Grrr. I bought Call of Duty: Black Ops the other day, and have enjoyed playing the single-player part of it.
Maybe I should place that "Grrr" somewhere else, 'cause that's not the grrr-worthy part.
The single-player is great. The game looks good, runs and looks great, and has a well-told story with actual actors lending their voices to it. The grrr-ing part comes in with the multiplayer.
I can't play it.
I'm not sure WHY I can't play it, but every time I try, I crash into the blue screen of death.
I'm running a fresh install of Windows 7 Ultimate, have all the updates, updated drivers, and for whatever reason, I play for a few minutes, then crash out. I then spent several hours looking for fixes to the problem (none of which apply to me), and resigned myself to the fact that I'll probably have to wait until the bozos that made the game, patch it so that it works.
Not wanting to pitch my basically new 'puter out the 22nd-floor window, I've been entertaining myself by just surfing blogs.
And came upon this one.
You Will Not Believe
Seriously. Star Wars yoga. I can't be in a bad mood after seeing that.
<:P
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Things that make you go "SPLOINK!"
Wow, has it really been over a month since my last entry?
Yikes. I'm slipping in my old age.
I have been busy though.
Busyness checklist:
#1: Spending time with Andromeda. Things are going well, 'nuff said. Though Andromeda is heading out to Africa on the 20th.
#2: Up until recently, working lots. Hours have been cut, but for the moment, that's okay.
#3: Nursing my MMO-addiction. I'm STILL enjoying my Star Trek Online and Age of Conan. I would like to make a note that I joke by saying I have an "MMO addiction". I'm not playing them so much that I forget to sleep, eat, shower, or do other things. I'm still haunted by the stories of Chinese and Korean parents neglecting their infant-aged children, and having them die while they go play World of Warcraft at the local internet cafe down the street.
*shudders*
#4: Getting ready for Christmas. I HATE Christmas, and when I have my way, I don't celebrate it. But being as I've almost always been around family, or room-mates, I seem to always get hornswoggled into it. This year, I decided that if I'm going to participate, I'm going to go a bit overboard. And I did so by spending at least $100 on everyone. The irony being that I was flush with money during the shopping, then my hours at work got cut a week later. Go figure.
*closes checklist*
My lightsaber is almost done, I've seen some swanky pictures of it in its semi-finished glory. 'Saberlicious!
I've also had some peculiar thoughts, lately.
The other day I was listening to some Duran Duran on my iPod. Inspiration struck me for a new superhero. "The Reflex"!! Maybe when DC Universe Online comes out, I'll make him. A dual gun-wielding, corporate-sponsored, reality-show hero, with superhuman reflexes that change how he perceives time. I had to explain myself at work, the other day, as to why I was going: "na-na-na-na...na-na-na-na" to myself.
Hint: I was thinking about the song, and my superhero.
I've also contemplated an idea for an ultra-violent video game spoof called "Hater". It would be about ordinary people (a different one for each level), who encounter something they hate. It would tap into the kinds of things that most people find to be extreme annoyances, like telemarketers, or Jehovah's Witnesses canvassing your neighborhood. Maybe even those annoying people with the giant trucks with the dingle-balls attached to the trailer hitch (could be a driving level).
When encountering these things, the characters morph from mainstream reality, into their own personal reality, where they're constantly attacked by wave-after-wave of whatever particular annoying thing that irritates them. And the boss of the level would be an even bigger, badder version of it.
Within this fantasy world, they can creatively use practically anything as weapons. Guns (with no reloading), but other things like weed-whackers, lawn-mowers, or other unusual items could be used to dispatch enemies. "Ridiculosity" would be the theme, and while gory, the violence would also be cartoony.
Andromeda threw her 2 cents in by asking: "what would happen when you just keep shooting an enemy until they're hamburger?"
I figured that maybe the game could go the extra mile and you could scoop up the hamburger, make spaghetti sauce, eat spaghetti, and then watch the X-ray view of it going through your system, continuing to torture the annoying enemies' soul until you poop it out. Could be a mini-game there...
Hrm. It kind of reminds me of that Robot Chicken skit involving trying to kill a werewolf...and NOT using silver.
Yikes. I'm slipping in my old age.
I have been busy though.
Busyness checklist:
#1: Spending time with Andromeda. Things are going well, 'nuff said. Though Andromeda is heading out to Africa on the 20th.
#2: Up until recently, working lots. Hours have been cut, but for the moment, that's okay.
#3: Nursing my MMO-addiction. I'm STILL enjoying my Star Trek Online and Age of Conan. I would like to make a note that I joke by saying I have an "MMO addiction". I'm not playing them so much that I forget to sleep, eat, shower, or do other things. I'm still haunted by the stories of Chinese and Korean parents neglecting their infant-aged children, and having them die while they go play World of Warcraft at the local internet cafe down the street.
*shudders*
#4: Getting ready for Christmas. I HATE Christmas, and when I have my way, I don't celebrate it. But being as I've almost always been around family, or room-mates, I seem to always get hornswoggled into it. This year, I decided that if I'm going to participate, I'm going to go a bit overboard. And I did so by spending at least $100 on everyone. The irony being that I was flush with money during the shopping, then my hours at work got cut a week later. Go figure.
*closes checklist*
My lightsaber is almost done, I've seen some swanky pictures of it in its semi-finished glory. 'Saberlicious!
I've also had some peculiar thoughts, lately.
The other day I was listening to some Duran Duran on my iPod. Inspiration struck me for a new superhero. "The Reflex"!! Maybe when DC Universe Online comes out, I'll make him. A dual gun-wielding, corporate-sponsored, reality-show hero, with superhuman reflexes that change how he perceives time. I had to explain myself at work, the other day, as to why I was going: "na-na-na-na...na-na-na-na" to myself.
Hint: I was thinking about the song, and my superhero.
I've also contemplated an idea for an ultra-violent video game spoof called "Hater". It would be about ordinary people (a different one for each level), who encounter something they hate. It would tap into the kinds of things that most people find to be extreme annoyances, like telemarketers, or Jehovah's Witnesses canvassing your neighborhood. Maybe even those annoying people with the giant trucks with the dingle-balls attached to the trailer hitch (could be a driving level).
When encountering these things, the characters morph from mainstream reality, into their own personal reality, where they're constantly attacked by wave-after-wave of whatever particular annoying thing that irritates them. And the boss of the level would be an even bigger, badder version of it.
Within this fantasy world, they can creatively use practically anything as weapons. Guns (with no reloading), but other things like weed-whackers, lawn-mowers, or other unusual items could be used to dispatch enemies. "Ridiculosity" would be the theme, and while gory, the violence would also be cartoony.
Andromeda threw her 2 cents in by asking: "what would happen when you just keep shooting an enemy until they're hamburger?"
I figured that maybe the game could go the extra mile and you could scoop up the hamburger, make spaghetti sauce, eat spaghetti, and then watch the X-ray view of it going through your system, continuing to torture the annoying enemies' soul until you poop it out. Could be a mini-game there...
Hrm. It kind of reminds me of that Robot Chicken skit involving trying to kill a werewolf...and NOT using silver.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Addendummy (yes, I'm punning)
MMMmm, pun-licious.
In my last post, I mentioned that Andromeda and I had broken up. Things have progressed since then.
After a number of discussions, with both my friends, and her. I decided to give her the 2nd chance she asked for...much to my friends' chagrin. They raised good points, but at the end of the day I felt that I needed to be true to myself (I'm an above-averagely good person), and give her the shot at redemption, even if it causes me problems later.
In any case, for the moment, things are on the way to being patched up. We might go see the movie Megamind on Thursday.
I've been in a Star Warsy mood these last few weeks. Partially from playing Star Wars: the Force Unleashed II, which has led to watching the classic trilogy, the lame prequel trilogy, and generally reading alot of stuff online about Star Wars.
Being a bit of a geek, I have a penchant for taking things that interest me, and find ways of connecting with them. When I was young, I built models, played with licenced toys, etc. And off-and-on, I've considered taking that to the next level. I've contemplated building things like custom replicas. Blasters, lightsabers, starship models...that sort of thing.
I just recently found out that there's a man here, in my city, that does extremely elaborate, functional custom lightsaber work. And for this last week, I've been working on a design with him. The lightsaber he puts together for me with rumble, hum, respond to movement (swinging, striking), activate/de-activate, and will have deflection, clashing, and a bunch of other randomly generated sounds. Oh, and of course, it will light up, and flash-on-clash.
I think, though, given the price quote he gave me ($865, including blade and recharger), I might try and build my own the next time around. I've been looking at the individual bits and bobs, and if I knew a bit about electronics, I could probably build my own for half that.
But we'll see...
In my last post, I mentioned that Andromeda and I had broken up. Things have progressed since then.
