

*sigh*

(no subject)

AOL Anywhere (tm) is being really weird and dumb. And I have no messages anyhow. Sigh.
Reading the Village Voice makes me feel like the rest of the world is so incalculably superior to me in cleverness... I always wanted to write a novel but so many other people are writing some so much better than anything I could come up with... I have my moments of brilliance but never a whole novel.
Which brings me back to my earlier theme of despair (which i don't think i got around to writing about, being mostly content to brood on it in the warm solitude of the shower) over how mind-numbingly identical my depression/despair/angst/creative urge/cleverness is to that of everyone else in the world. Yesterday I posted a despairing lj post about how worthless I felt, only to view my friends page and note that one of my lj friends had just posted something approaching the exact same thing, only tailored to his circumstances, which were arguably more dire than my own.
Sigh.

But, reverend_dave has invited me to come see this movie tonight. Which sounds vastly more entertaining than a futile evening staring up at the wall and attempting to stave off despair.
No, I'm usually OK in the evenings when Dave's home and amusing me. He's more amusing than he realizes.
I just had a guy come over and ask me if there was a way to move back in a paragraph without using the backspace key. I pointed out the arrow keys on the keyboard and he was overjoyed. [later edit: i've also taught him about the "back" button on the browser. He thought that was pretty neat too. I even clicked it for him. He kept asking me stuff and I thought I'd best come help him. He was wowed.]
I'm in alt.coffee, by the way, a sweet little webcafe on ave a & 9th st. [i know most of you know that and in fact some of you gave me directions to it in the first place, but i'm pretending like i have a wider audience and am therefore introducing the setting], just across from tompkins sq. park. Overpriced coffees as usual, but sweet in their own way. And wireless. Yay! Not the speediest wireless access... but one of the better webcafes i've been in. Apparently their wired access isn't so bad either; they're pro-rated, so you only pay for the time you actually spend, which is better than many. Any others I've seen, anyway.

So. I just spent three hours in Barnes and Noble, looking at magazines. I couldn't really find one I could write for. Hm. I don't really know very much. It's kind of scary. I think I'm just fated never to become a freelancer. I'm not that much of a wussy twit, am I? I just can't find a magazine I'd ever be able to contribute to. not one that would pay me for it, anyway.
sigh.
so that was futile. but at least i did it. I looked at about 300 magazines. You realize there's a specialty magazine for everything... Calvin wasn't far off, with his Chewing magazine for gum enthusiasts...
argh, apple mail receives every message twice. that's confusing me.
i wish there was an audible notification message... but that has more to do with the speakers, the tininess thereof, than the program.
i can hear iChat's notification sound, though.
I'm iChatting with Corey. he initiated the conversation shortly after I signed on.
Corey (3:03 pm) I need a hobby: can i cyberstalk you?

For a cyberstalker, he's sure ignoring me a lot. Zobar keeps joking that Corey secretly wants me. I'd say that'd be a neat trick; he's only met me once. Tho' Zobar and I conducted most of our relationship online in our early days, so it's not an unheard-of thing. But still. I think secretly, Zobar wants Corey, and I'm not really in this at all except in some kind of twisted surrogate weirdness.

i'm just meandering now. but i feel better, just being in the city. i was going to apply to a bunch of jobs; i forwarded the ads to the email address i'm using just now, on iMail or AppleMail or whatever it is... but i haven't really gotten around to it. I might. I have trouble typing on this keyboard. i should cut my nails. they're kind of long anyhow.
man, these are ugly lamps, that they've got here.
i just can't focus on anything in particular to be coherent... long enough to type an email? not really.
a swarm of identical girls in tight jeans and trendy sneakers (mostly converse. sorry, zobar) have just converged on this corner. the bathroom. the downside of the back room is that it's kind of... all centered around access to the bathroom. yikes.
nice makeup, girls. did you all do it for each other? aww. cute.
man, i'm bitchy.
i read a bunch of dumb things at b&n today. one was a Guide to Spooning. Jeez. I read it because I was like, how did they write a whole book about this? Well... I still don't really know. It was full of insanely mundane stuff and tons of totally unfounded speculation. I didn't actually read the whole thing. I just skimmed it. I was there to look at magazines, right? Which I did. I also picked up Betty Dodson's Orgasms For Two, the sequel to her revolutionary book Sex For One... it was quite interesting. She expressed most of the same opinions as me about "female ejaculation"... I'm like, I can do that. I do that every day. I don't need a vibrator either. I just... pee. Dude. I don't piss myself when I get excited either. But, just like sophomore year in college, when the frat boys were all excited about female ejaculation, nobody listens to me. Me and Betty, minority opinions. Maybe I need to follow her advice and exercise my PC muscles more. I dunno. I probably won't get around to it. I'm sure they're more than adequate for my purposes.
H'm [perusing the coffee shop population]... I haven't done the "angry girl in pigtails" look for a while.
i has an hour until i goes. i wants to go and get another drinkie but i doesn't know if i should leave computer unattended. but then... it's a dead-end room. anyone likely to take it? i feel i should give these people more business since i'll be using their wireless and electricity for like 2.5 hrs total. hmm... maybe i'll chance it. it's not my computer to risk. but i don't think there's much of a risk. it's not real crowded... anyhow. yes. i think i'll post this and then go ponder.
not that i've even said anything yet. but still... it's what i do, here, online.