So I finally moved into my new apartment yesterday, at long last, and after many great trials. And you know what? It's fucking spectacular. It wound up being "utilities included", which I did NOT expect, so that was most excellent.
Of course, now I have to purchase... EVERYTHING. Dishes, cutlery, shower curtain, bathmat, shelves (9 boxes of books, DVDs, and various other things and NO SHELVES), curtain and curtain rod to cover the 6-7 foot window, hangers, pots and pans, towels, lamps, pillows, pillowcases, more blankets, vacuum, broom, etc etc etc. I got rid of EVERYTHING when I moved into my ex's place. Currently sleeping on a queen-sized foam mat folded in half with a sheet wrapped around it. I'm actually debating just beefing up the foam and continuing to do that, seeing as how it's so light and mobile and takes up no space whatsoever. I might wind up getting an air mattress, but I'm kind of iffy about it for several reasons. One I didn't think of, but one of my coworkers did) is that sex destroys an air mattress, and the whole affair is just kind of /meh in general. Not that I'M getting any, nor am I likely to be for quite some time.
The only significant downfall in this whole thing is that I no longer have internet access. I'm actually considering PAYING for wifi for the first time ever, especially since I'm not paying utilities. I could always just have a friend come down and hack a signal's security for me, but I only pick up one anyway. Might have to go legal on this one.
So, anyway, no internet. Currently writing from work (lunch break, thank you very much). Hopefully I'll get this internet situation resolved quickly, at which time I'm considering having regular posts (MWF or some such thing). If I do go with that, those won't be the ONLY posts necessarily, they'll just be guaranteed.
In other news, my advertising budget ran out, because I make $9/hr. Help support S.A.P.S. (Funny, right? Saps? I kill myself sometimes) by visiting our sponsored links. I can't eat tuna and ramen forever.
One more thing before I go. Today I rang a woman up, and we were talking about life and the state of things. She said something about still standing, then paused, and said "Well I suppose it's more like leaning right now. Definitely leaning." I immediately thought "blog". A perfect statement to define the state of things, hmm?
4.04.2009
3.31.2009
3.29.2009
3.27.2009
We All Have Our Little Problems
double entendre FTW
______________________
We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk it the tables being turned
We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always come with getting burned
But you got to be tough when consumed by desire
'Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire
We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall
We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all
They're so hell bent on giving, walking a wire
Convinced it's not living if you stand outside the fire
Chorus:
Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire
There's this love that is burning
Deep in my soul
Constantly yearning to get out of control
Wanting to fly hiher and higher
I can't abide standing outside the fire
______________________
We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk it the tables being turned
We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always come with getting burned
But you got to be tough when consumed by desire
'Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire
We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall
We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all
They're so hell bent on giving, walking a wire
Convinced it's not living if you stand outside the fire
Chorus:
Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire
There's this love that is burning
Deep in my soul
Constantly yearning to get out of control
Wanting to fly hiher and higher
I can't abide standing outside the fire
3.22.2009
I Sincerely Hope
That no one EVER lets me eat a burger (or anything else that size) at two in the morning ever again. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate this (beauty/beast) of a burger just as much as the next guy. Just... not at two in the morning.
I feel like CRAP right now.
I feel like CRAP right now.
3.21.2009
Sobriety is Overrated
Today was the first day of what was supposed to be 7 days of absolute sobriety for me. Understand, I did not choose do this out of concern for my current habits; I just do this every couple of months to... recharge, I suppose. Few things in life are more disappointing than burning yourself out on something you enjoy. Going a week or two or a month or whatever absolutely straight teaches you to better appreciate the fact that you have the freedom to get fucked up, should you so choose. One should never allow oneself to get to the point where one takes for granted one's freedoms.
So today was day 1. I had a glass of scotch before bed last night, then woke up this comfortable with the idea of 7 days of sobriety.
Then I went to work, and hosted our midnight release party for Twilight.
I absolutely loved the Twilight series. I started the first book with full confidence that I would hate it, but after the first few chapters... I was hooked. I read the first book in one night, read New Moon the next, then Eclipse the next after that, then waited for months in agonizing pain for Breaking Dawn to come out. I actually hosted our midnight release party for that as well, and had a total blast. I was less enthused for tonight's event, however; I still have not seen the film, and had next to no prep or planning time. We also had twice as many attendees as I had originally anticipated. But it went great, I had a good time, and there were no issues to speak of the whole night. Even still, halfway through this whole thing I could not help but think "Good God I cannot wait to go home and crack open that bottle of Macallan." And I realized that really, at this point in time, I have NO desire to go a week sober. I want to get home from work and drink some scotch. Maybe after I move into my new apartment and get all of my shit together, I will be in a better state of mind to go on a sobriety streak. But not right now.
Give thanks, ladies and gentlemen, for your ability to get wasted. There exist a great many substances on this planet that can make you unnaturally happy and help you forget, at least temporarily, the things that make you want to go play on the highway. Granted, there is a flipside to this; overdoing it with these very same substances that bring you such happiness can ultimately bring you far greater misery if you overdo them. But if one possesses both the willpower and, more importantly, the desire, to utilize these grand alchemical opportunities responsibly, one gains access to otherwise unattainable states of mind, as well as states of total release.
Or, more simply stated: Keep your shit together, and you can have a damn fine time.
Sobriety is overrated. Enjoy your poison responsibly. Let it take you somewhere new (or someplace comfortably familiar), but don't let it overtake you.
Here's to you.
So today was day 1. I had a glass of scotch before bed last night, then woke up this comfortable with the idea of 7 days of sobriety.
Then I went to work, and hosted our midnight release party for Twilight.
I absolutely loved the Twilight series. I started the first book with full confidence that I would hate it, but after the first few chapters... I was hooked. I read the first book in one night, read New Moon the next, then Eclipse the next after that, then waited for months in agonizing pain for Breaking Dawn to come out. I actually hosted our midnight release party for that as well, and had a total blast. I was less enthused for tonight's event, however; I still have not seen the film, and had next to no prep or planning time. We also had twice as many attendees as I had originally anticipated. But it went great, I had a good time, and there were no issues to speak of the whole night. Even still, halfway through this whole thing I could not help but think "Good God I cannot wait to go home and crack open that bottle of Macallan." And I realized that really, at this point in time, I have NO desire to go a week sober. I want to get home from work and drink some scotch. Maybe after I move into my new apartment and get all of my shit together, I will be in a better state of mind to go on a sobriety streak. But not right now.
