Here we are, two days into class and I am already somewhat bored by them. Maybe it is because they were the "Here is the syllabus. . . and now I will read it to you" class periods. Regardless, most of the following was written during my classes today.
____________________
So yeah . . . I am writing this while listening to Hartley ramble on about Social Psychology. He and his salmon colored shirt are annoying me. His teaching style thus far has not impressed me. He is rambling at two miles a minute, sidetracks himself from his lecture, and has said the word 'uh' approximately 40 times in the past minute and a half.
Because of this, I am letting my mind wander, and I decided to write down my thoughts. Right now I have a song stuck in my head - "She Is" by The Fray. The chorus of the song states, "She is everything I need that I never knew I wanted. She is everything I want that I never knew I needed."
I love the song (one of my current top two in fact), but every time I listen to it, two questions pop into my head.
1. Who is she?
2. Sure, she's everything I want and need, but am I anything she wants or needs?
____________________
Ok, that was rather pointless, but it shows the odd tangents my mind gets off to when I let it. Unlike most people, when I hear a song, I don't just listen to the lyrics. I analyze the lyrics and try to fit them into some sort of context and meaning. I poke and prod the lyrics until I find some weird analogy or question I can press them into and BAM . . .I sound crazy.
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A brief interlude for class 2. I am sitting here in Abnormal Psych and Pulver is barely even putting up his thin veneer of tolerance for me. It makes me laugh, but I am going to tolerate him, suck it up, and get through the class as quickly and cleanly as possible. Well, back to pretending I care one whit what he is talking about.
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Class #3, and here in Professional Seminar, Chau has been reading straight from the syllabus for 50 minutes. This class is going to be interesting for me. The majority of our work here has vague deadlines. My procrastinatory nature will make this hard for me, but I will hopefully find some way to force myself to work on things in advance. . . . I hope.
____________________
Ok, so now I have another song stuck in my head. Earlier it was "She Is", and funnily enough I associate this next song with "She Is".
I first heard "Find Yourself" by Brad Paisley the night the movie Cars came out (yayy for working at a Drive-In theater). When I first heard the part of the song that states "When you meet the one that you've been waiting for, and she's everything you want and more" I was struck by the sentiment in those words. I also felt that they were somewhat lacking and said as much to my co-worker. I told him that the lyrics should have been more along the lines of "When you meet the one you've waited for and she's all you ever needed but didn't know you wanted".
About a week later, I bought myself The Fray's album "How To Save A Life" and popped it into my car's CD player as I drove home. When the chorus to song number 1 started I starting laughing so hard I almost cried. Song number 1 was "She Is" and if you have read the beginning of this post you know that the chorus of the song is almost identical to the lyrics I suggested to my co-worker.
_______________________
Well, that is the extent to which I wrote during my classes today. I now have another song in my head, but the reasoning behind having that song stuck in my head are quite different from the above. There was nothing that caused me to have "She Is" or "Find Yourself" stuck in my head, but this other song is stuck in my head for a reason . . . and I like it.
8/02/2006
I just don't know anymore. . .
Ok, so first the good news. . . my little brother has been home for a couple of days now (just now getting the time to write down stuff about it).
Now for the real reason I am writing this blog . . .
And oddly enough, three guys (although they are all tied to at least one of the women).
Of course, unlike the song I have no clue what is on most of these people's minds.
Let's start explaining why each of these people are on my mind. Two of the women on my mind . . . . I don't even know. I know of them both, but I have never met either of them and it is one of my buddy's fault that they are on his mind. For some reason I have him and his women problems on my mind . . . but I feel for him, so I don't hold it against him.
So, two down and five to go. Two of the other women on my mind I thought I had excised from my mind. I thought I had gotten myself so far from even thinking about them that it wouldn't bother me any more, but through the years and the mists of time thoughts of them have recently invaded my head and I don't really know why.
Ok, so only three more women and two more guys to explain away. The next woman . . . well I don't know what to think or feel about her. At points I think she may actually have feelings for me, and then the next minute it seems that she sees me as nothing more than a friend. Several of my friends say that "it is obvious" how she feels about me, but most of the time I just don't see it. Will I say anything about it? HELL NO! That has led me to nothing but pain, confusion, and ruined friendships in the past and I don't really think I could handle losing another friendship.
The next woman infuriates me at the moment. She is a nurse I met while my brother was in the hospital. We hit it off, swapped cell phone numbers, and have talked a few times since my brother got out of the hospital. I thought that maybe, just maybe something good had came of my brother's hospitalization. Then Tuesday we were chatting and she stopped the conversation with a shocker. It turns out that when we met she had just had a fight with her boyfriend and they decided to see other people. Well, on Tuesday morning he showed up at her door, told her how miserable he was without her, and asked her to marry him. Just another episode in the continuing saga of "Why George's Love Life Sucks".
The last woman on my mind is my mom, and the other two guys are my dad and little brother. I am thinking about them a lot lately because I am worried about how they are going to cope with things when I head back to school in less than a week. They have already taken off tons of time with my brother's illnesses, and me being home during the day has allowed them to continue working now that he is back home. I am worried that they will run themselves ragged working and watching him for the month before he heads back to school. Part of me thinks I should call up my bosses and tell them that I won't be able to make it to training so I can stay home and take care of him, but I know that my parents would never allow it because they would be so worried that I would lose my RA job. I dunno, I just dunno.
Grah! Well, it is time for me to try to get some sleep. I have to get up in a few hours to take my brother to the hospital for a checkup.
Now for the real reason I am writing this blog . . .
Well, I’m running down the road tryin’ to loosen my load
I’ve got seven women on my mind
And oddly enough, three guys (although they are all tied to at least one of the women).
Of course, unlike the song I have no clue what is on most of these people's minds.
Let's start explaining why each of these people are on my mind. Two of the women on my mind . . . . I don't even know. I know of them both, but I have never met either of them and it is one of my buddy's fault that they are on his mind. For some reason I have him and his women problems on my mind . . . but I feel for him, so I don't hold it against him.
So, two down and five to go. Two of the other women on my mind I thought I had excised from my mind. I thought I had gotten myself so far from even thinking about them that it wouldn't bother me any more, but through the years and the mists of time thoughts of them have recently invaded my head and I don't really know why.
Ok, so only three more women and two more guys to explain away. The next woman . . . well I don't know what to think or feel about her. At points I think she may actually have feelings for me, and then the next minute it seems that she sees me as nothing more than a friend. Several of my friends say that "it is obvious" how she feels about me, but most of the time I just don't see it. Will I say anything about it? HELL NO! That has led me to nothing but pain, confusion, and ruined friendships in the past and I don't really think I could handle losing another friendship.
The next woman infuriates me at the moment. She is a nurse I met while my brother was in the hospital. We hit it off, swapped cell phone numbers, and have talked a few times since my brother got out of the hospital. I thought that maybe, just maybe something good had came of my brother's hospitalization. Then Tuesday we were chatting and she stopped the conversation with a shocker. It turns out that when we met she had just had a fight with her boyfriend and they decided to see other people. Well, on Tuesday morning he showed up at her door, told her how miserable he was without her, and asked her to marry him. Just another episode in the continuing saga of "Why George's Love Life Sucks".
