Essays on Go, Team Internet!
I woke up bummed out and I listened to The Smiths on the way to work and now I'm borderline on suicide watch*
*not really suicidal
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Late Night Melancholies...
:) When I can't sleep, I probably shouldn't listen to electronic indy emo music. It makes me thoughtful and doesn't aid sleep in the slightest.
I've noticed lately how my life can be divided into pretty clear periods. And that friendships tend to not carry over from one to the other. I move on, become a different person, and lose touch with even the best of my friends. Seeing this pattern, does that mean that all my relationships will be transient? Does that make the joys I experience in those few revealing moments any less real?
I wonder a lot if what I really want is a streak of uninterrupted happy. I wonder if there's some sort of mental state where I can find contentment and happiness, some sort of "final stage" of my life that I'm progressing towards. Each evolution so far has been a good one: I've become deeper and more complicated, stronger and smarter with each era I've passed through. I've lost innocence along the way. I've lost tolerance and the broad acceptance of humanity that seems to only come from the very young and the very religious. I don't mean acceptance in the sense of "I'm okay with you doing whatever you want." I mean it more in the sense of... having the capacity to love someone regardless of their talents, past existence, or what have you. Finding joy in everyone. I miss being able to do that, but I don't know how to reconnect with it.
I'm always ready to move on before the period of life I'm in is over with. My last year of my undergrad I had already checked out mentally. In my head I was done with high school the summer before my senior year. The year before that jump to the next stage was always built up to be trepidatious: Junior High will be far more difficult than grade school. High School is where things really get serious. College will shape you more than anything else. Graduate School is going to be super tough.
And it's yet to be accurate. If anything, school has gotten progressively easier as I've gone along. Less busy work, fewer assignments for more points. More self-directed work. As I go on, I find myself surfing on the event horizon of failure without a second thought of falling. I worry about little petty things and get caught up in emotional quandries. I think myself out of being happy and am constantly dissapointed in myself in spite of successes that I should be damned proud of.
I test high, on everything. My grades have only gotten better as school has gone on. Straight As this first year of grad school. I graduated Cum Laude in the Honors college in my undergrad. Top 10% of my high school class. Gifted programs all up through school. And in spite of it all, it's never made me feel special or important. I've never felt like anything I've done has mattered. And the only ways I've found I can find happiness are through doing small, gratifying things for myself: playing video games, reading, enjoying quiet thoughtful time alone. I never reach goals. I never celebrate my successes. Because every waypoint I hit just causes the next to pop up. I grab the flag, but there's always another one. The road never ends, and a thousand people have been down it before me. All I'm ever doing is figuring out what someone figured out years before me.
And I'm wondering how I'm supposed to find gratification or achievement considering all this. Or if those are things I need to be happy.
I'm tired of being special just like everyone else.
Ok so. My desperate friend.
If you're not familiar with my desperate friend, please see this thread:
http://goteaminternet.com/show/19627
My desperate friend. She's not giving up! She's talking about going into the restaurant where the guy works AGAIN, and asking him "when are we hanging out?" She says if he doesn't do anything after that, then she's forgetting about him. But I actually doubt she will.
She's asking me what she should wear, cause she has "to look super good this time."
But he is so obviously NO LONGER INTERESTED IN HER. HE HASN'T CALLED HER AFTER 2 MONTHS OF EXCHANGING PHONE NUMBERS. And I don't want to see my friend get rejected and/or heartbroken. And our best friend and I don't know if we should talk to her about it, or just let her do what she wants.
And I feel stupid meddling in her business to begin with. I just don't want her to be all sad. Hmph.
A game: Change One Letter.
Rules:
1. You can only change one letter at a time
2. You can switch two letters at a time (par->rap is good)
3. You can only add or subtract one letter at a time
4. The word has to found on www.dictionary.com
5. You can't reuse a word
6. If someone says a word and no one can continue it, a new word is started
My rights, my privacy, my BALLS.
So now everyone at work is demanding that I un-privatize my blog. Would anyone care to explain to me how the fuck this is any of their business? I've been told "Since I can't see it, I'm going to assume you're badmouthing the company". Assume all you want. I am not and it wouldn't be your business even if I was because I have never once mentioned where I work, nor the full names of anyone at the company. The argument is "Well if you have nothing to hide, why not just make your blog public?" Well because it's none of your fucking business and I don't have to! This is America, so eat me. I have not slandered the company in any way and they have no grounds on which to read my private thoughts.
It has gone as far as one of my coworkers befriending my
Myspace friends to try and, I don't know, infiltrate my private life
somehow? I've been harassed at home on my days off about Myspace. Yes
you read correctly, MYSPACE. I could also perhaps add the fact that I
told my coworkers I don't even use myspace, but one of them actually
did a name search on me and added me, which I reluctantly agreed to to
try and keep the drama out of the workplace.
This job is an absolute
nightmare. And I am dead serious when I say that if my private life
gets brought up ONE more time at work, I will report the company for
harassment. I know I won't receive any compensation because workers
have no rights in Arizona. And I don't care. But the idea of another
employee being subjected to this insanity churns my stomach.
So
since I have nothing to hide, why don't I just let them read the damned
blog? Because I will not be intimidated into giving up my rights.
Because this is America and they can blow me!
Today on BUS!
Drunk guy spouts various quips to every passenger! Mexican lady has NINE children! Homeless crazy lady talks and laughs to herself! I paid off my second house in Animal Crossing! Old lady who's probably done almost every drug I can think of has way too many wrinkles! Mexican Jimi Hendrix packs a spliff while listening to Sublime!
Hellzapoppin'
Slim and Slam, followed by Whitey's Lindy Hoppers performing possibly the best swing dance routine ever captured on film.
Vout O Rooney
A follow up to @Reamworks continuing series of music education for you kids, here's Slim Galliard:
On dumb, insensitive bitches...
So this girl I went to my undergrad with was really good mutual friends my now ex, and decently good friends with me. She talked to me for the first time in at least 5 months yesterday, and in less that 15 minutes has brought up and talked about my ex until I told her "I could give a fuck" and signed off. Not only my ex, but everyone who is hoooking up with/marrying who in Springfield.
My ex is engaged now, to the douche she rebounded to after me. No one likes him apparently. And they've set a date for next year some time. She thought all of this was information I'd be excited to hear. It came close to ruining my day, and I had to make out with a chubby girl on my couch I met on OKcupid to wash it out of my brain.
And now I've got a sore throat, so the chubby girl was probably diseased. Great.
Fun fun fun with AIM.
Tonight at work, this lady threatened to walk out if I didn't change the music.
I stood there waiting for her to leave, she stood there waiting for me to turn it off. After about five minutes of staredown, I went to the stereo system and turned up the volume a bit, then went back to staring at her. She then asked to see the manager. I told her I'd be right back. I went into the kitchen and drew a moustache on my finger and went back out. I put my finger moustache on and said in my Moviefone voice, "HELLO. I'M THE MANAGER. WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE PROBLEM?" The lady stares at me a bit longer and then FINALLY walks away, yelling something about how my restaurant was run by a bunch of teenagers.
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