Give thanks, ladies and gentlemen, for your ability to get wasted. There exist a great many substances on this planet that can make you unnaturally happy and help you forget, at least temporarily, the things that make you want to go play on the highway. Granted, there is a flipside to this; overdoing it with these very same substances that bring you such happiness can ultimately bring you far greater misery if you overdo them. But if one possesses both the willpower and, more importantly, the desire, to utilize these grand alchemical opportunities responsibly, one gains access to otherwise unattainable states of mind, as well as states of total release.
Or, more simply stated: Keep your shit together, and you can have a damn fine time.
Sobriety is overrated. Enjoy your poison responsibly. Let it take you somewhere new (or someplace comfortably familiar), but don't let it overtake you.
Here's to you.
3.19.2009
Allow Me to Explain to You How This Works
Whenever anything of any consequence is happening in my life, Murphy's Law shall surely prove true yet again. I'll lay out the most recent example:
Last week I applied for a new apartment. Several days later the management company (hereafter referred to as "apt people") informs me that they cannot process my application, due to my ID being expired. I had hoped they might overlook this fact, as has happened numerous times before, but no such luck. However, they said that if I was to bring in a receipt from the DMV for an ID application, that would suffice.
So the following morning I wake up at 7AM to spend half an hour on the bus to get to this terrible place when it opens, to ensure a minimal wait time. The plan was DMV, apt people, then work. HOWEVER, after spending half an hour in line, I am informed by one of the most condescending human beings I have ever encountered that they will not accept my expired military ID as proof of legal presence, despite my also having on my person my Social Security Card, as well as a credit card bill with my current address.
Obviously, this pissed me off.
I would have to bring in either my birth certificate or a passport. I have never had a passport, never had a driver's license or state ID, or any other form of identification other than my military ID. The reason I'd not gotten a new ID prior to this is that I RARELY had the $24 required to apply for an ID over the last... long time, and my mother lost my birth certificate. Over the last several months in particular she has alternately found and lost my birth certificate several times.
Once the blinding rage subsided, I hatched my plan. I called out of work for the night, then called my mother to inform her that I was getting on a train to go tear her house apart and find the damn thing myself.
It takes an hour to take the Blue Line from downtown Long Beach to the 7th Street/Metro Center, then about 5 minutes on the Red Line from 7th to Union Station, then two hours on the Antelope Valley Line from LA Union to Lancaster.
I was exceptionally relieved when I found my birth certificate with a minimum of effort. Successful in the first leg of my mission, I got up at four this morning to get back on the train at six heading down to Long Beach. Got back into Long Beach at around 9, got to the DMV around ten, out by ten fifty, then went to the apt people to take care of that whole deal.
Thankfully, several hours later I found out that my application was approved. I immediately went to the bank, then the management office to put down the deposit. HOWEVER, for me to sign the lease, they have to have a photocopy of a valid photo ID for "security purposes." Obviously, I don't have that. So we set the appointment for the 3rd of April to allow time for the DMV to mail me my card.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is how my life goes.
Last week I applied for a new apartment. Several days later the management company (hereafter referred to as "apt people") informs me that they cannot process my application, due to my ID being expired. I had hoped they might overlook this fact, as has happened numerous times before, but no such luck. However, they said that if I was to bring in a receipt from the DMV for an ID application, that would suffice.
So the following morning I wake up at 7AM to spend half an hour on the bus to get to this terrible place when it opens, to ensure a minimal wait time. The plan was DMV, apt people, then work. HOWEVER, after spending half an hour in line, I am informed by one of the most condescending human beings I have ever encountered that they will not accept my expired military ID as proof of legal presence, despite my also having on my person my Social Security Card, as well as a credit card bill with my current address.
Obviously, this pissed me off.
I would have to bring in either my birth certificate or a passport. I have never had a passport, never had a driver's license or state ID, or any other form of identification other than my military ID. The reason I'd not gotten a new ID prior to this is that I RARELY had the $24 required to apply for an ID over the last... long time, and my mother lost my birth certificate. Over the last several months in particular she has alternately found and lost my birth certificate several times.
Once the blinding rage subsided, I hatched my plan. I called out of work for the night, then called my mother to inform her that I was getting on a train to go tear her house apart and find the damn thing myself.
It takes an hour to take the Blue Line from downtown Long Beach to the 7th Street/Metro Center, then about 5 minutes on the Red Line from 7th to Union Station, then two hours on the Antelope Valley Line from LA Union to Lancaster.
I was exceptionally relieved when I found my birth certificate with a minimum of effort. Successful in the first leg of my mission, I got up at four this morning to get back on the train at six heading down to Long Beach. Got back into Long Beach at around 9, got to the DMV around ten, out by ten fifty, then went to the apt people to take care of that whole deal.
Thankfully, several hours later I found out that my application was approved. I immediately went to the bank, then the management office to put down the deposit. HOWEVER, for me to sign the lease, they have to have a photocopy of a valid photo ID for "security purposes." Obviously, I don't have that. So we set the appointment for the 3rd of April to allow time for the DMV to mail me my card.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is how my life goes.
3.16.2009
Douchebaggery
I conceived this entry at about 4AM this morning, right after I went to bed, but was too cozy and inebriated to drag my ass out from under the covers and write it. What this means is that this entry will be significantly crappier than it might have been otherwise.
Very recently, I pissed off a very close friend of mine, who is currently not speaking to me as a result. He and I had been planning on getting an apartment together, because he wanted to move out of his dad's house and I'm still staying with friends post-breakup. Originally, we'd picked a date that we'd like to at least have an IDEA of where to live by, if not actually moving by that date. He had wanted to do it a tad earlier, but there was no way I was going to be able to swing it.
What wound up happening is that I unexpectedly came into a significant amount of money (by my standards, at least), and was therefore rendered able to move right then and there. I was stoked! I knew my friend already had the money, so I assumed that we'd jump right on this thing and get it done ASAP. This was not to be. I found a couple of places on Craigslist, then he came over so we could talk and look at some of them. Turns out he now wanted to push back our approximate moving date. Although he definitely had the money to make the move happen, he was unsure about some possible near-future expenses.