The last woman on my mind is my mom, and the other two guys are my dad and little brother. I am thinking about them a lot lately because I am worried about how they are going to cope with things when I head back to school in less than a week. They have already taken off tons of time with my brother's illnesses, and me being home during the day has allowed them to continue working now that he is back home. I am worried that they will run themselves ragged working and watching him for the month before he heads back to school. Part of me thinks I should call up my bosses and tell them that I won't be able to make it to training so I can stay home and take care of him, but I know that my parents would never allow it because they would be so worried that I would lose my RA job. I dunno, I just dunno.
Grah! Well, it is time for me to try to get some sleep. I have to get up in a few hours to take my brother to the hospital for a checkup.
7/18/2006
Letting my guard down
. . . . . . . Why?
How many fucking crosses does my little brother have to fucking bear?
Are cerebral palsy, mental retardation, Attention Deficit Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Pica not enough?
Apparantly not, because he just had two and a half feet of his small intestines removed because they became twisted and died. Right now he is in the intensive care unit of the hospital heavily sedated and unconscious so he can't pull out the various tubes and IV's they have him on. Apparantly he is going to be sedated like that for at least the next two days.
My parents are on the verge of breaking down. He was just starting to really recover from his leg surgery in April and then this happens. It seems whenever we start getting one of his problems under control a new one crops up.
Oh yeah, did I mention that it looks like he has spontaneously become diabetic?
At the moment I am sitting in my room with tears streaming down my cheeks as I write this. I am keeping myself composed and calm when I am around my parents because if they see me lose it I know that they won't be able to take it any more and they will both have breakdowns . . . my dad is just about there already. I am dead tired after getting up to take care of Tom yesterday morning when he started feeling sick, working last night, and then going to the hospital not once but twice today to ferry my parents back and forth and make sure they are taking care of themselves and eating (the place is 45 minutes away). And now I am getting ready to head to work for the night.
I am physically and emotionally drained and I want to know why the hell my little brother who is probably the closest thing to an innocent over the age of 5 I have ever seen has to suffer so much. This morning he was crying and begging my parents to give him something to drink, which of course we couldn't do because his bowels were twisted and anything that went into his stomach would just have to be suctioned out. He was even begging for pop - my little brother who has spit out every mouthful of every carbonated beverage he has ever tasted was begging for pop. . . .
I am glad I have this place to just vent and let out all the shit that is building up inside of me, because keeping it all inside when I am in front of my parents is so hard that sometimes I just want to scream.
Why Tom? Why can't it be some drug dealing, smut peddling, crackwhore and her pimp who have this type of shit happen to them? If there is some grand plan out there, why does it strike down the good people like my little brother and allow whores, pimps, and drugdealers to thrive?
Whew . . . . I feel a bit better now. Well . . . time to go to work and serve the masses their popcorn and pop.
How many fucking crosses does my little brother have to fucking bear?
Are cerebral palsy, mental retardation, Attention Deficit Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and Pica not enough?
Apparantly not, because he just had two and a half feet of his small intestines removed because they became twisted and died. Right now he is in the intensive care unit of the hospital heavily sedated and unconscious so he can't pull out the various tubes and IV's they have him on. Apparantly he is going to be sedated like that for at least the next two days.
My parents are on the verge of breaking down. He was just starting to really recover from his leg surgery in April and then this happens. It seems whenever we start getting one of his problems under control a new one crops up.
Oh yeah, did I mention that it looks like he has spontaneously become diabetic?
At the moment I am sitting in my room with tears streaming down my cheeks as I write this. I am keeping myself composed and calm when I am around my parents because if they see me lose it I know that they won't be able to take it any more and they will both have breakdowns . . . my dad is just about there already. I am dead tired after getting up to take care of Tom yesterday morning when he started feeling sick, working last night, and then going to the hospital not once but twice today to ferry my parents back and forth and make sure they are taking care of themselves and eating (the place is 45 minutes away). And now I am getting ready to head to work for the night.
I am physically and emotionally drained and I want to know why the hell my little brother who is probably the closest thing to an innocent over the age of 5 I have ever seen has to suffer so much. This morning he was crying and begging my parents to give him something to drink, which of course we couldn't do because his bowels were twisted and anything that went into his stomach would just have to be suctioned out. He was even begging for pop - my little brother who has spit out every mouthful of every carbonated beverage he has ever tasted was begging for pop. . . .
I am glad I have this place to just vent and let out all the shit that is building up inside of me, because keeping it all inside when I am in front of my parents is so hard that sometimes I just want to scream.
Why Tom? Why can't it be some drug dealing, smut peddling, crackwhore and her pimp who have this type of shit happen to them? If there is some grand plan out there, why does it strike down the good people like my little brother and allow whores, pimps, and drugdealers to thrive?
Whew . . . . I feel a bit better now. Well . . . time to go to work and serve the masses their popcorn and pop.
7/13/2006
You ever have one of 'those weeks'? You know, the ones where EVERYTHING just seems to happen at once? Well I just had one, and boy am I tired.
As Neil Gaiman put it in "Neverwhere" -
Well, I noticed that this past week or so.
I am not going to get into too many details, but a few of the highs/lows are as follows - my grandfather is on his deathbed, my godfather just got married and he and his kids are happier than I have seen them in years, we are showing two extremely long movies at work which is stretching my worknights into workmornings, my dogs have been acting insane recently, and even when I do get a chance to try and get some sleep I normally don't end up falling to sleep until the wee hours of the morning (normally around 4 or 5 in the morning).
Now that that is out of the way, I can get down to the real reason I am writing this post. The ideas behind this post started brewing last Thursday night, and I haven't found the time or energy to write them down until now.
Femmes!
I've said it before, and I will say it again - I don't understand women, and I know I never will. I don't think that there is a man in this world who truly understands women and the way their minds work. Oh sure, some guys may know how their wife thinks, but that is one woman. Women as a whole are one confusing bunch.
Now, after reading the above paragraph, many a woman would counter, "Women are easy to understand. Men are the confusing ones." Women may actually believe this argument, but the truth to that argument is that men seem confusing . . . because they are confused. Men don't know how to act around women because women say, do, and think different things. They say one thing, mean another, and think a third, but somehow they expect men to be fully cognizant of what they want.
A classic example is the "Where do you want to eat" dilemma. Most of the time when a man asks, "Hey, where do you want to eat", he will get one of the following responses: "I don't know", "I don't care", or "Oh, it doesn't matter, you pick". Do any of those three things really mean what they seem to mean? NO! They normally mean something more to the effect of "I know exactly where I want to eat, but I want you to prove that you know me and pick the place I want". Every once and a while a woman will be honest and actually say "How about (Insert overpriced eatery here)", and the man involved will internally dance a little happy dance.