After a number of discussions, with both my friends, and her. I decided to give her the 2nd chance she asked for...much to my friends' chagrin. They raised good points, but at the end of the day I felt that I needed to be true to myself (I'm an above-averagely good person), and give her the shot at redemption, even if it causes me problems later.
In any case, for the moment, things are on the way to being patched up. We might go see the movie Megamind on Thursday.
I've been in a Star Warsy mood these last few weeks. Partially from playing Star Wars: the Force Unleashed II, which has led to watching the classic trilogy, the lame prequel trilogy, and generally reading alot of stuff online about Star Wars.
Being a bit of a geek, I have a penchant for taking things that interest me, and find ways of connecting with them. When I was young, I built models, played with licenced toys, etc. And off-and-on, I've considered taking that to the next level. I've contemplated building things like custom replicas. Blasters, lightsabers, starship models...that sort of thing.
I just recently found out that there's a man here, in my city, that does extremely elaborate, functional custom lightsaber work. And for this last week, I've been working on a design with him. The lightsaber he puts together for me with rumble, hum, respond to movement (swinging, striking), activate/de-activate, and will have deflection, clashing, and a bunch of other randomly generated sounds. Oh, and of course, it will light up, and flash-on-clash.
I think, though, given the price quote he gave me ($865, including blade and recharger), I might try and build my own the next time around. I've been looking at the individual bits and bobs, and if I knew a bit about electronics, I could probably build my own for half that.
But we'll see...
Sunday, October 31, 2010
A funny thing happened on the way to the party...
Women sure are funny creatures.
Andromeda broke up with me last night.
Oddly enough, not because of anything I do, or don't do...but because her friends don't like me. It's not a big deal, as I don't like her friends. But I've made it a point to be pleasant to be around. I'm not rude, or judgmental. But I'm not there to impress them, I'm there to impress her. That's how I roll.
She claimed, later on in an apologetic e-mail the morning after (this morning), that she was afraid of rejection. That she was frightened of how powerful her feelings were for me. And that self-doubt, combined with her friends' judgments on how she could "do better" than me, made her decide to shank me from behind, like a ninja.
I've done everything one could possibly do. I treated the girl like platinum-encrusted diamonds. But apparently that's not enough.
But here's the kicker. She didn't show any sign of there being a problem. I'm pretty keen on noticing when things are out of place. On top of that, she chose to break up with me by coming over, dressed to the 9's, on the night we were supposed to go out (I was in the process of getting ready)...then went out.
Without me.
Seems like a weird thing to do. But I guess she felt it needed the personal touch.
Now I'm pretty even-tempered, I don't rage, or cry, when things don't go my way. I'm angry, and hurt, but not so much that I've taken leave of my senses. Something does seem odd about this, though.
Something about the timing of it bothers me. It's like her friends told her to drop me like a hot potato, then probably suggested that if she went out with them, they'd party their faces off, and she'd then have all sorts of hot bodies to chase after her at the bar.
At least that's how it plays out in my head.
In any case, she apologized, and asked for a 2nd chance. I've been mulling it over, and to be honest, I don't see how she has any way of coming back from this. If she's so wishy-washy that she's taking her friends' opinions over her own...
Meh.
Andromeda broke up with me last night.
Oddly enough, not because of anything I do, or don't do...but because her friends don't like me. It's not a big deal, as I don't like her friends. But I've made it a point to be pleasant to be around. I'm not rude, or judgmental. But I'm not there to impress them, I'm there to impress her. That's how I roll.
She claimed, later on in an apologetic e-mail the morning after (this morning), that she was afraid of rejection. That she was frightened of how powerful her feelings were for me. And that self-doubt, combined with her friends' judgments on how she could "do better" than me, made her decide to shank me from behind, like a ninja.
I've done everything one could possibly do. I treated the girl like platinum-encrusted diamonds. But apparently that's not enough.
But here's the kicker. She didn't show any sign of there being a problem. I'm pretty keen on noticing when things are out of place. On top of that, she chose to break up with me by coming over, dressed to the 9's, on the night we were supposed to go out (I was in the process of getting ready)...then went out.
Without me.
Seems like a weird thing to do. But I guess she felt it needed the personal touch.
Now I'm pretty even-tempered, I don't rage, or cry, when things don't go my way. I'm angry, and hurt, but not so much that I've taken leave of my senses. Something does seem odd about this, though.
Something about the timing of it bothers me. It's like her friends told her to drop me like a hot potato, then probably suggested that if she went out with them, they'd party their faces off, and she'd then have all sorts of hot bodies to chase after her at the bar.
At least that's how it plays out in my head.
In any case, she apologized, and asked for a 2nd chance. I've been mulling it over, and to be honest, I don't see how she has any way of coming back from this. If she's so wishy-washy that she's taking her friends' opinions over her own...
Meh.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Time warp(ed)
Wow, I haven't posted since August. Funny thing is, it doesn't seem like such a long time. As usual, I've been busy. Work, dating, work, dating. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I have met someone whom I will call "Andromeda". I've been seeing her regularly for the last 2 months. So far, haven't seen any signs of her being crazy/psychotic (usually it takes a few weeks for those good at hiding it to start to show signs). She also has a very diverse array of skills: being a trained chef, seamstress, and interior decorator, just to name a few. It does make me contemplate my own skills, of which I have none. And I'm not going to count my uncanny ability to not sleep. I enjoy my time with her, and the feeling seems mutual, as I've met her family and pets. At least half of my week is spent with her in some way.
Beyond that, I've been nursing my MMO addiction (Age of Conan), as well as my Rock Band addiction, which has flared up (not unlike hemorrhoids, but much more enjoyable) with the advent of Rock Band 3.
So yeah...for all 1 of you who read this blog, I'm putting up this post to establish that I'm not dead...yet.
I have met someone whom I will call "Andromeda". I've been seeing her regularly for the last 2 months. So far, haven't seen any signs of her being crazy/psychotic (usually it takes a few weeks for those good at hiding it to start to show signs). She also has a very diverse array of skills: being a trained chef, seamstress, and interior decorator, just to name a few. It does make me contemplate my own skills, of which I have none. And I'm not going to count my uncanny ability to not sleep. I enjoy my time with her, and the feeling seems mutual, as I've met her family and pets. At least half of my week is spent with her in some way.
Beyond that, I've been nursing my MMO addiction (Age of Conan), as well as my Rock Band addiction, which has flared up (not unlike hemorrhoids, but much more enjoyable) with the advent of Rock Band 3.
So yeah...for all 1 of you who read this blog, I'm putting up this post to establish that I'm not dead...yet.
Friday, August 20, 2010
20-something...
Been healing from my eye surgery, still getting used to the new field of vision and hi-def quality to my vision, which is now better than 20/20.
Unless, it's first thing in the morning.
I've noticed that first thing in the morning, my eyes rebel, and my vision is a little off. I was given a cornucopia of drops to put in my eyes (which I do, as I was instructed). Apparently, it's due to not enough moisture in my eyes, a temporary side-effect of the procedures done.
I've also noticed that I might very well need reading glasses. While I can count the nose-hairs on a person at 50 yards, I have a hard time clearly seeing things a few inches from my nose. But I'm still healing, so when I go back for my follow-up, I'll ask about it if it's still a problem.
I'm still occasionally dating, with the usual run of luck. I've noticed alot of women like to cancel dates at the last minute. I'd get mad, but to be honest, I'm pretty desensitized to it by now. I look at it as being their loss, not mine.
But it doesn't mean I don't momentarily contemplate fucking them repeatedly with a broken bottle.
I did go on a semi-weird date to the local Garneau theater. It's the type of theater that shows "artistic films". I suffered through a subtitled, foreign film called "I Am Love", with actress Tilda Swinton.
The film was shot well, had good performances, and a lovely orchestral soundtrack in spots. But ultimately, I found the film to be a kind of pointless watch. I found it hard to believe any self-respecting woman (and mother) would stoop to having an affair with their son's best friend. That, and the heavy-handed sex scenes which practically beat you over the head with sexual-imagery metaphors intercut between shots of asses and tits. If anything, I was more entertained by the obvious lesbian couple in the audience, who started the movie sitting side-by-side in the front row, only to inch further, and further apart as the film progressed. By the end, they were several seats apart.
I wonder if one of them made a faux-pas comment during the film...
There are some major forest fires smoldering in the neighboring province of British Columbia. The smoke from said fires has been blowing over here, giving Edmonton a smog so thick, that yesterday, I couldn't see anything out my apartment windows. Even today, there's a heavy haze, and the air has a mesquite BBQ-like tinge.
With all this smoke hanging in the air, I wonder how all the smokers in this town have been handling it. Do they still slink out on smoke breaks to light up? Or do they step outside and just huff the air?