This set off some alarm bells for me. I mean, I'm not ACTUALLY living where I'm staying. I'm here by the grace of some exceptionally generous friends, and I'd told them when I moved in that I'd be out by the beginning of April. I NEED to move, and I need to move quick. My friend, on the other hand, lives with his father, and has no such deadline. He has a home, I do not.
After he left that night I jumped right back on Craigslist to look for studios/singles/something cheap I could handle myself. I found one that seemed absolutely perfect, and the next day went straight over to check it out. The following day, I turned in the application, and informed my friend, who was LIVID. Not a happy camper, by any means.
I can definitely understand his perspective. I bailed on him, with no warning. Kind of a dick move. But you know what it comes down to? He has a home, I do not.
Sometimes, you have to do things that are less than pleasant to achieve a desired and/or necessary end. You have to be ruthless. Cold. Unflinching. And it's hard. But that's life, kids. If you don't look out for your best interests, there's a definite possibility that no one else will. Then you're just... stuck. Fucked. Up shit creek, with only your hands for paddles.
Life comes at you with situations that demand an aggressive approach. And you might not be used to acting aggressively. But when these things happen, you've just gotta pull your balls out, lay them on the table, look life dead and the eye, and say "You see these? These are my balls. Get the fuck out of my way, before I bludgeon you to death with them." (For additional vulgar humor on the topic, see entry titled "Because Flaccid Confidence Just Doesn't Cut It," dated 3.12.09)
I'm sorry I was kind of a dick to my friend. Sometime's I'm a dick on accident, sometimes on purpose, but sometimes it's just because I HAVE to be.
We'll see how this goes.
Very recently, I pissed off a very close friend of mine, who is currently not speaking to me as a result. He and I had been planning on getting an apartment together, because he wanted to move out of his dad's house and I'm still staying with friends post-breakup. Originally, we'd picked a date that we'd like to at least have an IDEA of where to live by, if not actually moving by that date. He had wanted to do it a tad earlier, but there was no way I was going to be able to swing it.
What wound up happening is that I unexpectedly came into a significant amount of money (by my standards, at least), and was therefore rendered able to move right then and there. I was stoked! I knew my friend already had the money, so I assumed that we'd jump right on this thing and get it done ASAP. This was not to be. I found a couple of places on Craigslist, then he came over so we could talk and look at some of them. Turns out he now wanted to push back our approximate moving date. Although he definitely had the money to make the move happen, he was unsure about some possible near-future expenses.
This set off some alarm bells for me. I mean, I'm not ACTUALLY living where I'm staying. I'm here by the grace of some exceptionally generous friends, and I'd told them when I moved in that I'd be out by the beginning of April. I NEED to move, and I need to move quick. My friend, on the other hand, lives with his father, and has no such deadline. He has a home, I do not.
After he left that night I jumped right back on Craigslist to look for studios/singles/something cheap I could handle myself. I found one that seemed absolutely perfect, and the next day went straight over to check it out. The following day, I turned in the application, and informed my friend, who was LIVID. Not a happy camper, by any means.
I can definitely understand his perspective. I bailed on him, with no warning. Kind of a dick move. But you know what it comes down to? He has a home, I do not.
Sometimes, you have to do things that are less than pleasant to achieve a desired and/or necessary end. You have to be ruthless. Cold. Unflinching. And it's hard. But that's life, kids. If you don't look out for your best interests, there's a definite possibility that no one else will. Then you're just... stuck. Fucked. Up shit creek, with only your hands for paddles.
Life comes at you with situations that demand an aggressive approach. And you might not be used to acting aggressively. But when these things happen, you've just gotta pull your balls out, lay them on the table, look life dead and the eye, and say "You see these? These are my balls. Get the fuck out of my way, before I bludgeon you to death with them." (For additional vulgar humor on the topic, see entry titled "Because Flaccid Confidence Just Doesn't Cut It," dated 3.12.09)
I'm sorry I was kind of a dick to my friend. Sometime's I'm a dick on accident, sometimes on purpose, but sometimes it's just because I HAVE to be.
We'll see how this goes.
3.13.2009
I'm So Classy
Eden:
He's pretty much doing what you're trying to do (referring to Jonathan Coulton)
Eden:
You know?
Me:
essentially
Me:
except i have random dick humor in my blog
He's pretty much doing what you're trying to do (referring to Jonathan Coulton)
Eden:
You know?
Me:
essentially
Me:
except i have random dick humor in my blog
3.12.2009
Alternative Medicine Quick Tip #278*
Constipated? Try smoking a cigarette. Better yet, grab a book, an ashtray, and a fresh pack, and set up camp on the can. For quicker results, add a pot of coffee into the mix.
*brought to you by a conversation between myself and a roommate
*brought to you by a conversation between myself and a roommate
Conversations of Note
Eden:
have you read fuck my life today?
Me:
haha earlier yeah
Eden:
Today, my boss forgot her meeting with an official from the military base and called to ask me to handle it. The very cute Marine showed up that afternoon and we talked for an hour. After he left, I realized I had forgotten about the paper mustache I taped to my face for fun that morning. FML
Me:
hahaha yeah
who the fuck includes "paper mustache-just for fun" in their morning routine?
Eden:
someone who knows how to LIVE Cinnamon
someone who knows how to live.
Me:
HA!
indeed
Also, there was a conversation in which we discussed one of my usual phrases spreading to other people, and I said something like "I'm like that, in a non-herpetic kind of way." This was followed by a celebration of the birth of the word "herpetic".
have you read fuck my life today?
Me:
haha earlier yeah
Eden:
Today, my boss forgot her meeting with an official from the military base and called to ask me to handle it. The very cute Marine showed up that afternoon and we talked for an hour. After he left, I realized I had forgotten about the paper mustache I taped to my face for fun that morning. FML
Me:
hahaha yeah
who the fuck includes "paper mustache-just for fun" in their morning routine?
Eden:
someone who knows how to LIVE Cinnamon
someone who knows how to live.
Me:
HA!
indeed
Also, there was a conversation in which we discussed one of my usual phrases spreading to other people, and I said something like "I'm like that, in a non-herpetic kind of way." This was followed by a celebration of the birth of the word "herpetic".
CNN is a Veritable Cornucopia of Inspiration Today
This is a very sad story. This poor girl is all of 13 years old, whole life ahead of her, then some douchebag who should have been in prison anyway tries to rape her, prior to beating and stabbing her to death.