Or how about the ever popular "Are you mad" question. Most women have several types of anger that they can express, and the most frustrating of these is the type where they profess to be completely calm, collected, and not in the least perturbed, and all the while they are seething inside about some slight that the man probably doesn't even realize he has committed. As the man remains blissfully unaware of his wrongdoing, the woman continues to allow her anger to build up without expressing it in any way other than to become slightly withdrawn (perhaps with a few surreptitious glares in the man's direction). When confronted about her behavior, the woman continues to deny any anger until finally exploding at the man.
Then there is always the question of what a woman wants in a man. I have heard countless women say that they look for a man who is "Smart, funny, kind" etc. etc. etc. Unfortunately I can count on my hands the number of times I have actually seen a guy who is all the things listed, but not physically very attractive, with one of these women. This is another case of women saying one thing, and their actions saying another. Far too many women date guys based solely on physical appearance, and then when the guys turns out to be an ass, complain that men are all jerks. A great many men are not jerks, but we are looked over because women are as shallow and hormonal as men (they just don't like to admit it).
Due to these - and other - situations, men have learned think things through and tread carefully around women at times, but these are not the main cause of stress between the sexes. In my opinion, the one situation which has caused more stress between men and women than anything else is the question of honesty.
Most men like to be honest about things. If a buddy is doing something stupid, men point it out. If a guy is wearing a hat that makes him look like a moron, his friends will point it out and tell him not to wear it.
Women claim to love honesty, but at times they prefer to be lied to. "How do I look?", "Does this dress make me look fat?", etc. . . . why do you ask these questions if you don't want us to be honest? If any man ever answered either of those questions with a "Sorry honey, that dress does not flatter your figure at all. Maybe you should wear that other one" he would not only be sleeping on the couch for the next week, but he would probably have a few things thrown at his head.
The question of honesty also comes into play when a guy has feelings for a woman. If a guy just comes out and says how he feels, he risks several possible complications. First, he could say it at the wrong time and make the woman upset and uncomfortable. Second, she may have no feelings for him whatsoever, in which case he has probably just flushed a friendship down the toilet by being honest. Third (and in some guys' cases most likely) he can get the always popular "I don't like you in that way", the "I don't know how to respond to that", the classic "You aren't boyfriend material", or my personal favorite "You are just too nice, and I don't want to ruin our friendship".
Of course, if he keeps these feelings in when she wants him to say them, then she can become upset that he is too closed up emotionally. Maybe, while he is wrestling with whether or not he should say anything (probably for fear of one of the above complications), she will decide that he doesn't have any feelings for him, not tell him, and just move on to one of the shallow pretty-boy asshats talked about a few paragraphs ago.
So, with all these confusing possibilities and complications fouling out male-female interactions, men muddle on slowly and confused. Do they tell the truth this time, or is this a case where the truth will get you slapped? Does she really not want to talk about what is wrong, or does she want you to just automatically know what is wrong and apoligize for it? Graaaaaah!!!
From now on, I just want everyone to be honest with me. If you want to say something, say it. Please don't hold back (except for you Mike and BJ . . . I don't even want to know what Mike is thinking, and I already know what BJ is thinking). Just cut through all the bullshit and come out with it already people.
As Neil Gaiman put it in "Neverwhere" -
Richard had noticed that events were cowards: they didn't occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once.
Well, I noticed that this past week or so.
I am not going to get into too many details, but a few of the highs/lows are as follows - my grandfather is on his deathbed, my godfather just got married and he and his kids are happier than I have seen them in years, we are showing two extremely long movies at work which is stretching my worknights into workmornings, my dogs have been acting insane recently, and even when I do get a chance to try and get some sleep I normally don't end up falling to sleep until the wee hours of the morning (normally around 4 or 5 in the morning).
Now that that is out of the way, I can get down to the real reason I am writing this post. The ideas behind this post started brewing last Thursday night, and I haven't found the time or energy to write them down until now.
Femmes!
I've said it before, and I will say it again - I don't understand women, and I know I never will. I don't think that there is a man in this world who truly understands women and the way their minds work. Oh sure, some guys may know how their wife thinks, but that is one woman. Women as a whole are one confusing bunch.
Now, after reading the above paragraph, many a woman would counter, "Women are easy to understand. Men are the confusing ones." Women may actually believe this argument, but the truth to that argument is that men seem confusing . . . because they are confused. Men don't know how to act around women because women say, do, and think different things. They say one thing, mean another, and think a third, but somehow they expect men to be fully cognizant of what they want.
A classic example is the "Where do you want to eat" dilemma. Most of the time when a man asks, "Hey, where do you want to eat", he will get one of the following responses: "I don't know", "I don't care", or "Oh, it doesn't matter, you pick". Do any of those three things really mean what they seem to mean? NO! They normally mean something more to the effect of "I know exactly where I want to eat, but I want you to prove that you know me and pick the place I want". Every once and a while a woman will be honest and actually say "How about (Insert overpriced eatery here)", and the man involved will internally dance a little happy dance.
Or how about the ever popular "Are you mad" question. Most women have several types of anger that they can express, and the most frustrating of these is the type where they profess to be completely calm, collected, and not in the least perturbed, and all the while they are seething inside about some slight that the man probably doesn't even realize he has committed. As the man remains blissfully unaware of his wrongdoing, the woman continues to allow her anger to build up without expressing it in any way other than to become slightly withdrawn (perhaps with a few surreptitious glares in the man's direction). When confronted about her behavior, the woman continues to deny any anger until finally exploding at the man.
Then there is always the question of what a woman wants in a man. I have heard countless women say that they look for a man who is "Smart, funny, kind" etc. etc. etc. Unfortunately I can count on my hands the number of times I have actually seen a guy who is all the things listed, but not physically very attractive, with one of these women. This is another case of women saying one thing, and their actions saying another. Far too many women date guys based solely on physical appearance, and then when the guys turns out to be an ass, complain that men are all jerks. A great many men are not jerks, but we are looked over because women are as shallow and hormonal as men (they just don't like to admit it).
Due to these - and other - situations, men have learned think things through and tread carefully around women at times, but these are not the main cause of stress between the sexes. In my opinion, the one situation which has caused more stress between men and women than anything else is the question of honesty.
Most men like to be honest about things. If a buddy is doing something stupid, men point it out. If a guy is wearing a hat that makes him look like a moron, his friends will point it out and tell him not to wear it.
Women claim to love honesty, but at times they prefer to be lied to. "How do I look?", "Does this dress make me look fat?", etc. . . . why do you ask these questions if you don't want us to be honest? If any man ever answered either of those questions with a "Sorry honey, that dress does not flatter your figure at all. Maybe you should wear that other one" he would not only be sleeping on the couch for the next week, but he would probably have a few things thrown at his head.
The question of honesty also comes into play when a guy has feelings for a woman. If a guy just comes out and says how he feels, he risks several possible complications. First, he could say it at the wrong time and make the woman upset and uncomfortable. Second, she may have no feelings for him whatsoever, in which case he has probably just flushed a friendship down the toilet by being honest. Third (and in some guys' cases most likely) he can get the always popular "I don't like you in that way", the "I don't know how to respond to that", the classic "You aren't boyfriend material", or my personal favorite "You are just too nice, and I don't want to ruin our friendship".