Unless, it's first thing in the morning.
I've noticed that first thing in the morning, my eyes rebel, and my vision is a little off. I was given a cornucopia of drops to put in my eyes (which I do, as I was instructed). Apparently, it's due to not enough moisture in my eyes, a temporary side-effect of the procedures done.
I've also noticed that I might very well need reading glasses. While I can count the nose-hairs on a person at 50 yards, I have a hard time clearly seeing things a few inches from my nose. But I'm still healing, so when I go back for my follow-up, I'll ask about it if it's still a problem.
I'm still occasionally dating, with the usual run of luck. I've noticed alot of women like to cancel dates at the last minute. I'd get mad, but to be honest, I'm pretty desensitized to it by now. I look at it as being their loss, not mine.
But it doesn't mean I don't momentarily contemplate fucking them repeatedly with a broken bottle.
I did go on a semi-weird date to the local Garneau theater. It's the type of theater that shows "artistic films". I suffered through a subtitled, foreign film called "I Am Love", with actress Tilda Swinton.
The film was shot well, had good performances, and a lovely orchestral soundtrack in spots. But ultimately, I found the film to be a kind of pointless watch. I found it hard to believe any self-respecting woman (and mother) would stoop to having an affair with their son's best friend. That, and the heavy-handed sex scenes which practically beat you over the head with sexual-imagery metaphors intercut between shots of asses and tits. If anything, I was more entertained by the obvious lesbian couple in the audience, who started the movie sitting side-by-side in the front row, only to inch further, and further apart as the film progressed. By the end, they were several seats apart.
I wonder if one of them made a faux-pas comment during the film...
There are some major forest fires smoldering in the neighboring province of British Columbia. The smoke from said fires has been blowing over here, giving Edmonton a smog so thick, that yesterday, I couldn't see anything out my apartment windows. Even today, there's a heavy haze, and the air has a mesquite BBQ-like tinge.
With all this smoke hanging in the air, I wonder how all the smokers in this town have been handling it. Do they still slink out on smoke breaks to light up? Or do they step outside and just huff the air?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
"I can see clearly now..."
Unfortunately, the rain is not gone, it's pouring torrentially at the moment. But rain aside, things are alright.
Got my eye surgery done with yesterday, so my vision is corrected. I should hope so, considering the buhjillion dollars it cost me. So I'm somewhat poorer than I used to be. I think I'll call it "sudden onset poverty".
Lots of drops for my eyes, too. LOTS AND LOTS of drops. And halos around light sources are kind of painful, but will go away over the next few weeks. Also having to deal with a bit of distortion of perception as my eyes heal up.
Probably going to find me a fancy pair of designer sunglasses this afternoon. My last spending of money for the foreseeable future.
Otherwise, nothing new to report.
Got my eye surgery done with yesterday, so my vision is corrected. I should hope so, considering the buhjillion dollars it cost me. So I'm somewhat poorer than I used to be. I think I'll call it "sudden onset poverty".
Lots of drops for my eyes, too. LOTS AND LOTS of drops. And halos around light sources are kind of painful, but will go away over the next few weeks. Also having to deal with a bit of distortion of perception as my eyes heal up.
Probably going to find me a fancy pair of designer sunglasses this afternoon. My last spending of money for the foreseeable future.
Otherwise, nothing new to report.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Blurry...
"Too much stress makes Homer go somethin'-somethin'."
"Go crazy?"
"Don't mind if I DO!!"
Erm. Yeah...
Everything is stress. I feel like a huge, raw, exposed nerve.
Just slept for the last 12 hours. I think the only time I don't hurt is when I'm unconscious. I've been thinking about that alot, lately. Or perhaps I should say "constantly". I don't want to be awake any more.
I had to forcibly hold myself together by sheer force of will to not break down while I was at work, yesterday. I might just be coming apart.
Had 1 date cancel on me. Another cancel, last-minute, and go the extra mile by saying "you're a good person, I just can't see myself with you". Bitch didn't even try. Bleh.
On the upside, I recently spent an evening with a woman who works at a health food store I frequent. I suppose I'll refer to her as "T". A pleasant, attractive woman, with a rich voice, beautiful smile, and she makes me feel kind of squishy inside. I guess that last part isn't too hard to accomplish. I probably reek of desperation.
Anyhoo. I bumped into her the other day, and we got to chatting. Chatting which lasted for about 3 hours, until she closed up shop. It didn't seem like that long.
She had had surgery, recently, and was having some problems making ends meet...at least until the end of the month. She hadn't even been able to eat that day. I bought her some supper, and lent her a few bucks. Pretty sure she wasn't fishing for sympathy, which is why I did it. I also did it because it feels good to make someone else's day better. And I got a hug for it. She smelled nice.
*sigh*
I've contemplated asking her out a few times. Not sure it's a good idea. I know she's single, and I know we get along, but I just can't bring myself to do it. Things are so blurry for me right now, I don't think it would be responsible to inadvertantly bring that upon someone else. Not even for my own happiness.
Now on to a different kind of "blurry", I also booked an appointment for a Lasik consultation for next week. I've gotten tired of dropping $450 every few years on glasses. Might as well see what's what about laser eye surgery. Also gotten tired of how easily-broken glasses seem to be. The glasses I'm wearing right now are barely 2 years old, and held together with Crazy Glue. I've been too stubborn to replace them. It seems like a better long-term solution to just get my eyes zapped. Even if I may have to resort to glasses later in life, I won't have to drop nearly as much as I do now for a unique prescription.
*waits for next Thursday*
"Go crazy?"
"Don't mind if I DO!!"
Erm. Yeah...
Everything is stress. I feel like a huge, raw, exposed nerve.
Just slept for the last 12 hours. I think the only time I don't hurt is when I'm unconscious. I've been thinking about that alot, lately. Or perhaps I should say "constantly". I don't want to be awake any more.
I had to forcibly hold myself together by sheer force of will to not break down while I was at work, yesterday. I might just be coming apart.
Had 1 date cancel on me. Another cancel, last-minute, and go the extra mile by saying "you're a good person, I just can't see myself with you". Bitch didn't even try. Bleh.
On the upside, I recently spent an evening with a woman who works at a health food store I frequent. I suppose I'll refer to her as "T". A pleasant, attractive woman, with a rich voice, beautiful smile, and she makes me feel kind of squishy inside. I guess that last part isn't too hard to accomplish. I probably reek of desperation.
Anyhoo. I bumped into her the other day, and we got to chatting. Chatting which lasted for about 3 hours, until she closed up shop. It didn't seem like that long.
She had had surgery, recently, and was having some problems making ends meet...at least until the end of the month. She hadn't even been able to eat that day. I bought her some supper, and lent her a few bucks. Pretty sure she wasn't fishing for sympathy, which is why I did it. I also did it because it feels good to make someone else's day better. And I got a hug for it. She smelled nice.
*sigh*
I've contemplated asking her out a few times. Not sure it's a good idea. I know she's single, and I know we get along, but I just can't bring myself to do it. Things are so blurry for me right now, I don't think it would be responsible to inadvertantly bring that upon someone else. Not even for my own happiness.
Now on to a different kind of "blurry", I also booked an appointment for a Lasik consultation for next week. I've gotten tired of dropping $450 every few years on glasses. Might as well see what's what about laser eye surgery. Also gotten tired of how easily-broken glasses seem to be. The glasses I'm wearing right now are barely 2 years old, and held together with Crazy Glue. I've been too stubborn to replace them. It seems like a better long-term solution to just get my eyes zapped. Even if I may have to resort to glasses later in life, I won't have to drop nearly as much as I do now for a unique prescription.
*waits for next Thursday*
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Sunny...
I've been up all night. Not really sure why or how, as I'm tired beyond all reason. And I'm not being melodramatic when I say that. I feel as if I've had to contain a nuclear detonation inside me.
I feel....spent.
The sun starts rising here at around 4:30-5 AM, and I felt the need to watch it.
It's funny that I can't really remember the last time I've watched the sun rise. The horizon turns brown, then becomes gold, a sort-of-green, then to blue.
I can't help but feel that there was something important in the proceedings. That I needed to witness this.
I wonder why.
I feel....spent.
The sun starts rising here at around 4:30-5 AM, and I felt the need to watch it.
It's funny that I can't really remember the last time I've watched the sun rise. The horizon turns brown, then becomes gold, a sort-of-green, then to blue.
I can't help but feel that there was something important in the proceedings. That I needed to witness this.
I wonder why.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Savin' me...
Been listening to alot of music lately. Going back and listening to things I hadn't listened to in awhile. Seems like the older stuff is better than any new stuff kicking around now.