In the northwest corner of the article is the obligatory picture of the victim. Direct quote from the photo's caption:
"Alycia Nipp, 13, was a free spirit, her aunt says, and liked to collect neon drinking straws."
Reeeeeeeeeally? That's how we're immortalizing this young girl? Let it be known forever, throughout all the lands of the internet, that Alycia Nipp had a neon straw collection. She shall be remembered always as the girl who dug straws.
SURELY at some point in the interviews with her family members they mentioned at least a few other things that might be more significant, in terms of identity, that the distinguished member of the press could have used to honor the deceased instead. I mean, did her neon straw collection define her as a human being? Could one say that Alycia Nipp was DEFINED by her straw collection?
I certainly hope not. Sure, everybody loves quirky collections and odd personality traits, but this is an article on the home page of cnn.com about the brutal slaying of a young girl. Do you have any idea how many people are going to see this article?
Show some class, dude.
In the northwest corner of the article is the obligatory picture of the victim. Direct quote from the photo's caption:
"Alycia Nipp, 13, was a free spirit, her aunt says, and liked to collect neon drinking straws."
Reeeeeeeeeally? That's how we're immortalizing this young girl? Let it be known forever, throughout all the lands of the internet, that Alycia Nipp had a neon straw collection. She shall be remembered always as the girl who dug straws.
SURELY at some point in the interviews with her family members they mentioned at least a few other things that might be more significant, in terms of identity, that the distinguished member of the press could have used to honor the deceased instead. I mean, did her neon straw collection define her as a human being? Could one say that Alycia Nipp was DEFINED by her straw collection?
I certainly hope not. Sure, everybody loves quirky collections and odd personality traits, but this is an article on the home page of cnn.com about the brutal slaying of a young girl. Do you have any idea how many people are going to see this article?
Show some class, dude.
Love is a Many-Splendored Thing
Chris Brown and Rihanna "...completed a duet earlier this week." (CNN Article) Talk about a labor of love, hmm?
Hard to imagine recording some sweet little ditty about love and devotion alongside someone who did this to your face.
It must be true-you
Always hurt the one you love.
Oh shit, you're bleeding
Cory
Hard to imagine recording some sweet little ditty about love and devotion alongside someone who did this to your face.
It must be true-you
Always hurt the one you love.
Oh shit, you're bleeding
Cory
3.11.2009
3.10.2009
3.09.2009
"Oh, but I love that old school Mariah Carey sound."
I just said that. Seriously. And I meant it too.
WTF?
WTF?
3.04.2009
Exit Music
Wake... from your sleep
The drying of your tears
Today.. we escape
We escape.
Pack and get dressed
Before your father hears us
Before.. all hell.. breaks loose.
Breathe... keep breathing
Don't lose.. your nerve.
Breathe... keep breathing
I can't do this.. alone.
Sing us a song
A song to keep us warm
There's such a chill
Such a CHILL.
You can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope your rules and wisdom choke you
Now we are one
In everlasting peace
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
The drying of your tears
Today.. we escape
We escape.
Pack and get dressed
Before your father hears us
Before.. all hell.. breaks loose.
Breathe... keep breathing
Don't lose.. your nerve.
Breathe... keep breathing
I can't do this.. alone.
Sing us a song
A song to keep us warm
There's such a chill
Such a CHILL.
You can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope your rules and wisdom choke you
Now we are one
In everlasting peace
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
We hope that you choke.. that you choke
2.28.2009
It's funny how we say things we don't mean
...and get ourselves into situations in which only we wind up being uncomfortable. Now, you might think I'm talking about something that I did; oh no, friends, not this time. Nope nope nope. No sirree.
I don't think so, anyway.
...maybe?
meh.
I don't think so, anyway.
...maybe?
meh.
2.27.2009
Facebook is Weird
Like, really weird. Just take a step outside of yourself, and take a good long look at facebook, along with it's many features and applications.
You can send your mom a bitchslap (b!*$% slap).
There is a little cartoon with it.
Facebook has little cartoons you can bitchslap (b!*$% slap) your mom with.
That, kids, is weird.
-"Before you can b!*$% slap Maria, you need to follow the steps below to set up SuperPoke! Be sure to click the "Allow" button on the following page to give us permission to send your SuperPoke!"
Bitch slappin' has been taken to a level of far greater personal involvement than I am comfortable with. Used to be such a simple thing.
-"SuperPoke! lets you do stuff to the people you know. And you can do almost anything: try high-fiving, dropkicking, or throwing a sheep at your friends!!"
"Stuff" is pretty vague. It's a good thing they further limited the field to anything between high-fiving and throwing a sheep.
You can send your mom a bitchslap (b!*$% slap).
There is a little cartoon with it.
Facebook has little cartoons you can bitchslap (b!*$% slap) your mom with.
That, kids, is weird.
-"Before you can b!*$% slap Maria, you need to follow the steps below to set up SuperPoke! Be sure to click the "Allow" button on the following page to give us permission to send your SuperPoke!"
Bitch slappin' has been taken to a level of far greater personal involvement than I am comfortable with. Used to be such a simple thing.
-"SuperPoke! lets you do stuff to the people you know. And you can do almost anything: try high-fiving, dropkicking, or throwing a sheep at your friends!!"
"Stuff" is pretty vague. It's a good thing they further limited the field to anything between high-fiving and throwing a sheep.
2.21.2009
What the fuck, man.
I have the flu. What the fuck.
Work is the worst thing in the world, by the way. And I have to go there even though I'm sick. This morning I woke up at 6:30, got in the shower, got out of the shower, vomited, and went to work. And work was fucking nuts all day. I spent the whole goddamn time running back and forth batshit crazy trying to make the store function with too many customers and next to no employees. But I made it the whole goddamn day with vomiting again or passing out, which I wasn't so sure would happen. So gold star for me. I could only stay for three hours yesterday because I felt like I was dying. And you know what? I've got to go in again tomorrow morning, whether I'm still sick or not. Why? Because I'm goddamn reliable, that's why. And it pisses me off. I haven't called out once since I took this position last July. No matter what my condition is, no matter how much sleep I didn't get, or how much I drank the night before, or how sick I am (like, genuine sickness), I go in. And I hate it, dammit.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
Work is the worst thing in the world, by the way. And I have to go there even though I'm sick. This morning I woke up at 6:30, got in the shower, got out of the shower, vomited, and went to work. And work was fucking nuts all day. I spent the whole goddamn time running back and forth batshit crazy trying to make the store function with too many customers and next to no employees. But I made it the whole goddamn day with vomiting again or passing out, which I wasn't so sure would happen. So gold star for me. I could only stay for three hours yesterday because I felt like I was dying. And you know what? I've got to go in again tomorrow morning, whether I'm still sick or not. Why? Because I'm goddamn reliable, that's why. And it pisses me off. I haven't called out once since I took this position last July. No matter what my condition is, no matter how much sleep I didn't get, or how much I drank the night before, or how sick I am (like, genuine sickness), I go in. And I hate it, dammit.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
2.12.2009
It just never came up!