Of course, if he keeps these feelings in when she wants him to say them, then she can become upset that he is too closed up emotionally. Maybe, while he is wrestling with whether or not he should say anything (probably for fear of one of the above complications), she will decide that he doesn't have any feelings for him, not tell him, and just move on to one of the shallow pretty-boy asshats talked about a few paragraphs ago.
So, with all these confusing possibilities and complications fouling out male-female interactions, men muddle on slowly and confused. Do they tell the truth this time, or is this a case where the truth will get you slapped? Does she really not want to talk about what is wrong, or does she want you to just automatically know what is wrong and apoligize for it? Graaaaaah!!!
From now on, I just want everyone to be honest with me. If you want to say something, say it. Please don't hold back (except for you Mike and BJ . . . I don't even want to know what Mike is thinking, and I already know what BJ is thinking). Just cut through all the bullshit and come out with it already people.
7/04/2006
Thoughts Fermented By Boredom
After a day spent doing absolutely nothing for once, I sit here at my computer, chatting with an old friend from high school who I haven't had a conversation with in years and random thoughts have been bubbling up through my boredom. . . mayhaps it is the small amount of Canadian Whisky (that is one of the few things I will commend Canadians on - they make some decent booze) I have imbibed, but many of these thoughts are completely unconnected. To tell the truth, they are as unconnected as the bubbles I compared them to above.
-Pop-
Coincidences happen all the time. Tonight I started talking to a friend from college and she started asking about a friend I hadn't even thought of in months. Turns out one of her best friends goes to college with him and when he learned where she went he remembered that I was there. Through her I got his AIM name (funnily enough it turned out to be the same as his old Yahoo name that I used to chat with him on years ago). After starting up a conversation with him, I realized how nostalgic I get every once and a while for the simpler times of high school. No need to worry about when your various classes are . . . they are scheduled out for you in one long block every day. No need to worry about changes in schedules or whether or not a professor will cancel class on a given day or take attendence on that one day you skip . . . because they are always there and they always take attendence. Boy were those days were easier.
-Pop-
Recently I have become more aware of how my parents are having to change their perceptions of me. My dad was talking to my godfather on the phone the other night about his eldest daughter who recently graduated high school. My dad started talking about how "she can't be that old already" and "did she really already graduate?" and was about to continue on until he glanced over at me (probably because I was laughing at him). When he glanced over I just raised my wine glass (I was having a nice glass of Merlot with dinner) and smiled.
Sometimes my parents still see me as nothing more than the little boy I used to be, but then something jars their memory and they realize that I am an adult. It is refreshing to know that some part of them will always remember me as the little kid even if I can't remain as such.
-Pop-
I heard a song on the radio last night that I fell in love with. It is called "When Did You Fall" by Chris Rice. It is a really great song, with a catchy tune and some touching lyrics.
(Before anyone asks, no nothing prompted the posting of that song other than the fact that I heard it.)
-Slide-
What is it about love songs that can cause such reactions in humans? I know that I for one feel calmer and more relaxed after a nice love song or two. In fact, I try to listen to a couple such songs each night before going to sleep to relax me. I know a guy who has one of the meanest reputations I can think of, but he absolutely melts when he hears certain love songs. Love songs can pluck at heartstrings in almost anyone. I have yet to meet a person who doesn't have a soft spot for at least one love song for one reason or another.
-Pop-
Lalala . . . Purple Monkey Dishwasher
-Pop-
I have been re-reading the Wheel of Time recently and I noticed a few things that I haven't noticed before.
1. Berelain is going to fall in love with "a man in white". My guess is Galad.
2. Min predicted Moiraine's return in Book 7 (right after Rand meets with the Sea Fold) even though nothing else hinted at it until Book 11.
3. Methinks Thom and Moiraine are going to hook up. Both of them had thoughts about the other at one point or another through the books that are extremely similar to the thoughts echoed through the other couples in the book (ie. Rand and Min, or Rand and Elayne, or Rand and Aviendha, etc.)
4. I am not sure Mat is going to lose an eye as some people think. I think he is going to hand half of the main continent to the Seachan in order to save the world.
5. Logaine has been getting a raw deal through the entire series, but I think he is going to pick up things where Rand drops them after the Last Battle.
6. This is connecting the above two points and adding more - After the last battle the "Known World" will be under the control of 5 rulers. Mat will control the Western areas with the Seanchan. Lan will control the "Borderlands". Elayne will control the midlands (Andor and Cairhien). The Aiel will either choose a new Car'a'carn or break back to their clans. And finally Logaine will control Tear, Illian, and possibly to some degreee Mayene.
So has George spoken, and so shall it come to pass.
-Pop-
Well, off to bed with me now. Happy Independence Day everyone.
-Pop-
Coincidences happen all the time. Tonight I started talking to a friend from college and she started asking about a friend I hadn't even thought of in months. Turns out one of her best friends goes to college with him and when he learned where she went he remembered that I was there. Through her I got his AIM name (funnily enough it turned out to be the same as his old Yahoo name that I used to chat with him on years ago). After starting up a conversation with him, I realized how nostalgic I get every once and a while for the simpler times of high school. No need to worry about when your various classes are . . . they are scheduled out for you in one long block every day. No need to worry about changes in schedules or whether or not a professor will cancel class on a given day or take attendence on that one day you skip . . . because they are always there and they always take attendence. Boy were those days were easier.
-Pop-
Recently I have become more aware of how my parents are having to change their perceptions of me. My dad was talking to my godfather on the phone the other night about his eldest daughter who recently graduated high school. My dad started talking about how "she can't be that old already" and "did she really already graduate?" and was about to continue on until he glanced over at me (probably because I was laughing at him). When he glanced over I just raised my wine glass (I was having a nice glass of Merlot with dinner) and smiled.
Sometimes my parents still see me as nothing more than the little boy I used to be, but then something jars their memory and they realize that I am an adult. It is refreshing to know that some part of them will always remember me as the little kid even if I can't remain as such.
-Pop-
I heard a song on the radio last night that I fell in love with. It is called "When Did You Fall" by Chris Rice. It is a really great song, with a catchy tune and some touching lyrics.
You’re all smiles and silly conversation
As if this sunny day came just for you
You twist your hair, you smile and you turn your eyes away
C’mon, tell me what’s right with you
Now it dawns on me probably everybody’s talkin’
And there’s something here I’m supposed to realize
‘Cause your secret’s out, and the universe laughs at it’s joke on me
I just caught it in your eyes, it’s a beautiful surprise
Chorus:
When did you fall in love with me?
Was it out of the blue
‘Cause I swear I never knew it
When did you let your heart run free?
Have you been waiting long?
When did you fall in love with me?
When did you fall in love?