Also been ruminating about what to do with myself. As usual, I still really don't know. But I think it's time I try focusing on something, as opposed to running in place. Doing that hasn't done much for me these last few years.
Alot of the time I just wish someone could pull me aside and flat out tell me what to do with myself. And not in the go-fuck-yourself kind of way. I suppose I'm just the kind of person that needs some kind of validation.
I guess that makes the following song a bit more relevant than usual.
---Nickelback - Savin' Me
Prison gates won't open up for me.
On these hands and knees, I'm crawlin'.
Oh, I reach for you...
Well, I'm terrified of these four walls.
These iron bars can't hold my soul in.
All I need is you. (Come please, I'm callin').
And, oh, I scream for you. (Hurry...I'm fallin', I'm fallin')
Show me what it's like. (To be the last one standin')
And teach me wrong from right. (And I'll show you what I can be)
Say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me.
Heaven's gates won't open up for me.
With these broken wings, I'm fallin'.
And all I see is you...
These city walls ain't got no love for me.
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story.
And, oh, I scream for you. (Come please, I'm callin')
And all I need from you... (Hurry...I'm fallin', I'm fallin')
Show me what it's like. (To be the last one standin')
And teach me wrong from right. (And I'll show you what I can be)
Say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me.
(Hurry I'm fallin')
Ahhhh-yeah!
And all I need is you. (Come please, I'm callin')
And, oh, I scream for you. (Hurry...I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin')
Show me what it's like. (To be the last one standin')
And teach me wrong from right. (And I'll show you what I can be)
Say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me. (Hurry...I'm fallin')
And say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me...
Also been ruminating about what to do with myself. As usual, I still really don't know. But I think it's time I try focusing on something, as opposed to running in place. Doing that hasn't done much for me these last few years.
Alot of the time I just wish someone could pull me aside and flat out tell me what to do with myself. And not in the go-fuck-yourself kind of way. I suppose I'm just the kind of person that needs some kind of validation.
I guess that makes the following song a bit more relevant than usual.
---Nickelback - Savin' Me
Prison gates won't open up for me.
On these hands and knees, I'm crawlin'.
Oh, I reach for you...
Well, I'm terrified of these four walls.
These iron bars can't hold my soul in.
All I need is you. (Come please, I'm callin').
And, oh, I scream for you. (Hurry...I'm fallin', I'm fallin')
Show me what it's like. (To be the last one standin')
And teach me wrong from right. (And I'll show you what I can be)
Say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me.
Heaven's gates won't open up for me.
With these broken wings, I'm fallin'.
And all I see is you...
These city walls ain't got no love for me.
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story.
And, oh, I scream for you. (Come please, I'm callin')
And all I need from you... (Hurry...I'm fallin', I'm fallin')
Show me what it's like. (To be the last one standin')
And teach me wrong from right. (And I'll show you what I can be)
Say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me.
(Hurry I'm fallin')
Ahhhh-yeah!
And all I need is you. (Come please, I'm callin')
And, oh, I scream for you. (Hurry...I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin')
Show me what it's like. (To be the last one standin')
And teach me wrong from right. (And I'll show you what I can be)
Say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me. (Hurry...I'm fallin')
And say it for me, say it to me.
And I'll leave this life behind me.
Say it, if it's worth savin' me...
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Ruminations...
Found a site that quite possibly might be the most awesome site ever.
Nimoy Sunset Pie
Okay, I might be exaggerating more than a little bit, but being a Star Trek fan I can't help but appreciate that totally whimsical website. I'm not sure why I like it. But in all honesty, how many of us like things a ridiculously huge amount, yet when asked, have no idea why? It's nice to appreciate a little illogic from time-to-time.
On a not-really-similar note, I finally caved and bought Left 4 Dead 2. This makes me a major hypocrite, and I'll explain why in a bit. I saw it on Steam (which is a proprietary front-end for games, FYI) for a measely $12, and caved.
The reason being for my hypocrisy/boycott, was the fact that when the original was developed, there was alot of talk about game support, add-ons, and SDKs for developing your own maps. What happened was very little support, a shitty add-on (not even half the size of a normal campaign), and an SDK put out about a month before they were to release the sequel, which renders the point of an SDK kind of obsolete. A sequel which boasted alot of the innovations the fanbase for the original were asking for. This whole scenario sort of split the community. Some embraced the idea of a sequel that was better than the first game, others (like myself) felt it was a bit of a slap in the face. Given that game development tends to take years, the release of the sequel happened exactly 1 year from the first game. Alot of people felt that the sequel really should've been an add-on for the first game, not a full-blown new game. One that gouges fans of the first for more money. Mind you, it's not like I expected to get all this extra stuff for free, I didn't. I just thought it was kind of offensive to ask full price for what was essentially a few more maps, with a few extra tweaks.
I suppose in my mind, the $12 I spent on Left 4 Dead 2 was worth it. But I still feel a bit heavy with hypocrisy.
Or is if from the Nimoy Sunset Pie...?
Nimoy Sunset Pie
Okay, I might be exaggerating more than a little bit, but being a Star Trek fan I can't help but appreciate that totally whimsical website. I'm not sure why I like it. But in all honesty, how many of us like things a ridiculously huge amount, yet when asked, have no idea why? It's nice to appreciate a little illogic from time-to-time.
On a not-really-similar note, I finally caved and bought Left 4 Dead 2. This makes me a major hypocrite, and I'll explain why in a bit. I saw it on Steam (which is a proprietary front-end for games, FYI) for a measely $12, and caved.
The reason being for my hypocrisy/boycott, was the fact that when the original was developed, there was alot of talk about game support, add-ons, and SDKs for developing your own maps. What happened was very little support, a shitty add-on (not even half the size of a normal campaign), and an SDK put out about a month before they were to release the sequel, which renders the point of an SDK kind of obsolete. A sequel which boasted alot of the innovations the fanbase for the original were asking for. This whole scenario sort of split the community. Some embraced the idea of a sequel that was better than the first game, others (like myself) felt it was a bit of a slap in the face. Given that game development tends to take years, the release of the sequel happened exactly 1 year from the first game. Alot of people felt that the sequel really should've been an add-on for the first game, not a full-blown new game. One that gouges fans of the first for more money. Mind you, it's not like I expected to get all this extra stuff for free, I didn't. I just thought it was kind of offensive to ask full price for what was essentially a few more maps, with a few extra tweaks.
I suppose in my mind, the $12 I spent on Left 4 Dead 2 was worth it. But I still feel a bit heavy with hypocrisy.
Or is if from the Nimoy Sunset Pie...?
Friday, July 2, 2010
Less is less...
Been working on a makeover this last week. Cut all my hair off, and got a bunch of new clothes.
Everyone I know seems really impressed by this. The problem is, I feel even less like myself than I did before.
And I'm not happy.
Maybe less isn't more. Maybe sometimes less is less.
Heard an old Matchbox Twenty song on the intercom. Never been a fan of them, but the song encapsulates how I feel, perfectly.
---Matchbox Twenty - Bent
If I fall along the way...
Pick me up and dust me off.
And if I get too tired to make it.
Be my breath, so I can walk.
And if I need some other lovin'.
Give me more than I can stand.
And when my smile gets old and faded...
Wait around, I'll smile again.
Shouldn't be so complicated.
Just hold me, and then...
Just hold me again!
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together.
Keep breakin' me in!
And this is how we will end...
With you and me....bent.
If I couldn't sleep, could you sleep?
Could you paint me better off?
Could you sympathize with my needs?
I know you think I need alot.
I started out clean, but I'm jaded.
Just phoning it in....
Just breaking the skin.
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together...
Keep breakin' me in!
And this is how we will end.
With you and me....bent.
Start bendin' me...
It's never enough.
'Til I feel all your pieces...
Start bendin' me...
Keep bendin' me until-I'm-completely-broken-in!
Shouldn't be so complicated.
Just touch me, and then...
Oh, just touch me again!
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together.
Keep breakin' me in!
And this is how we will end...
With you and me bendin', without understandin'.
Hell, I'll go there again!
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together.
Yeah, you're breakin' me in.
And this is how we will end...
With you and me....
...bent.
Everyone I know seems really impressed by this. The problem is, I feel even less like myself than I did before.
And I'm not happy.
Maybe less isn't more. Maybe sometimes less is less.
Heard an old Matchbox Twenty song on the intercom. Never been a fan of them, but the song encapsulates how I feel, perfectly.
---Matchbox Twenty - Bent
If I fall along the way...
Pick me up and dust me off.
And if I get too tired to make it.
Be my breath, so I can walk.
And if I need some other lovin'.
Give me more than I can stand.
And when my smile gets old and faded...
Wait around, I'll smile again.
Shouldn't be so complicated.
Just hold me, and then...