I've realized that I have no idea how to talk to women. I don't mean in a casual, conversational situation or whatnot; a significant percentage of my closest friends have always been women, I grew up with living with my mother and my sister, etc. I'm perfectly comfortable with women in almost every situation I can think of, more so than the majority of men my age. But it's that one scenario, that introduction, that gets me. If I have no interest in the woman romantically, I have no problem striking up a conversation if it's a socially appropriate scenario. If I do wind up in conversation with a woman I AM interested, that's cool too. No problems, no worries, just see where it goes. BUT
If I'm out, or at work, or whatever, and I see a beautiful woman who also could be very interesting, I have no idea how to start up a conversation that does not sound like a cheeseball sitcom scenario. I know all the opening lines, but I can't bear to say them. Because they always sound too contrived in my head. When I think of approaching an attractive, interesting woman and asking where she's from or something similar, I hear Ryan Reynolds delivering the lines. And that's not good.
The problem is that I've never had to do that. I know that sounds egotistical, but it's not. It's not that I've always had women falling all over me; it's because I've gone from one long-term relationship to another over the last six years. I've had three serious relationships over the last six years, and they were all pretty much back-to-back. Granted, this last one and I broke up a grand total of three times, but the first two I wasn't interested in pursuing other women at all, I just wanted to die. I did get involved with someone the second time, but that was a totally retarded scenario (because I'm an idiot) and I don't want to talk about it. ANYWAY
Those three relationships also didn't start with a random meeting. They started because of a common prolonged scenario- school, school, and work, respectively. They just kind of happened after a while. But APPARENTLY some people actually approach strangers with the intent of getting involved with them in some way. And I'm finally understanding the need or the desire to do that; I just don't understand the execution quite yet. This, clearly, is irritating.*
So... I feel kind of behind the curve.
Another issue with these types of scenarios is jail. Essentially, if you are a 21 year old male in the year 2009, can be difficult for you to accurately judge the correct age of a girl anywhere between 16 and 22. Because, to the great dismay of many a parent, girls are maturing much younger nowadays. And they do their best to appear to be over 18. This, friends, is a problem. A girl could be 22, but look 16... so you don't go for it. Or a girl could be 16 and look 21... then daddy kills you. But you can't really introduce yourself and be like, "Can I see some ID?"
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
*Also, I've had this obnoxious ringing in my left ear all day, and that is quite irritating. If I wake up dead tomorrow I'm gonna be pissed.
If I'm out, or at work, or whatever, and I see a beautiful woman who also could be very interesting, I have no idea how to start up a conversation that does not sound like a cheeseball sitcom scenario. I know all the opening lines, but I can't bear to say them. Because they always sound too contrived in my head. When I think of approaching an attractive, interesting woman and asking where she's from or something similar, I hear Ryan Reynolds delivering the lines. And that's not good.
The problem is that I've never had to do that. I know that sounds egotistical, but it's not. It's not that I've always had women falling all over me; it's because I've gone from one long-term relationship to another over the last six years. I've had three serious relationships over the last six years, and they were all pretty much back-to-back. Granted, this last one and I broke up a grand total of three times, but the first two I wasn't interested in pursuing other women at all, I just wanted to die. I did get involved with someone the second time, but that was a totally retarded scenario (because I'm an idiot) and I don't want to talk about it. ANYWAY
Those three relationships also didn't start with a random meeting. They started because of a common prolonged scenario- school, school, and work, respectively. They just kind of happened after a while. But APPARENTLY some people actually approach strangers with the intent of getting involved with them in some way. And I'm finally understanding the need or the desire to do that; I just don't understand the execution quite yet. This, clearly, is irritating.*
So... I feel kind of behind the curve.
Another issue with these types of scenarios is jail. Essentially, if you are a 21 year old male in the year 2009, can be difficult for you to accurately judge the correct age of a girl anywhere between 16 and 22. Because, to the great dismay of many a parent, girls are maturing much younger nowadays. And they do their best to appear to be over 18. This, friends, is a problem. A girl could be 22, but look 16... so you don't go for it. Or a girl could be 16 and look 21... then daddy kills you. But you can't really introduce yourself and be like, "Can I see some ID?"
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
*Also, I've had this obnoxious ringing in my left ear all day, and that is quite irritating. If I wake up dead tomorrow I'm gonna be pissed.
2.06.2009
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired
i just want to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
i just want to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta
6:30AM: Alarm goes off. Lament going to sleep only 3 hours prior. Try to set alarm for half an hour later (7AM), but actually set it for 7:30 because I'm still drunk.
7:30AM: Alarm goes off. What the fuck? My head hurts.
7:35-7:45AM: Peel myself off the futon. Put on pants and deodorant. Brush teeth. Change shirt. Put on boots. Hate myself.
7:45AM: Hover in the doorway staring out at the clouds. Grab umbrella. Leave for work. It is freezing out.
7:55AM: Vomit on the sidewalk outside of King's Fish House, then it starts raining. This is either a really dramatic movie about an alcoholic/drug addict, or a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Light a cigarette and continue on my way. Screwdrivers are better on the way down. So are Carl's Jr's chili cheese fries and fried zucchini (why I do that at 2AM I have no idea).
8:07AM: Arrive at work 7 minutes late, soaking wet and shivering. I hate today. Am I still drunk? I can't tell.
8:30AM: Power nap begins, but ends abruptly. Text a friend to tell him I puked in front of King's Fish House on my way to work, get idea for this blog.
7:30AM: Alarm goes off. What the fuck? My head hurts.
7:35-7:45AM: Peel myself off the futon. Put on pants and deodorant. Brush teeth. Change shirt. Put on boots. Hate myself.