Make your way over here, sit down by this fool, and let’s rewind
C’mon, let’s go back and replay all our scenes
You can point out the hints, the clues, the twists and the smiles this time
All the ones that slipped by me
I bet my face is red, and you can hear my heart poundin’
Well I guess it don’t matter now that I realize
‘Cause baby I missed it then, but I can surely see you now
Right there before my eyes
You’re my beautiful surprise
Chorus
Was it at the coffee shop
Or that morning at the bus stop
When you almost slipped, and I caught your hand
Or the time we built the snowman
The day at the beach, sandy and warm
Or the night with the scary thunderstorm
I never saw the signs
Now we’ve got to make up for lost time
And I can tell now by the way that you’re looking at me
I’d better finish this song so my lips will be free
Chorus x2
(Before anyone asks, no nothing prompted the posting of that song other than the fact that I heard it.)
-Slide-
What is it about love songs that can cause such reactions in humans? I know that I for one feel calmer and more relaxed after a nice love song or two. In fact, I try to listen to a couple such songs each night before going to sleep to relax me. I know a guy who has one of the meanest reputations I can think of, but he absolutely melts when he hears certain love songs. Love songs can pluck at heartstrings in almost anyone. I have yet to meet a person who doesn't have a soft spot for at least one love song for one reason or another.
-Pop-
Lalala . . . Purple Monkey Dishwasher
-Pop-
I have been re-reading the Wheel of Time recently and I noticed a few things that I haven't noticed before.
1. Berelain is going to fall in love with "a man in white". My guess is Galad.
2. Min predicted Moiraine's return in Book 7 (right after Rand meets with the Sea Fold) even though nothing else hinted at it until Book 11.
3. Methinks Thom and Moiraine are going to hook up. Both of them had thoughts about the other at one point or another through the books that are extremely similar to the thoughts echoed through the other couples in the book (ie. Rand and Min, or Rand and Elayne, or Rand and Aviendha, etc.)
4. I am not sure Mat is going to lose an eye as some people think. I think he is going to hand half of the main continent to the Seachan in order to save the world.
5. Logaine has been getting a raw deal through the entire series, but I think he is going to pick up things where Rand drops them after the Last Battle.
6. This is connecting the above two points and adding more - After the last battle the "Known World" will be under the control of 5 rulers. Mat will control the Western areas with the Seanchan. Lan will control the "Borderlands". Elayne will control the midlands (Andor and Cairhien). The Aiel will either choose a new Car'a'carn or break back to their clans. And finally Logaine will control Tear, Illian, and possibly to some degreee Mayene.
So has George spoken, and so shall it come to pass.
-Pop-
Well, off to bed with me now. Happy Independence Day everyone.
6/21/2006
I realized today how much time to think you can have when you are doing a mindless task like mowing a lawn or doing other yardwork. In the three hours I worked outside today I had a lot of time to think about things, and a quote popped into my head that I read a couple of weeks ago.
You see, over the past week I have had several chats with old friends from high school and I have had a very similar conversation with four different female friends. In our conversations, all four of them found some way to say that I was "great friend material, but none of them ever considered me as boyfriend material", "a big teddy bear", "the guy who they know they can always come to for help and advice", and "the kind of guy that women bring to clubs to act as a bodyguard to keep the creepy guys away" (or some similar comment to the same effect).
After all of these conversations, my mind took the three hours of yardwork to sort through how I got categorized as the "great friend, but not boyfriend" type. . . and I think I got it.
I am a weird guy, I am fully willing to admit that, but to counter that weirdness I have spent most of my life developing the nice guy image I have. I don't act the way other guys tend to around women, and I think that is my problem.
In my attempt to be a gentleman I have done the following:
I put myself out and give up chairs to women without any thought of gaining anything.
I take the bait whenever a female friend goes fishing for compliments.
I make no untoward comments unless I know all present females will not be offended.
I focus on a woman's face (that is right guys, women have faces) and not on other assets when talking to her.
When you add up all of these little things, and thousands of other tiny things I have trained myself to do over the years to make girls actually feel comfortable around me have backfired. They now feel too comfortable around me. No one feels that they have any reason to worry with me around, because they know I won't try anything.
Hell, I can wander the halls of the women's dorms and the only thing Security or the RAs will say to me is "Hey George".
At one point right after Christmas break, someone made a joke about me giving up my seat to a female because I wanted to get in her pants and she responded by saying, "George isn't the kind of guy who tries to get into girls' pants."
Telling these stories about myself sadly reminds me of a story my mom told me about one of her friends at college. This guy was so openly gay that he was allowed to sleep over in the girls' dorms because the RAs knew he wasn't doing anything with the girls. That sounds way to close to my stories for comfort.
I have made myself seem so nonthreatening and normal that I think I finally understand why kings used to trust eunuchs to guard their harems. If a guy shows absolutely no overt signs that he realizes when women are attractive, he is considered harmless. . . which brings me to the quote that I thought of earlier today -
That is right people, I am the saddest thing in this world. I am that man who is considered so harmless by women that I might as well be a eunuch. Hell, I might even get women to show more interest in me if I actually castrated myself. At least then I would have that whole "crazy guy who cut off his own balls" edge going for me.
Luckily for me, not everyone sees things in the exact same way, and one of these days I am going to find that woman who doesn't see me as a eunuch. . . hopefully.
You see, over the past week I have had several chats with old friends from high school and I have had a very similar conversation with four different female friends. In our conversations, all four of them found some way to say that I was "great friend material, but none of them ever considered me as boyfriend material", "a big teddy bear", "the guy who they know they can always come to for help and advice", and "the kind of guy that women bring to clubs to act as a bodyguard to keep the creepy guys away" (or some similar comment to the same effect).
After all of these conversations, my mind took the three hours of yardwork to sort through how I got categorized as the "great friend, but not boyfriend" type. . . and I think I got it.
I am a weird guy, I am fully willing to admit that, but to counter that weirdness I have spent most of my life developing the nice guy image I have. I don't act the way other guys tend to around women, and I think that is my problem.
In my attempt to be a gentleman I have done the following:
I put myself out and give up chairs to women without any thought of gaining anything.
I take the bait whenever a female friend goes fishing for compliments.
I make no untoward comments unless I know all present females will not be offended.
I focus on a woman's face (that is right guys, women have faces) and not on other assets when talking to her.
When you add up all of these little things, and thousands of other tiny things I have trained myself to do over the years to make girls actually feel comfortable around me have backfired. They now feel too comfortable around me. No one feels that they have any reason to worry with me around, because they know I won't try anything.
Hell, I can wander the halls of the women's dorms and the only thing Security or the RAs will say to me is "Hey George".
At one point right after Christmas break, someone made a joke about me giving up my seat to a female because I wanted to get in her pants and she responded by saying, "George isn't the kind of guy who tries to get into girls' pants."
Telling these stories about myself sadly reminds me of a story my mom told me about one of her friends at college. This guy was so openly gay that he was allowed to sleep over in the girls' dorms because the RAs knew he wasn't doing anything with the girls. That sounds way to close to my stories for comfort.