Just hold me again!
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together.
Keep breakin' me in!
And this is how we will end...
With you and me....bent.
If I couldn't sleep, could you sleep?
Could you paint me better off?
Could you sympathize with my needs?
I know you think I need alot.
I started out clean, but I'm jaded.
Just phoning it in....
Just breaking the skin.
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together...
Keep breakin' me in!
And this is how we will end.
With you and me....bent.
Start bendin' me...
It's never enough.
'Til I feel all your pieces...
Start bendin' me...
Keep bendin' me until-I'm-completely-broken-in!
Shouldn't be so complicated.
Just touch me, and then...
Oh, just touch me again!
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together.
Keep breakin' me in!
And this is how we will end...
With you and me bendin', without understandin'.
Hell, I'll go there again!
Can you help me? I'm bent.
I'm so scared that I'll never...
Get put back together.
Yeah, you're breakin' me in.
And this is how we will end...
With you and me....
...bent.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Another follow-up...
I did finally hear from "A". After about 60-some hours in. Just shy of 3 days.
Our conversation wasn't pretty.
I'm going to be immature and post a link to her page on POF. Mainly because I can.
It may very well be a douchey maneuver, but I think she deserves it. And I'll elaborate in a bit.
Feel free to berate her mercilessly, because she really needs to get some things straight in her head.
Here's her profile page.
"A's" Profile.
She messaged me on POF, of all places, despite having my phone number, e-mail, and MSN. And Seemed kind of puzzled as to why communication stopped. As I said in my previous post, I took this time to test her a bit, to see if she would come to me instead of me always having to chase her. I also elaborated on a few other things.
Here's the list:
#1 - The lack of reciprocation. She never paid for anything while out with me. Didn't even offer. Didn't even reach for her purse. I don't mind spoiling, And I don't expect said reciprocation to necessarily be monetary. I certainly didn't expect her to sleep with me. I also had to constantly initiate everything. Always moving past the 50/50 mark...into the 80/20, 90/10 area. She was not quite like this in terms of conversation in-person, she engaged there, but only there.
#2 - There was also the illogic of claiming to be unready for anything serious. But having a profile on a dating site, as well as dating several men besides myself seems antithetical to that statement. And then there's the night she made out with me, in my bed, in her underwear. I sort of got the impression from there on in, that we were heading into seriousness. Not so, according to her. Had she said anything, or done anything other than gasp in pleasure, I would've stopped, and taken the hint.
#3 - Entitlement. In retrospect, I got the sense that after being in an unappreciative, 12-year, relationship that she felt entitled to be chased-after and spoiled by multiple men.
In our first date, I recall her making mention of wanting a "paramour" which was, by her definition, having a romantic partner who spends time with you in a relationship-esque fashion, but there's no sex involved. I just ran a search for the definition of paramour, and that's not the definition(s) I found. I think if any woman out there, including "A", thinks she can get into a pseudo-relationship with a man like that...she's obviously living in a different world than..erm..everyone. The only way I can see it even remotely happening is if the man is gay. Because sex is ALWAYS where relationships eventually go with heterosexual men and women. Perhaps it might work with a lesbian and a heterosexual man, as well.
Anyhoo...
#4 - My issue with her dating multiple men. The issue is not what you might think. I actually suspect that out of all the guys she was dating, I was probably the only one sharp enough to suss out that she wasn't only seeing me.
The flipside is that she could very well have hinted at it to all of us, continuing her fascination with having men chase her. It's all speculation now, but it does fit the pattern. This particular issue ties in with my dislike of her dating philosophy/illogic in #1.
If you date a handful of people, set them up in a kind of competition with each other, and expect none of them to become emotionally invested...you've got to be seriously retarded. I'll be honest, I fell for her like a ton of bricks. Even if I was the only one to do so, that's 30% if she's dating 5 guys. Higher if it's less than 5.
But the worst of it is the fact that she was so vehemently opposed to anything serious, while putting out the signals pointing otherwise. So here we are...a group of guys, all competing with each other for the heart of a girl. The problem is the girl's heart isn't available. It's like running a marathon, but instead of a gold medal, international fame, and big bucks for endorsements...the prize is getting horribly gang-raped by a group of 350 lb. bikers.
Which is obviously no prize at all. At least for most people.
I wasn't quite as long-winded, graphic, or meandery in what I posted to her. But I got those points across, and expressed hope for a rebuttal, and further discussion. Not to mention hope that she would consider improving.
I was summarily blocked.
The truth hurts, I guess.
In any case, fuck "A" in her stupid ass.
Our conversation wasn't pretty.
I'm going to be immature and post a link to her page on POF. Mainly because I can.
It may very well be a douchey maneuver, but I think she deserves it. And I'll elaborate in a bit.
Feel free to berate her mercilessly, because she really needs to get some things straight in her head.
Here's her profile page.
"A's" Profile.
She messaged me on POF, of all places, despite having my phone number, e-mail, and MSN. And Seemed kind of puzzled as to why communication stopped. As I said in my previous post, I took this time to test her a bit, to see if she would come to me instead of me always having to chase her. I also elaborated on a few other things.
Here's the list:
#1 - The lack of reciprocation. She never paid for anything while out with me. Didn't even offer. Didn't even reach for her purse. I don't mind spoiling, And I don't expect said reciprocation to necessarily be monetary. I certainly didn't expect her to sleep with me. I also had to constantly initiate everything. Always moving past the 50/50 mark...into the 80/20, 90/10 area. She was not quite like this in terms of conversation in-person, she engaged there, but only there.
#2 - There was also the illogic of claiming to be unready for anything serious. But having a profile on a dating site, as well as dating several men besides myself seems antithetical to that statement. And then there's the night she made out with me, in my bed, in her underwear. I sort of got the impression from there on in, that we were heading into seriousness. Not so, according to her. Had she said anything, or done anything other than gasp in pleasure, I would've stopped, and taken the hint.
#3 - Entitlement. In retrospect, I got the sense that after being in an unappreciative, 12-year, relationship that she felt entitled to be chased-after and spoiled by multiple men.
In our first date, I recall her making mention of wanting a "paramour" which was, by her definition, having a romantic partner who spends time with you in a relationship-esque fashion, but there's no sex involved. I just ran a search for the definition of paramour, and that's not the definition(s) I found. I think if any woman out there, including "A", thinks she can get into a pseudo-relationship with a man like that...she's obviously living in a different world than..erm..everyone. The only way I can see it even remotely happening is if the man is gay. Because sex is ALWAYS where relationships eventually go with heterosexual men and women. Perhaps it might work with a lesbian and a heterosexual man, as well.
Anyhoo...
#4 - My issue with her dating multiple men. The issue is not what you might think. I actually suspect that out of all the guys she was dating, I was probably the only one sharp enough to suss out that she wasn't only seeing me.
The flipside is that she could very well have hinted at it to all of us, continuing her fascination with having men chase her. It's all speculation now, but it does fit the pattern. This particular issue ties in with my dislike of her dating philosophy/illogic in #1.
If you date a handful of people, set them up in a kind of competition with each other, and expect none of them to become emotionally invested...you've got to be seriously retarded. I'll be honest, I fell for her like a ton of bricks. Even if I was the only one to do so, that's 30% if she's dating 5 guys. Higher if it's less than 5.
But the worst of it is the fact that she was so vehemently opposed to anything serious, while putting out the signals pointing otherwise. So here we are...a group of guys, all competing with each other for the heart of a girl. The problem is the girl's heart isn't available. It's like running a marathon, but instead of a gold medal, international fame, and big bucks for endorsements...the prize is getting horribly gang-raped by a group of 350 lb. bikers.
Which is obviously no prize at all. At least for most people.
I wasn't quite as long-winded, graphic, or meandery in what I posted to her. But I got those points across, and expressed hope for a rebuttal, and further discussion. Not to mention hope that she would consider improving.
I was summarily blocked.
The truth hurts, I guess.
In any case, fuck "A" in her stupid ass.
Monday, June 21, 2010
A quick follow-up...
Gahh. Can't sleep...again.
49 hours, 49 minutes since I last chatted with "A", the girl who I mentioned in my last post.
Not a phone call, e-mail, or message from her. Knowing that she's online perpetually, either by way of laptop, or her blackberry phone, just makes it sting all the more.
I have no intention of messaging her. I want to, but I'm not going to. As far as I'm concerned, she failed the test.
And such a simple test it was, too. Busy, or not, I don't think it's too much to ask someone to have them drop a quick phone call, or MSN message. Just to keep in touch. Just to show that they think you're worth the effort. I've seen her online, made my presence available online, but there's nothing...just dead air.
Bleh.
49 hours, 49 minutes since I last chatted with "A", the girl who I mentioned in my last post.