7:45AM: Hover in the doorway staring out at the clouds. Grab umbrella. Leave for work. It is freezing out.
7:55AM: Vomit on the sidewalk outside of King's Fish House, then it starts raining. This is either a really dramatic movie about an alcoholic/drug addict, or a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Light a cigarette and continue on my way. Screwdrivers are better on the way down. So are Carl's Jr's chili cheese fries and fried zucchini (why I do that at 2AM I have no idea).
8:07AM: Arrive at work 7 minutes late, soaking wet and shivering. I hate today. Am I still drunk? I can't tell.
8:30AM: Power nap begins, but ends abruptly. Text a friend to tell him I puked in front of King's Fish House on my way to work, get idea for this blog.
1.31.2009
It's all because of the craziness.
Attractive, single women worth pursuing are about as common as job openings right now.
Also, I've come to the conclusion that the more attractive a woman is, she's far more likely to be batshit crazy. This is not necessarily a bad thing; there is a wide variety of craziness, and some of them are a lot of fun. But it's usually a bad thing.
Hotness = Craziness. Also, hotness = big doofy loser boyfriend. Why is this? Because of the craziness.
Also, I've come to the conclusion that the more attractive a woman is, she's far more likely to be batshit crazy. This is not necessarily a bad thing; there is a wide variety of craziness, and some of them are a lot of fun. But it's usually a bad thing.
Hotness = Craziness. Also, hotness = big doofy loser boyfriend. Why is this? Because of the craziness.
1.17.2009
Moderation is Key
I ate far too much sushi last night. Coupled with the usual too much whiskey scenario, my intestines are not in a good place right now.
1.14.2009
Grim Determination
I can feel my idiot resolve building.
I know what is, and I know what is not. And I know what I want. I do not know what I'll have to do to get it, but I finally have an inkling. Inklings are good.
It's nice to get over yourself, you know? Getting in your own way kind of blows, but that's usually the only thing keeping you from what you want.
So... get over yourself. All of you. NOW. I highly recommend it.
I know what is, and I know what is not. And I know what I want. I do not know what I'll have to do to get it, but I finally have an inkling. Inklings are good.
It's nice to get over yourself, you know? Getting in your own way kind of blows, but that's usually the only thing keeping you from what you want.
So... get over yourself. All of you. NOW. I highly recommend it.
1.13.2009
Answering the Call
I've been thinking about this blog lately, reflecting back on the things that I've written about- in particular my own musical endeavors. I've talked about several projects that I've worked on over the last two years, none of which came to fruition, for a variety of reasons. There's the money thing, the "other musicians" thing, the time thing, and hell, sometimes you just get bored, you know?
So I was thinking about this the other day as I was wandering around downtown Long Beach, and about how, as an artist, you have to learn how to fail. The meaning of following the dream isn't in the successes, it's in the failures. It's about trying new things, finding your voice, and falling on your ass. Then GETTING OVER IT.
You have to learn to go with your gut, and to take everything you hear with a grain of salt. People will criticize, but you can't let it get to you. Take what you can from it, but don't take it as the gospel truth. In the end, everyone has an opinion... and it's probably different from yours. Hell, even the people that LIKE what you do could very well like it for totally different reasons than you do. Which is what makes art great- everybody can get something different out of it.
One lesson I learned a few years ago is that you can't get in over your head til you understand the water. Or... some more poetic version of that. This was when I was very early in my understanding of digital recording. I'd recorded some very rough versions of some songs that i'd had at the time, and immediately created a myspace page to promote my project. I had a name, and an idea, and all of that, but there was one crucial element that I did not have- a BAND. This was my first foray into the whole one-man-band thing, and I overlooked something crucial. If I promote this music, people are going to want me to do something with it (gig). Which is exactly what happened. Somehow, though the recordings were rough and there were no vocals, the little bit of promo I was doing got me attention from booking agents. I wound up having to turn down all of these really great offers to play in various venues all over the LA area. As you can imagine, this was very disappointing. The BIG one though... I was contacted by a guy booking a Godhead show at the Whiskey. This was one of those "buy x number of tickets per slot in the evening" type things. Basically, if I bought (for the purpose of selling) x number of tickets, I could open, y number to be second, etc etc all the way up to pre-Godhead. I was FREAKED. One, I love Godhead, and would love to play with them. Two, the Whiskey. Three, I had no money to buy any tickets. And four, even if I'd had the money, I couldn't play anyway because just I'm one guy writing music for a full band. So I called a friend who used to play drums in one of my high school bands, and we spent a while trying to figure out how to pull this off, because it was a golden opportunity. Alas, nothing could be done, and I had to call the guy back and say sorry, can't do it, no band, not enough time, etc.
Since then I've avoided doing this. I'll keep the music I'm working on up on a myspace, but only as a reference for other people. You can't pretend to be something you're not (like, a working band when you're just one 18 year old kid with a guitar and a computer), and you can't rush things. Patience, and resilience, are key. Know you're limits, and establish your priorities and means well before you try to make something happen.
At this point I do have a project, that I absolutely love and am totally stoked about. It's already taken some hits though, most notably from the money thing and the "other musicians" thing (the addition and then subtraction of a vocalist/writing partner). But I adapted my priorities. I know what it's going to take to even begin to make it work, and a couple of pieces are beginning to fall into place. But it's going to take a long time. I realized that with this kind of thing, you can't have a one year plan or even a two year plan. You've got to have a ten year plan. If you want to make it, you've got to be willing to devote a fat freakin' chunk of your life to it. Because, if you're like me, THIS is what you're here for. Art is what gives your life meaning. In turn, you have to give Art your life. That's the nature of the beast.
I thought this would be a lot more profound, but apparently my profundity is sorely lacking at present.
Oh well.
So I was thinking about this the other day as I was wandering around downtown Long Beach, and about how, as an artist, you have to learn how to fail. The meaning of following the dream isn't in the successes, it's in the failures. It's about trying new things, finding your voice, and falling on your ass. Then GETTING OVER IT.
You have to learn to go with your gut, and to take everything you hear with a grain of salt. People will criticize, but you can't let it get to you. Take what you can from it, but don't take it as the gospel truth. In the end, everyone has an opinion... and it's probably different from yours. Hell, even the people that LIKE what you do could very well like it for totally different reasons than you do. Which is what makes art great- everybody can get something different out of it.