I have made myself seem so nonthreatening and normal that I think I finally understand why kings used to trust eunuchs to guard their harems. If a guy shows absolutely no overt signs that he realizes when women are attractive, he is considered harmless. . . which brings me to the quote that I thought of earlier today -
There's nothing worse than the girl who is considered charmless, except the man who is considered harmless.
That is right people, I am the saddest thing in this world. I am that man who is considered so harmless by women that I might as well be a eunuch. Hell, I might even get women to show more interest in me if I actually castrated myself. At least then I would have that whole "crazy guy who cut off his own balls" edge going for me.
Luckily for me, not everyone sees things in the exact same way, and one of these days I am going to find that woman who doesn't see me as a eunuch. . . hopefully.
6/18/2006
What is this feeling?
Loathing . . . unadulterated loathing . . .
I hate my coworkers . . . ok, so it isn't exactly hate. I can truly say that I only hate two people in this world (my adopted sisters . . . aka the queen bitches of hell). What I feel for the majority of my coworkers though, it has been coming close to hate lately. I can't even bring myself to have a conversation with most of them the past week or so. They are literally the most immature people I have ever met.
Picture the horniest thirteen year old boy you have ever met, then make him 20 or 22 but keep the hormones raging and the stupid peurile jokes. That might come close to being the three guys I work with who are around my age. I went to school with these guys, and they haven't changed a bit since then. Every single night is nothing but an endless line of "George check out that chick", "Did you see the rack on her?", and "Holy Hell! I want to be outside right now instead of working" comments. I mean sure, there are quite a few attractive women who come out to watch movies at the drive-in, but I don't need to hear comments about each one of them or get a play-by-play of what is going on in the pants of my coworkers when they see these women.
I have tried ignoring the comments. I have tried going along with them and making the stupid jokes and remarks. Hell, I have even tried telling them to their faces that they are acting like thirteen year olds who are just noticing that women have boobs, but nothing works. They keep doing it, and sadly those comments are just the tip of the iceberg.
On weekends, there are two young girls who work out at the drive-in with us. I say young girls because one is 16 and the other just turned 17. One of the guys' favorite pasttimes is making jokes about the two girls being jailbait . . . oh and did I mention that one of the guys was recently dating the older of the girls. I mean for pity's sake, there are a few things that you don't joke around about, and in my book, sex with underage girls is one of those things. When you add in that the girls really like to flirt with all of the younger workers you just have a recipe for trouble.
So I spend most of my time talking with either my boss (and father of two of the other workers out there), or some of the older women who work out there. It is sad when you find that you have more in common with people twice your age than with people within a five year span of you.
It is now just a counting game for me. I am already counting down the days until I head back to campus. I miss being able to have a conversation, whether serious or not, without having to resort to "Damn she is hot" or a fart joke to connect with the person. I miss sitting down to have a bite to eat with someone and ending up spending an extra half hour at the table because we are just chatting. I miss going for a walk and ending up running into half a dozen people I can just hang out with for a while to keep my mind off things. I go for a walk here at home and end up doing nothing but wandering around and singing to myself.
At some points I have just gotten so bored and/or lonely that I will just pull my phone out and call the first person that comes to mind. I have spent more time on my cell phone in the past week than in the two months before that.
And as I finish this, my MP3 player decides to chime in with "Home" by Michael Bublé.
I'm right there with you bud.
I hate my coworkers . . . ok, so it isn't exactly hate. I can truly say that I only hate two people in this world (my adopted sisters . . . aka the queen bitches of hell). What I feel for the majority of my coworkers though, it has been coming close to hate lately. I can't even bring myself to have a conversation with most of them the past week or so. They are literally the most immature people I have ever met.
Picture the horniest thirteen year old boy you have ever met, then make him 20 or 22 but keep the hormones raging and the stupid peurile jokes. That might come close to being the three guys I work with who are around my age. I went to school with these guys, and they haven't changed a bit since then. Every single night is nothing but an endless line of "George check out that chick", "Did you see the rack on her?", and "Holy Hell! I want to be outside right now instead of working" comments. I mean sure, there are quite a few attractive women who come out to watch movies at the drive-in, but I don't need to hear comments about each one of them or get a play-by-play of what is going on in the pants of my coworkers when they see these women.
I have tried ignoring the comments. I have tried going along with them and making the stupid jokes and remarks. Hell, I have even tried telling them to their faces that they are acting like thirteen year olds who are just noticing that women have boobs, but nothing works. They keep doing it, and sadly those comments are just the tip of the iceberg.
On weekends, there are two young girls who work out at the drive-in with us. I say young girls because one is 16 and the other just turned 17. One of the guys' favorite pasttimes is making jokes about the two girls being jailbait . . . oh and did I mention that one of the guys was recently dating the older of the girls. I mean for pity's sake, there are a few things that you don't joke around about, and in my book, sex with underage girls is one of those things. When you add in that the girls really like to flirt with all of the younger workers you just have a recipe for trouble.
So I spend most of my time talking with either my boss (and father of two of the other workers out there), or some of the older women who work out there. It is sad when you find that you have more in common with people twice your age than with people within a five year span of you.
It is now just a counting game for me. I am already counting down the days until I head back to campus. I miss being able to have a conversation, whether serious or not, without having to resort to "Damn she is hot" or a fart joke to connect with the person. I miss sitting down to have a bite to eat with someone and ending up spending an extra half hour at the table because we are just chatting. I miss going for a walk and ending up running into half a dozen people I can just hang out with for a while to keep my mind off things. I go for a walk here at home and end up doing nothing but wandering around and singing to myself.
At some points I have just gotten so bored and/or lonely that I will just pull my phone out and call the first person that comes to mind. I have spent more time on my cell phone in the past week than in the two months before that.
And as I finish this, my MP3 player decides to chime in with "Home" by Michael Bublé.
And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel alone
Oh, let go home
Oh, I miss you, you know
Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
I'm right there with you bud.
6/02/2006
What's in a dream?
Ah dreams. Most people dream every night and at least vaguely remember most of their dreams. I, on the other hand, rarely remember my dreams. In fact, I have had a total of two dreams in the past year that I have remembered (and both of those were in the past two months). In the past when I had dreams that I remembered, they tended to be prophetic.
Shortly after I turned 3 I woke up crying and ran to tell my parents that I had just had a dream that my grandfather died. The next morning we got a call that my grandfather had a heart attack and was in the hospital. He died two days later. Dreams - 1. George's sanity - 0.
When I was a little kid, I had a dream about my cousin being sick, walked into my parents' bedroom at 3am and told them to call my aunt and find out what was wrong. Of course, thinking that I had just had a strange nightmare, they shuffled me off to bed with promises that we would call "in the morning". So I got up at 7am and made them call. Sure enough, my cousin was admitted to the hospital at 2:45am. Dreams - 2. George's sanity - -1.
Over the years I had several more similar experiences. My dad had a health problem when I was out of town with a friend and I knew about it from a dream befure my mother called me to tell me. During my freshman year of college my little brother had health problems and I knew about them as soon as he got admitted to the hospital.