Not a phone call, e-mail, or message from her. Knowing that she's online perpetually, either by way of laptop, or her blackberry phone, just makes it sting all the more.
I have no intention of messaging her. I want to, but I'm not going to. As far as I'm concerned, she failed the test.
And such a simple test it was, too. Busy, or not, I don't think it's too much to ask someone to have them drop a quick phone call, or MSN message. Just to keep in touch. Just to show that they think you're worth the effort. I've seen her online, made my presence available online, but there's nothing...just dead air.
Bleh.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
My boring-ass life...
Hello Blog, good to see you again.
*shakes Blog's hand*
As usual, I've been neglectful of my blog.
I find it hard to balance work, play, and other life stuff to find time for it. Like anyone, I often come home from work exhausted, and in the mood for eating, followed by a 16-hour nap. And the 16-hour nap is an alien concept for me. As in "that never happens".
Also, my life isn't that interesting.
Alot of the stuff I think or feel is barely even interesting to me, and probably much less so for someone else. I'd be posting things like "I counted 2 groundhogs on the way to work this morning". Or "Work was lame", or "I'd rather be a rich porn star". Redundant stuff.
I've also been busy dating these last 2 weeks. I was excited at first, and having a blast with a girl who seems to genuinely like me (or so I thought). But taking a break from the girl, I've been reflecting on it and how it's turning into me going 90% of the distance, and her going maybe 10. Add to that the fact that everything is more or less controlled by her, and for her benefit. For example, she doesn't want anything serious (whereas I do), and so I aquiesce, not pressing the issue.
I've also paid for everything over the course of 5-or-so dates, bought her shoes (sexy shoes), little trinkets, cosmetics, some edible perfume powder, supper(s), drinks, etc. And all the while she's also been dating a handful of others. I think the only thing she bought me was a Coke.
I am not joking.
I don't imply that my paying for everything entitles me to anything, but in retrospect, it feels as if I'm paying for the pleasure of her company. And that she's entitled to have me do that.
I've also noticed that she never phones me, or text-messages me. I'm always having to engage. All of this is sort of making me think that she does all this to empower herself. An ego boost, if you will. Given her background as an unappreciated wife, I can sort of see where this all falls into place.
And this amuses me not at all. At this exact moment I'm testing this theory, by being actively online while she is, and seeing if she'll even bother to message.
At least I've had some interesting conversations with other people over the course of the day.
Heres the list of topics:
-Should lesbians use dildos? (A conundrum, I think)
-What would happen when we encounter aliens with more than 2 genders?
-The use of the euphemism "foodbaby" to indicate the actions of eating, and later, the need to poop. As in "I ate a sandwich and now I have a foodbaby!".
-How "foodbaby" would make for an awesome name for a terrible band.
*shakes Blog's hand*
As usual, I've been neglectful of my blog.
I find it hard to balance work, play, and other life stuff to find time for it. Like anyone, I often come home from work exhausted, and in the mood for eating, followed by a 16-hour nap. And the 16-hour nap is an alien concept for me. As in "that never happens".
Also, my life isn't that interesting.
Alot of the stuff I think or feel is barely even interesting to me, and probably much less so for someone else. I'd be posting things like "I counted 2 groundhogs on the way to work this morning". Or "Work was lame", or "I'd rather be a rich porn star". Redundant stuff.
I've also been busy dating these last 2 weeks. I was excited at first, and having a blast with a girl who seems to genuinely like me (or so I thought). But taking a break from the girl, I've been reflecting on it and how it's turning into me going 90% of the distance, and her going maybe 10. Add to that the fact that everything is more or less controlled by her, and for her benefit. For example, she doesn't want anything serious (whereas I do), and so I aquiesce, not pressing the issue.
I've also paid for everything over the course of 5-or-so dates, bought her shoes (sexy shoes), little trinkets, cosmetics, some edible perfume powder, supper(s), drinks, etc. And all the while she's also been dating a handful of others. I think the only thing she bought me was a Coke.
I am not joking.
I don't imply that my paying for everything entitles me to anything, but in retrospect, it feels as if I'm paying for the pleasure of her company. And that she's entitled to have me do that.
I've also noticed that she never phones me, or text-messages me. I'm always having to engage. All of this is sort of making me think that she does all this to empower herself. An ego boost, if you will. Given her background as an unappreciated wife, I can sort of see where this all falls into place.
And this amuses me not at all. At this exact moment I'm testing this theory, by being actively online while she is, and seeing if she'll even bother to message.
At least I've had some interesting conversations with other people over the course of the day.
Heres the list of topics:
-Should lesbians use dildos? (A conundrum, I think)
-What would happen when we encounter aliens with more than 2 genders?
-The use of the euphemism "foodbaby" to indicate the actions of eating, and later, the need to poop. As in "I ate a sandwich and now I have a foodbaby!".
-How "foodbaby" would make for an awesome name for a terrible band.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Victoriously unhappy...
Got into a semi-deep discussion with my friend, roomie, and co-worker at work, today.
As it occasionally does, it was a discussion based on how I sometimes go about things in an illogical way (which I will admit to when I do it).
Case-in-point, trying to develop romantic relationships. I'm told that I'm not willing to do several simple things to make myself more appealing.
It's true, to an extent. I'm not keen of hitting the gym, but I'm not anywhere near fat...or lazy. I'm not averse to getting a haircut, but I need some kind of idea of what kind of cut to get. I like most of the things I wear (I'm quasi-fashionable), and actually wouldn't mind getting some new wardrobe pieces, etc.
It's all decisions based on variable (and constantly varying) circumstances. And combined with the fact that I don't think there's alot that's unappealing about me, at least on the surface.
Ultimately though, as I tried to explain a bit of my methodology, I simply broke out a personal revelation about myself, and why my relationship attempts fail.
I'm afraid to be happy.
Happiness never lasts for me. Oftentimes it's so fleeting that it can be said to have never happened at all.
I have been alone so long, alienated for so long, that there's a kind of perverse kind of love for my own suffering. I cling to it. I cling to it because it's been the only constant in my life. Unlike friends, family, even possessions, my pain has never abandoned me. And so I cling to it, like a drowning man would cling to a life-preserver in the middle of the ocean. In an uncertain, and confusing world, it will always be there for me.
And because I know that I have problems, I feel a sense of responsibility concerning relationships. On one hand, I want to be in one almost desperately. I would bleed for a honest-to-God "good relationship". I want to be with someone I can trust and confide in, and unveil my innermost secrets, and return that in kind.
On the other, I know that only an extreme few would be okay with some of the things I think, need, or feel. And it's disheartening to keep trying, only to keep failing. And I suspect that I set myself up deliberately to fail. I start to question my value. I ask "do I have anything to really offer?".
And I suspect that I don't...and I can't subject anyone to that.
I try to explain all this, but all my friend does is make semi-jokey comments. And I start to remember why I don't share this type of stuff very often.
I end up feeling totally misunderstood. Like I'm speaking a different language.
And the only one who knows my language...is me.
As it occasionally does, it was a discussion based on how I sometimes go about things in an illogical way (which I will admit to when I do it).
Case-in-point, trying to develop romantic relationships. I'm told that I'm not willing to do several simple things to make myself more appealing.
It's true, to an extent. I'm not keen of hitting the gym, but I'm not anywhere near fat...or lazy. I'm not averse to getting a haircut, but I need some kind of idea of what kind of cut to get. I like most of the things I wear (I'm quasi-fashionable), and actually wouldn't mind getting some new wardrobe pieces, etc.
It's all decisions based on variable (and constantly varying) circumstances. And combined with the fact that I don't think there's alot that's unappealing about me, at least on the surface.
Ultimately though, as I tried to explain a bit of my methodology, I simply broke out a personal revelation about myself, and why my relationship attempts fail.
I'm afraid to be happy.
Happiness never lasts for me. Oftentimes it's so fleeting that it can be said to have never happened at all.
I have been alone so long, alienated for so long, that there's a kind of perverse kind of love for my own suffering. I cling to it. I cling to it because it's been the only constant in my life. Unlike friends, family, even possessions, my pain has never abandoned me. And so I cling to it, like a drowning man would cling to a life-preserver in the middle of the ocean. In an uncertain, and confusing world, it will always be there for me.
And because I know that I have problems, I feel a sense of responsibility concerning relationships. On one hand, I want to be in one almost desperately. I would bleed for a honest-to-God "good relationship". I want to be with someone I can trust and confide in, and unveil my innermost secrets, and return that in kind.
On the other, I know that only an extreme few would be okay with some of the things I think, need, or feel. And it's disheartening to keep trying, only to keep failing. And I suspect that I set myself up deliberately to fail. I start to question my value. I ask "do I have anything to really offer?".