One lesson I learned a few years ago is that you can't get in over your head til you understand the water. Or... some more poetic version of that. This was when I was very early in my understanding of digital recording. I'd recorded some very rough versions of some songs that i'd had at the time, and immediately created a myspace page to promote my project. I had a name, and an idea, and all of that, but there was one crucial element that I did not have- a BAND. This was my first foray into the whole one-man-band thing, and I overlooked something crucial. If I promote this music, people are going to want me to do something with it (gig). Which is exactly what happened. Somehow, though the recordings were rough and there were no vocals, the little bit of promo I was doing got me attention from booking agents. I wound up having to turn down all of these really great offers to play in various venues all over the LA area. As you can imagine, this was very disappointing. The BIG one though... I was contacted by a guy booking a Godhead show at the Whiskey. This was one of those "buy x number of tickets per slot in the evening" type things. Basically, if I bought (for the purpose of selling) x number of tickets, I could open, y number to be second, etc etc all the way up to pre-Godhead. I was FREAKED. One, I love Godhead, and would love to play with them. Two, the Whiskey. Three, I had no money to buy any tickets. And four, even if I'd had the money, I couldn't play anyway because just I'm one guy writing music for a full band. So I called a friend who used to play drums in one of my high school bands, and we spent a while trying to figure out how to pull this off, because it was a golden opportunity. Alas, nothing could be done, and I had to call the guy back and say sorry, can't do it, no band, not enough time, etc.
Since then I've avoided doing this. I'll keep the music I'm working on up on a myspace, but only as a reference for other people. You can't pretend to be something you're not (like, a working band when you're just one 18 year old kid with a guitar and a computer), and you can't rush things. Patience, and resilience, are key. Know you're limits, and establish your priorities and means well before you try to make something happen.
At this point I do have a project, that I absolutely love and am totally stoked about. It's already taken some hits though, most notably from the money thing and the "other musicians" thing (the addition and then subtraction of a vocalist/writing partner). But I adapted my priorities. I know what it's going to take to even begin to make it work, and a couple of pieces are beginning to fall into place. But it's going to take a long time. I realized that with this kind of thing, you can't have a one year plan or even a two year plan. You've got to have a ten year plan. If you want to make it, you've got to be willing to devote a fat freakin' chunk of your life to it. Because, if you're like me, THIS is what you're here for. Art is what gives your life meaning. In turn, you have to give Art your life. That's the nature of the beast.
I thought this would be a lot more profound, but apparently my profundity is sorely lacking at present.
Oh well.
1.11.2009
Clearly I Have Issues
I had a dream last night that disturbed me just a little bit. It was one of those dreams (like pretty much all of mine) that is SO vivid, with color, sounds, smells, tastes, touch, everything, and so realistic (up until it became a Marvel/DC crossover somehow) that when I woke up I had no idea where I was or what was going on.
This dream started out with me in my current situation, Guy On The Couch. Somehow, I don't recall exactly, I met this girl. We went back to her place, hooked up, and I spent the night. During the course of that night, and the following day, we made this awesome connection, having great conversations, and just really understanding each other. She then suggested that since this was the case, why don't I stay with her instead of my friends while I'm saving up for a new place? I happily agreed.
However, this only lasted about a week and a half. She broke it off, then I was out on my ass with my few belongings (in this dream all of my possessions fit into a single duffle bag). I then proceeded back to my friends' apartment where I had been staying previously.
After I believe only a few days, I was contacted by, and then hooked up with a real-life female friend of mine whom I haven't seen since high school. She proposed the same scenario as the first girl, which I agreed to.
This one lasted for an even shorter period, after which I wandered around downtown Long Beach, just me and my duffle bag, staring at all the apartment buildings. I also went back to my old building, where I lived for about a year and a half, and spoke with the manager after exploring an apartment with a particularly quirky layout, which I positively loved. She informed me that rent in the building had gone up several thousand dollars.
Somehow after this I started dating Jenna Haze, which proved to be a tumultuous relationship indeed. This is where the "reality" of the dream started to come apart: the whole thing concluded with Batman, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Huntress showing up and battling Norman Osborn, followed by some sort of dancing monkey circle or something.
I swear I didn't do any psychedelics last night. This sort of shit is just par for the course with my subconscious.
This dream started out with me in my current situation, Guy On The Couch. Somehow, I don't recall exactly, I met this girl. We went back to her place, hooked up, and I spent the night. During the course of that night, and the following day, we made this awesome connection, having great conversations, and just really understanding each other. She then suggested that since this was the case, why don't I stay with her instead of my friends while I'm saving up for a new place? I happily agreed.
However, this only lasted about a week and a half. She broke it off, then I was out on my ass with my few belongings (in this dream all of my possessions fit into a single duffle bag). I then proceeded back to my friends' apartment where I had been staying previously.
After I believe only a few days, I was contacted by, and then hooked up with a real-life female friend of mine whom I haven't seen since high school. She proposed the same scenario as the first girl, which I agreed to.
This one lasted for an even shorter period, after which I wandered around downtown Long Beach, just me and my duffle bag, staring at all the apartment buildings. I also went back to my old building, where I lived for about a year and a half, and spoke with the manager after exploring an apartment with a particularly quirky layout, which I positively loved. She informed me that rent in the building had gone up several thousand dollars.
Somehow after this I started dating Jenna Haze, which proved to be a tumultuous relationship indeed. This is where the "reality" of the dream started to come apart: the whole thing concluded with Batman, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Huntress showing up and battling Norman Osborn, followed by some sort of dancing monkey circle or something.
I swear I didn't do any psychedelics last night. This sort of shit is just par for the course with my subconscious.
1.10.2009
Oh,
and last night me and three other people drank almost an entire gallon of vodka. I feel like I should tack that on there.
The End is Nigh
I know I've hit a low point when I'm emotionally affected by any of the crap that's on the radio. Some people would say it was obvious I'd hit that point when I quoted Sarah McLachlan (see last entry), but not me, no sir. It's radio rock.
As of tomorrow, I am on vacation. I have mixed feelings about this vacation. On the one hand, not going to work for ten days is phenomenal. On the other, I'm not really going to have any personal space in which to enjoy this time of rest and relaxation, due to my current status as The Guy On The Couch. And that's kinda, well, meh.