Health problems haven't been the only times I have had this kind of dream. Often times I will remember a seemingly random dream, only to have it come to pass years later. Once, I had a dream that I was at a movie with a female friend of mine and her family, and her little brother asked an embarassing question about the film. Two years later I was working at a theater when "Me, Myself, and Irene" was on and I sat next to this girl, her mother, grandmother, and little brother while it was on. Sure enough, when Jim Carey started playing with the dildo, the brother leaned over and went "Mom, what is that?"
Later that year I had a dream about helping a friend move from one house to another. Three months later this friend's family was forced to sell their house and move.
--------------
Now, the reason I talked about these past dreams is because these two most recent dreams pertain to events years in the future. The first one approximately 25 years in the future, and the second around 5 years from now.
The first dream I had about a month before the end of school. I have already told several people about it, but I will go ahead and retell it. The dream begins with me pulling my car onto the Saint Joseph's College campus to visit my daughter. She meets me outside of the dorm and we head to the Halleck center to eat lunch together in the cafe (the food was much better then than it is now). While we are sitting together eating, four young men walk up and join us. She introduces them, but as she does so I immediately recognize them. I cannot for the life of me remember their names, but I know they were the sons of Jelly, BJ, Sam (and Jen), and Mothball (and Babe). Note that there are no names beside Jelly or BJ to denote a wife. I don't know who either of them were married to, nor do I have any clue who I was married to. I don't even know what my daughter's face looked like or voice sounded like. It was the oddest feeling ever.
The second dream also pertains with my future wife. The first thing I remember about the dream is running down the hall of a hospital thinking that I shouldn't have gone to work that day. As I reach the room I am looking for, the thought that I am going to be a father flashed through my head. I remember rushing to my wife's side, but I don't remember any of the actual labor process from the dream. The next thing I remember is the nurse handing my daughter (note that it is a daughter again and not a son) to my wife. Looking down at my wife with my daughter in her arms is the first time I remember seeing my wife's face in this dream. Then the weird part of the dream started.
As I looked at my wife's face and recognition dawned upon me (apparantly my subconscious is complex enough to age people in my dreams), I realized who it was and she looked absolutely radiant holding the baby in her arms. Then, before my eyes, she changed into someone else who looked content and tired holding the baby in her arms. The face then changed to someone else and she had a smile on her face that was warm enough to melt a glacier. My wife then changed to someone else, whose look told me that she was never going to go through that experience again and if I wanted more kids we would have to adopt. Once more the face changed to another person I know who looked extremely pleased with herself. One final time my wife's face changed . . .
And this time it was into a woman I have never seen before in my life. All five other incarnations had been people I knew either from college or high school. Two of these girls I had never held any romantic feelings towards that I knew of. This woman however, I have never seen, although I wish I had. She was . . . in a word, perfect. She wasn't the most physically attractive woman I have ever seen, but she was beautiful, and there was something about her and the way she made me feel in the dream that told me that she was perfect in every way that mattered. Then in my dream she looked at me with those emerald eyes, smiled at me (the most beautiful smile I can ever remember seeing, in reality or a dream), and held my daughter out to me. I leaned down and took my daughter in my arms as my wife gave me a kiss on the cheek . . . . and then I woke up.
It has been about a week since I had this dream, and I can't get this face out of my head. At first I thought that perhaps this face was just an amalgamation of the other five faces in my dream, but there are too many features that this woman had that look nothing like the features of the others. Even soaked in sweat and obviously drained of energy after labor in the dream, there was just something about her that made my heart soar. I don't know if I will ever see her. Maybe this is just my subconscious letting me know what I think the perfect woman looks like, but maybe, just maybe, it is another prophetic dream.
I hope so, I really do. And I hope that if it is, I meet her soon. I don't really care if the first dream is prophetic (it would be interesting if it was, but it really isn't all that important), but that second one . . . .
Shortly after I turned 3 I woke up crying and ran to tell my parents that I had just had a dream that my grandfather died. The next morning we got a call that my grandfather had a heart attack and was in the hospital. He died two days later. Dreams - 1. George's sanity - 0.
When I was a little kid, I had a dream about my cousin being sick, walked into my parents' bedroom at 3am and told them to call my aunt and find out what was wrong. Of course, thinking that I had just had a strange nightmare, they shuffled me off to bed with promises that we would call "in the morning". So I got up at 7am and made them call. Sure enough, my cousin was admitted to the hospital at 2:45am. Dreams - 2. George's sanity - -1.
Over the years I had several more similar experiences. My dad had a health problem when I was out of town with a friend and I knew about it from a dream befure my mother called me to tell me. During my freshman year of college my little brother had health problems and I knew about them as soon as he got admitted to the hospital.
Health problems haven't been the only times I have had this kind of dream. Often times I will remember a seemingly random dream, only to have it come to pass years later. Once, I had a dream that I was at a movie with a female friend of mine and her family, and her little brother asked an embarassing question about the film. Two years later I was working at a theater when "Me, Myself, and Irene" was on and I sat next to this girl, her mother, grandmother, and little brother while it was on. Sure enough, when Jim Carey started playing with the dildo, the brother leaned over and went "Mom, what is that?"
Later that year I had a dream about helping a friend move from one house to another. Three months later this friend's family was forced to sell their house and move.
--------------
Now, the reason I talked about these past dreams is because these two most recent dreams pertain to events years in the future. The first one approximately 25 years in the future, and the second around 5 years from now.
The first dream I had about a month before the end of school. I have already told several people about it, but I will go ahead and retell it. The dream begins with me pulling my car onto the Saint Joseph's College campus to visit my daughter. She meets me outside of the dorm and we head to the Halleck center to eat lunch together in the cafe (the food was much better then than it is now). While we are sitting together eating, four young men walk up and join us. She introduces them, but as she does so I immediately recognize them. I cannot for the life of me remember their names, but I know they were the sons of Jelly, BJ, Sam (and Jen), and Mothball (and Babe). Note that there are no names beside Jelly or BJ to denote a wife. I don't know who either of them were married to, nor do I have any clue who I was married to. I don't even know what my daughter's face looked like or voice sounded like. It was the oddest feeling ever.
The second dream also pertains with my future wife. The first thing I remember about the dream is running down the hall of a hospital thinking that I shouldn't have gone to work that day. As I reach the room I am looking for, the thought that I am going to be a father flashed through my head. I remember rushing to my wife's side, but I don't remember any of the actual labor process from the dream. The next thing I remember is the nurse handing my daughter (note that it is a daughter again and not a son) to my wife. Looking down at my wife with my daughter in her arms is the first time I remember seeing my wife's face in this dream. Then the weird part of the dream started.
As I looked at my wife's face and recognition dawned upon me (apparantly my subconscious is complex enough to age people in my dreams), I realized who it was and she looked absolutely radiant holding the baby in her arms. Then, before my eyes, she changed into someone else who looked content and tired holding the baby in her arms. The face then changed to someone else and she had a smile on her face that was warm enough to melt a glacier. My wife then changed to someone else, whose look told me that she was never going to go through that experience again and if I wanted more kids we would have to adopt. Once more the face changed to another person I know who looked extremely pleased with herself. One final time my wife's face changed . . .