And I suspect that I don't...and I can't subject anyone to that.
I try to explain all this, but all my friend does is make semi-jokey comments. And I start to remember why I don't share this type of stuff very often.
I end up feeling totally misunderstood. Like I'm speaking a different language.
And the only one who knows my language...is me.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Champion of Chimp-peon?
I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned that I enjoy MMOs. So far, the best one I've ever played was Lord of the Rings: Online. Though it does sadden me to say that I don't play it anymore.
I've played several others, some good, some bad. I'm currently playing Star Trek Online, and Champions Online.
After a few bad experiences with MMOs I've gotten into the habit of not playing them until their first year of running, just so that many of the bugs can get ironed out. Given that I'm a fan of both superheroes and sci-fi, I broke that cardinal rule, and tried both. I got into Star Trek Online about 1 month after it hit the shelves, and tried Champions Online about 3-4 months in. Champions has been kind of hit-and-miss with me. It was buggy, had lag issues, servers constantly crashing, and creating characters with a good spread of skills was kind of tough because the descriptions of the abilities you were buying weren't often clear. It also doesn't take place in a world I'm familiar with, based on a RPG I've never played. Everything in the Champions universe seems like hodge-podge of homages to practically every sci-fi/fantasy/comic situation or character. Instead of Hulk, you get Grond. Instead of Iron Man, you get Defender, etc. I think there's a fine line between "homage" and "being unoriginal bastards". But after taking a 2-month break, I heard that they had done some revisions, fixed some bugs, applied some patches, and I'm back to my crime-fighting. And might need a 12-step program to quit.
Got a game-related milestone accomplished, too. Leveled a character up to level 25, and made them a nemesis to fight. Yay me! But does this make me a champion, or a chimp-peon?
Star Trek had alot more polish, had kick-ass space combat, and was overall pretty awash with Trekishness. Having watched all the different series' growing up, films as well, it was a formative thing while I was growing up. But I kind of let my fandom of Trek slide for the last few years. Playing Star Trek Online certainly rekindled that. If only the leveling were a bit easier, with less grinding cookie-cutter missions.
I think I have a hankering to play some now.
"Beam me up, Scotty."
I've played several others, some good, some bad. I'm currently playing Star Trek Online, and Champions Online.
After a few bad experiences with MMOs I've gotten into the habit of not playing them until their first year of running, just so that many of the bugs can get ironed out. Given that I'm a fan of both superheroes and sci-fi, I broke that cardinal rule, and tried both. I got into Star Trek Online about 1 month after it hit the shelves, and tried Champions Online about 3-4 months in. Champions has been kind of hit-and-miss with me. It was buggy, had lag issues, servers constantly crashing, and creating characters with a good spread of skills was kind of tough because the descriptions of the abilities you were buying weren't often clear. It also doesn't take place in a world I'm familiar with, based on a RPG I've never played. Everything in the Champions universe seems like hodge-podge of homages to practically every sci-fi/fantasy/comic situation or character. Instead of Hulk, you get Grond. Instead of Iron Man, you get Defender, etc. I think there's a fine line between "homage" and "being unoriginal bastards". But after taking a 2-month break, I heard that they had done some revisions, fixed some bugs, applied some patches, and I'm back to my crime-fighting. And might need a 12-step program to quit.
Got a game-related milestone accomplished, too. Leveled a character up to level 25, and made them a nemesis to fight. Yay me! But does this make me a champion, or a chimp-peon?
Star Trek had alot more polish, had kick-ass space combat, and was overall pretty awash with Trekishness. Having watched all the different series' growing up, films as well, it was a formative thing while I was growing up. But I kind of let my fandom of Trek slide for the last few years. Playing Star Trek Online certainly rekindled that. If only the leveling were a bit easier, with less grinding cookie-cutter missions.
I think I have a hankering to play some now.
"Beam me up, Scotty."
Monday, May 31, 2010
Blargle-blargle!
I've thought about posting something for the last week or so. I get moments of inspiration. Like seeing, or thinking something on the way to work. But alot of the time I just get so run-down over the course of the day that I put it off, and forget to post it.
A couple weird things happened, recently.
I've been researching some peculiar, and prolongued, symptoms I've been experiencing. Things like extreme fatigue, A weird recurring buildup on my tongue, chronic pain, problems concentrating, etc. I've got some kind of infection. My research has led me to some form of Candidiasis. I suspect that at some point after a bout with pneumonia approximately 2-or-so years ago, the antibiotics killed what was making me sick, but also stripped my body of all the good bacteria every human being needs to be healthy. And when this happened, other things came to roost, and my beleaguered immune system couldn't fight it off. I picked up some things that should help me regulate, and after taking them for a few days, I feel somewhat improved. Also stopped drinking energy drinks, replaced them with varying fruit juices. Been enjoying the acai berry blend.
Today, at work, I was sweeping up a mess I'd made, and accidentally knocked over the garbage can I was dumping it in to. Most normal people, would say things like "shit!", or "dammit!". I wanted to say those things, but what came out of my mouth was "Blargle-blargle!". Imagine yelling that out, when it was totally not what you were intending to say. I felt like I'd suddenly been dubbed in an alien language.
I gots me a spiffy new bottle of cologne, called Dunhill Desire. I've been having a hard time finding it here. When I do, I'm usually too strapped for cash to get it. But now, I have a very large bottle, and it smells just like I remember it. Just the scent practically makes me orgasm...
...Which is probably not a good thing to mention. A too-much-information kind of thing.
Tough, I said it.
It smells so close to cotton candy. I have to resist spraying it on everything I own.
Now if I weren't STILL having such terrible luck with women, I'd expect that smelling this stuff might actually attract one. But as usual, my wooing skills are insufficient. I'm yet again considering swearing off women. Which isn't really the right way of putting it. It's so bad that I think it's more like women have sworn off me.
Bleh.
A couple weird things happened, recently.
I've been researching some peculiar, and prolongued, symptoms I've been experiencing. Things like extreme fatigue, A weird recurring buildup on my tongue, chronic pain, problems concentrating, etc. I've got some kind of infection. My research has led me to some form of Candidiasis. I suspect that at some point after a bout with pneumonia approximately 2-or-so years ago, the antibiotics killed what was making me sick, but also stripped my body of all the good bacteria every human being needs to be healthy. And when this happened, other things came to roost, and my beleaguered immune system couldn't fight it off. I picked up some things that should help me regulate, and after taking them for a few days, I feel somewhat improved. Also stopped drinking energy drinks, replaced them with varying fruit juices. Been enjoying the acai berry blend.
Today, at work, I was sweeping up a mess I'd made, and accidentally knocked over the garbage can I was dumping it in to. Most normal people, would say things like "shit!", or "dammit!". I wanted to say those things, but what came out of my mouth was "Blargle-blargle!". Imagine yelling that out, when it was totally not what you were intending to say. I felt like I'd suddenly been dubbed in an alien language.
I gots me a spiffy new bottle of cologne, called Dunhill Desire. I've been having a hard time finding it here. When I do, I'm usually too strapped for cash to get it. But now, I have a very large bottle, and it smells just like I remember it. Just the scent practically makes me orgasm...
...Which is probably not a good thing to mention. A too-much-information kind of thing.
Tough, I said it.
It smells so close to cotton candy. I have to resist spraying it on everything I own.
Now if I weren't STILL having such terrible luck with women, I'd expect that smelling this stuff might actually attract one. But as usual, my wooing skills are insufficient. I'm yet again considering swearing off women. Which isn't really the right way of putting it. It's so bad that I think it's more like women have sworn off me.
Bleh.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Now with more SMRT!
Been away for awhile. Been busy. Between failed connections with women, work, work, and more work, and then studying (more on that later), much of my time has been so gobbled up, I've forgone downloading porn and gaming online. Seriously, no porn, no gaming. For me, someone who normally squeezes in even a few minutes here 'n there, it's like Moses parting the red sea. A biblical event. Maybe I should apply for sainthood.
Ummm. Probably not.
For the last month-or-so, things have become kind of hectic. My old supervisor, a great guy, and a greater boss, was transferred. This event was both a blessing for him, and a curse for those of us left behind. I am glad for him, though, The manager at my location rode his ass like a pony for a year, trying to get him to quit, and couldn't do it. So my hat's off to you, ex-supervisor homie!
A new, more incapable, lazy, useless, fat, stupid...erm...did I mention fat and stupid? And lazy? I suppose I digress. In any case, she is everything that my old supervisor isn't, and never could be. At least not without alot of invasive cosmetic surgery that would turn him into a fat, lazy, woman with arm-jowls, and a penchant for tremendous bursts of irrational, illogical thought. Now I realize this might make me sound like a woman-hater. I'd like to interject that I am not. I just don't get along with fat, lazy, inept people...who, in this case, just so happens to be a woman.