Then there's the third hand, which is concerned about the fact that I'm actually DOING something for several of my vacation days, which I do not usually do. I'm unsure about how I feel regarding my planned activities. I'm partly excited, partly wishing I had made no plans, and partly disappointed that if I'd made no plans it wouldn't really matter anyway because I'm The Guy On The Couch. Vacations should not be this fraught with distress and confusion, but they inevitably are.
Where am I? I mean, seriously. What the fuck.
As of tomorrow, I am on vacation. I have mixed feelings about this vacation. On the one hand, not going to work for ten days is phenomenal. On the other, I'm not really going to have any personal space in which to enjoy this time of rest and relaxation, due to my current status as The Guy On The Couch. And that's kinda, well, meh.
Then there's the third hand, which is concerned about the fact that I'm actually DOING something for several of my vacation days, which I do not usually do. I'm unsure about how I feel regarding my planned activities. I'm partly excited, partly wishing I had made no plans, and partly disappointed that if I'd made no plans it wouldn't really matter anyway because I'm The Guy On The Couch. Vacations should not be this fraught with distress and confusion, but they inevitably are.
Where am I? I mean, seriously. What the fuck.
1.09.2009
K.
"And I have the sense to recognize
That I don't know how to let you go..."
Every fresh wound is a reminder of the one that never healed.
Every dream a memory that could've been, every memory a dream that fell apart.
Freedom is just an illusion for those imprisoned by the past.
I am Quixote, under tutelage of Sisyphus.
That I don't know how to let you go..."
Every fresh wound is a reminder of the one that never healed.
Every dream a memory that could've been, every memory a dream that fell apart.
Freedom is just an illusion for those imprisoned by the past.
I am Quixote, under tutelage of Sisyphus.
1.07.2009
Caterwauling
On my way home from a bar tonight I heard a cat in an alley making one of the worst noises I've ever heard. It was either crying out in desperate protest over its position in the grand scheme of things, or it was getting fucked in the ass.
1.03.2009
Back and Forth
It's funny how during times of great emotional upheaval (i.e., breakups), people go through seemingly random emotional phases. For instance, tonight I'm just depressed, but LAST night the ONLY thing I wanted to do was go out and get in a fight. I had all this crazy aggression all built up and dying to get out, and I just kept thinking "I'll leave, go to a bar, and get in a fight with some douchebag." It's not like it would be hard to do. Thankfully, my calm, rational side prevailed, and I sedated myself to prevent poor choices from being made.
I HATE this back and forth shit. Like, I'm fine, everything's gonna be ok... then this crushing lonliness hits me. It's not like I'm physically alone anymore (like EVER, I live with three other dudes now), but that doesn't matter. I feel hollow and alone, like this part of me is gone and it's hard to breathe without it. Even though things had gotten shitty, she was still... there. No matter how bad things were we could still fall asleep together at the end of the night. Now I sleep alone, and that is the worst fucking thing. The closest I get to a bedmate now is situations like the other night, when I passed out drunk on the couch, then Travis passed out drunk on me. Not quite the same thing, you know?
And my biggest problem is that as soon as I lose that, I always immediately seek to find a replacement. Barring the last time we broke up, for about 3 months, I haven't been well and truly single since the beginning of my junior year of high school. That's five years. FIVE YEARS. 16-21. Crazy.
So... I'm lonely. That's about the only constant for me right now. Happy, sad, angry, whatever, that shit's all over the place. But the lonely isn't going anywhere anytime soon.
I HATE this back and forth shit. Like, I'm fine, everything's gonna be ok... then this crushing lonliness hits me. It's not like I'm physically alone anymore (like EVER, I live with three other dudes now), but that doesn't matter. I feel hollow and alone, like this part of me is gone and it's hard to breathe without it. Even though things had gotten shitty, she was still... there. No matter how bad things were we could still fall asleep together at the end of the night. Now I sleep alone, and that is the worst fucking thing. The closest I get to a bedmate now is situations like the other night, when I passed out drunk on the couch, then Travis passed out drunk on me. Not quite the same thing, you know?
And my biggest problem is that as soon as I lose that, I always immediately seek to find a replacement. Barring the last time we broke up, for about 3 months, I haven't been well and truly single since the beginning of my junior year of high school. That's five years. FIVE YEARS. 16-21. Crazy.
So... I'm lonely. That's about the only constant for me right now. Happy, sad, angry, whatever, that shit's all over the place. But the lonely isn't going anywhere anytime soon.
1.01.2009
Everything I've (Lost/Gained)
It's strange trying to process everything that's occurred in the last few days. I lost the woman I love, the apartment I shared with her, my rather humble recording setup, and the vast majority of my privacy (as I am now sleeping on some friends' couch). My entire life was reduced to I believe 9 boxes, 3 duffle bags, several guitars, and an amp; plus my disassembled desk and three small shelves I took so I'd have somewhere to put my clothes while I'm here (no one likes living out of a suitcase).
The vast majority of my few belongings will remain packed for the 3 months I plan on staying here. It'll make life easier when I finally get a new place, and honestly, it's kind of liberating.
This whole thing is, really. I mean, it all sucks, clearly... but this is about as fresh of a start as you can get. And while I did lose many a good thing, I also lost many a bad thing... which is almost like gaining something, yeah? Few things are more draining than a relationship on the rocks, especially if it drags out for an exceptional period of time. In losing the worry, and the stress, and all of the bad feelings surrounding the whole thing, I gained a new degree of freedom I've not felt in a damn long time, if ever at all.
So here I am, a free man; a newborn once more, set loose in a new world partially of his own making... but mostly not. To do or die, to yank on my bootstraps till they break, to (re)discover the meaning of my own life.
Here goes nothin', right?
The vast majority of my few belongings will remain packed for the 3 months I plan on staying here. It'll make life easier when I finally get a new place, and honestly, it's kind of liberating.
This whole thing is, really. I mean, it all sucks, clearly... but this is about as fresh of a start as you can get. And while I did lose many a good thing, I also lost many a bad thing... which is almost like gaining something, yeah? Few things are more draining than a relationship on the rocks, especially if it drags out for an exceptional period of time. In losing the worry, and the stress, and all of the bad feelings surrounding the whole thing, I gained a new degree of freedom I've not felt in a damn long time, if ever at all.
So here I am, a free man; a newborn once more, set loose in a new world partially of his own making... but mostly not. To do or die, to yank on my bootstraps till they break, to (re)discover the meaning of my own life.
Here goes nothin', right?
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