And this time it was into a woman I have never seen before in my life. All five other incarnations had been people I knew either from college or high school. Two of these girls I had never held any romantic feelings towards that I knew of. This woman however, I have never seen, although I wish I had. She was . . . in a word, perfect. She wasn't the most physically attractive woman I have ever seen, but she was beautiful, and there was something about her and the way she made me feel in the dream that told me that she was perfect in every way that mattered. Then in my dream she looked at me with those emerald eyes, smiled at me (the most beautiful smile I can ever remember seeing, in reality or a dream), and held my daughter out to me. I leaned down and took my daughter in my arms as my wife gave me a kiss on the cheek . . . . and then I woke up.
It has been about a week since I had this dream, and I can't get this face out of my head. At first I thought that perhaps this face was just an amalgamation of the other five faces in my dream, but there are too many features that this woman had that look nothing like the features of the others. Even soaked in sweat and obviously drained of energy after labor in the dream, there was just something about her that made my heart soar. I don't know if I will ever see her. Maybe this is just my subconscious letting me know what I think the perfect woman looks like, but maybe, just maybe, it is another prophetic dream.
I hope so, I really do. And I hope that if it is, I meet her soon. I don't really care if the first dream is prophetic (it would be interesting if it was, but it really isn't all that important), but that second one . . . .
6/01/2006
Sometimes, when life keeps throwing lemons at me, I wonder "why me?" . . . and then I realize that while life is throwing lemons at me, it is throwing rocks at other people.
Sure, I have a crappy job, and I would rather strangle some of my coworkers than have a conversation with them. The thing is . . . I have a job. I have a source of income, and my parents are still helping with a large portion of my bills.
Sure, I pulled a muscle in my diaphragm earlier this week, but I pulled it moving air conditioners into my house. There are plenty of people who don't have air conditioning, and I pity them this summer.
Sure, most of my friends from high school are either always working, out of state, or otherwise unavailable to hang out with, but I have access to plenty of people over internet communications and I have my family here at home to keep me company.
To keep myself from stating dozens of other such things, I will boil the entire idea down. I am one lucky bastard, yet I have seen fit over the past year or so to complain about things. I have little or no right to complain about anything, but I still did it. I came to this conclusion after seeing some of the people who come out to the drivein as their big family outing of the month and then have to share a medium popcorn with the whole family because they can't afford any more (admission to the drivein is only $5 a person, and a medium popcorn is $3).
--------
So, all that in mind, things are going pretty well for me. I am finally catching up on some reading I have been meaning to do (17 books down 22 to go). My little brother's legs are getting stronger and he is now able to make it up to his room at night, so he doesn't have to sleep downstairs in the den. Also, I only have a little over 2 months until I get back to SJC. I also got myself a nice little MP3 player the other day. 4gigs for $79.99.
So, all in all, things are good and I am a happy guy.
Sure, I have a crappy job, and I would rather strangle some of my coworkers than have a conversation with them. The thing is . . . I have a job. I have a source of income, and my parents are still helping with a large portion of my bills.
Sure, I pulled a muscle in my diaphragm earlier this week, but I pulled it moving air conditioners into my house. There are plenty of people who don't have air conditioning, and I pity them this summer.
Sure, most of my friends from high school are either always working, out of state, or otherwise unavailable to hang out with, but I have access to plenty of people over internet communications and I have my family here at home to keep me company.
To keep myself from stating dozens of other such things, I will boil the entire idea down. I am one lucky bastard, yet I have seen fit over the past year or so to complain about things. I have little or no right to complain about anything, but I still did it. I came to this conclusion after seeing some of the people who come out to the drivein as their big family outing of the month and then have to share a medium popcorn with the whole family because they can't afford any more (admission to the drivein is only $5 a person, and a medium popcorn is $3).
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So, all that in mind, things are going pretty well for me. I am finally catching up on some reading I have been meaning to do (17 books down 22 to go). My little brother's legs are getting stronger and he is now able to make it up to his room at night, so he doesn't have to sleep downstairs in the den. Also, I only have a little over 2 months until I get back to SJC. I also got myself a nice little MP3 player the other day. 4gigs for $79.99.
So, all in all, things are good and I am a happy guy.
5/21/2006
Hindsight . . . you are such a bitch sometimes
This past week I have had several flashes of hindsight . . . and they are really starting to piss me off. Why can't my foresight be good enough to catch these things before they become past events and possibilities that piss me off? I was going to write about these various flashes of hindsight, but most of them are either personal in nature (too personal to reveal to just anyone who checks my AIM profile and blog) or concern individuals that I would rather confront in person about them (no, not you . . . or you . . . or you either damnit!)
So, having said that, things are pretty craptastic right now. I am back working at the drive-in again because the stupid companies I applied too are taking to long to respond and I need money now. My little brother is having complications from his leg surgery, and the doctors don't know what is wrong. My parents are wearing themselves out trying to take care of my little brother all the time and work. When you add all of that together, and then add flashes of hindsight (and confirmation of former flashes of insight in a couple cases) that make me want to slam my head into a wall and call myself an idiot (both for the hindsight and the slamming my head into the wall thing) . . . life is crap.
There are some good things that have happened recently though. I saw an old friend, and she and I had an hour long conversation catching up on old times . . . so that was fun. I had to run to campus on Friday to pick up my last Security paycheck, and that allowed me to see JP and Christine one last time before they both disappear. I found some old CD's that I burned from my old computer that had music I thought I lost on them.
Looking at those two lists, I realize that the good things are all paltry and minor when compared to the bad stuff.
Eh, life's rough, so I better get myself a damned helmet.
So, having said that, things are pretty craptastic right now. I am back working at the drive-in again because the stupid companies I applied too are taking to long to respond and I need money now. My little brother is having complications from his leg surgery, and the doctors don't know what is wrong. My parents are wearing themselves out trying to take care of my little brother all the time and work. When you add all of that together, and then add flashes of hindsight (and confirmation of former flashes of insight in a couple cases) that make me want to slam my head into a wall and call myself an idiot (both for the hindsight and the slamming my head into the wall thing) . . . life is crap.
There are some good things that have happened recently though. I saw an old friend, and she and I had an hour long conversation catching up on old times . . . so that was fun. I had to run to campus on Friday to pick up my last Security paycheck, and that allowed me to see JP and Christine one last time before they both disappear. I found some old CD's that I burned from my old computer that had music I thought I lost on them.
Looking at those two lists, I realize that the good things are all paltry and minor when compared to the bad stuff.
Eh, life's rough, so I better get myself a damned helmet.
“Courage and cheerfulness will not only carry you over the rough places in life, but will enable you to bring comfort and help to the weak-hearted and will console you in the sad hours” - William Osler
I often wonder: suppose we could begin life over again, knowing what we were doing? Suppose we could use one life, already ended, as a sort of rough draft for another? I think that every one of us would try, more than anything else, not to repeat himself.
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