Anyhoo. Where he worked damn hard, helped out, made our lives easier, was a sympathetic human being, and inspired us, etc.. The new one is like the Bizarro-version of him. Where he would see a need for something done, and saw noone capable of doing it, he would jump in and do it himself. Not so, with Chubby McArm-jowls. She'll leave you hangin', while she delegates stuff that's supposed to be her job, and then disappears for 4 hours, upstairs in the office. Presumably to eat small children who have been slow-roasted over low-heat to preserve their juices.
And then there's the irrational, and illogical things she's doing, and gets away with.
My ex-boss, the aforementioned pony, had X amount of hours he could distribute amongst staff. He had to answer for any amount of shrink our department produced, answer for the lack of product produced, and answer for a cornucopia of other things involving the department's day-to-day activity. All of which had him under the threat of being fired. Mind you, not alot of this was justified, as rumor (and the fact the manager is a serious bastard) suggests that the store manager was simply looking for excuses to fire him. In a battle between a guy with over 20 years of experience in a given field, versus a manager with a lifetime experience of nothing else but being one of the purest asshole-douchebag hybrids I've ever seen...well, I'd side with the guy who has field-experience. Apparently that defies logic somehow. Chubby McArm-jowls apparently has free reign to do whatever she likes, with no fear of repercussion. All restrictions my old boss had, she doesn't. And it doesn't take more than a glance to tell she's nowhere near as competent as he was. This past week alone, she ordered waaay too much stock. Everyone told her she ordered too much stock. And this week, when all that stock sat around in the back room, and expired...thousands of dollars of product was wasted. And boy does it puzzle the shit out of me how a person gets away with that scot-free.
Just thinking about all that makes red stuff come out of my nose and ears. Ketchup? Hrm, tastes salty...
I suppose I'll just touch on a few other recent events, while I await medical attention:
-Been working like a dog. Work is Hell. And I've been contemplating quitting in a very serious fashion.
-Met a few women. Got either horribly rejected, neglected, or shown that they were crazy bitches.
-The need for better work caused me to finally get up off my ass and cram for my GED.
-Wrote the GED. Passed the GED. I am now SMRT! Now the job-hunting shall begin.
-I just got woken up by a peculiar dream. In my dream, I was sleeping, and something was entering my room, which woke me up. I couldn't see what it was and threw something at it to make it leave. I then snapped awake. The dream was so real, it took me a minute to realize I wasn't sleeping.
-I think my refrigerator just stopped working. SHIT!
Ummm. Probably not.
For the last month-or-so, things have become kind of hectic. My old supervisor, a great guy, and a greater boss, was transferred. This event was both a blessing for him, and a curse for those of us left behind. I am glad for him, though, The manager at my location rode his ass like a pony for a year, trying to get him to quit, and couldn't do it. So my hat's off to you, ex-supervisor homie!
A new, more incapable, lazy, useless, fat, stupid...erm...did I mention fat and stupid? And lazy? I suppose I digress. In any case, she is everything that my old supervisor isn't, and never could be. At least not without alot of invasive cosmetic surgery that would turn him into a fat, lazy, woman with arm-jowls, and a penchant for tremendous bursts of irrational, illogical thought. Now I realize this might make me sound like a woman-hater. I'd like to interject that I am not. I just don't get along with fat, lazy, inept people...who, in this case, just so happens to be a woman.
Anyhoo. Where he worked damn hard, helped out, made our lives easier, was a sympathetic human being, and inspired us, etc.. The new one is like the Bizarro-version of him. Where he would see a need for something done, and saw noone capable of doing it, he would jump in and do it himself. Not so, with Chubby McArm-jowls. She'll leave you hangin', while she delegates stuff that's supposed to be her job, and then disappears for 4 hours, upstairs in the office. Presumably to eat small children who have been slow-roasted over low-heat to preserve their juices.
And then there's the irrational, and illogical things she's doing, and gets away with.
My ex-boss, the aforementioned pony, had X amount of hours he could distribute amongst staff. He had to answer for any amount of shrink our department produced, answer for the lack of product produced, and answer for a cornucopia of other things involving the department's day-to-day activity. All of which had him under the threat of being fired. Mind you, not alot of this was justified, as rumor (and the fact the manager is a serious bastard) suggests that the store manager was simply looking for excuses to fire him. In a battle between a guy with over 20 years of experience in a given field, versus a manager with a lifetime experience of nothing else but being one of the purest asshole-douchebag hybrids I've ever seen...well, I'd side with the guy who has field-experience. Apparently that defies logic somehow. Chubby McArm-jowls apparently has free reign to do whatever she likes, with no fear of repercussion. All restrictions my old boss had, she doesn't. And it doesn't take more than a glance to tell she's nowhere near as competent as he was. This past week alone, she ordered waaay too much stock. Everyone told her she ordered too much stock. And this week, when all that stock sat around in the back room, and expired...thousands of dollars of product was wasted. And boy does it puzzle the shit out of me how a person gets away with that scot-free.
Just thinking about all that makes red stuff come out of my nose and ears. Ketchup? Hrm, tastes salty...
I suppose I'll just touch on a few other recent events, while I await medical attention:
-Been working like a dog. Work is Hell. And I've been contemplating quitting in a very serious fashion.
-Met a few women. Got either horribly rejected, neglected, or shown that they were crazy bitches.
-The need for better work caused me to finally get up off my ass and cram for my GED.
-Wrote the GED. Passed the GED. I am now SMRT! Now the job-hunting shall begin.
-I just got woken up by a peculiar dream. In my dream, I was sleeping, and something was entering my room, which woke me up. I couldn't see what it was and threw something at it to make it leave. I then snapped awake. The dream was so real, it took me a minute to realize I wasn't sleeping.
-I think my refrigerator just stopped working. SHIT!
Friday, March 26, 2010
Oops...pornography!
Being painfully single, and living with 3 roomies has its challenges.
For example, having been alone as much as I have, I'm used to...erm..."snapping one off" whenever I feel like it. Same goes for watching porn. Now me, being a very private person, I'm very hush-hush about porn. I don't talk about it much, express much external interest in it (though I have some), I'd even go so far as to say I'm kind of in the closet concerning porn. Not sure why. It might have something to do with previous relationships where porn became something of a communal scenario. And the experience(s) couldn't be described as "fun". Unless you live in a bizarro world where up-is-down, in-is-out, good-is-evil, and "fun" is actually like getting your bits 'n pieces caught in a belt-sander.
While in relationships, the porn-viewing became more of a Ebert & Roeper (or perhaps even a Waldorf & Statler)-type affair. Nothing kills eroticism (what little there may be to had, depending on the porn being viewed) like critiquing/heckling. But I digress...
The point I was attempting to make (and stopped to ramble, during) was that for me, there has been some adjustment in having roomies. I no longer watch, or download as much porn as I used to. The frequency in which I masturbate, has also declined. Even with my door closed to my room, I simply cannot trust that a roomie won't come a-bangin' at my door, for some retarded reason or another. I've acquired masturbatory paranoia.
Which reminds me (again, with the rambling!) of what I was going to post in the first place. I needed to talk to a roomie, earlier this week. So I went down the hall, to their room, and knocked on the door. "Yo!", responded my roomie. Now to me, a hearty "Yo!" means "Come on in!". Let's just say I caught him on his laptop, with his knickers down, watching some hot black-on-white, interracial action.
Oops.
I admit that we both really handled the situation like champs. He simply stopped what he was doing, looked up, and said: "Dude, I'm watching some porn". To which I replied: "Hrm, sorry", and I promptly closed the door.
For example, having been alone as much as I have, I'm used to...erm..."snapping one off" whenever I feel like it. Same goes for watching porn. Now me, being a very private person, I'm very hush-hush about porn. I don't talk about it much, express much external interest in it (though I have some), I'd even go so far as to say I'm kind of in the closet concerning porn. Not sure why. It might have something to do with previous relationships where porn became something of a communal scenario. And the experience(s) couldn't be described as "fun". Unless you live in a bizarro world where up-is-down, in-is-out, good-is-evil, and "fun" is actually like getting your bits 'n pieces caught in a belt-sander.
While in relationships, the porn-viewing became more of a Ebert & Roeper (or perhaps even a Waldorf & Statler)-type affair. Nothing kills eroticism (what little there may be to had, depending on the porn being viewed) like critiquing/heckling. But I digress...
The point I was attempting to make (and stopped to ramble, during) was that for me, there has been some adjustment in having roomies. I no longer watch, or download as much porn as I used to. The frequency in which I masturbate, has also declined. Even with my door closed to my room, I simply cannot trust that a roomie won't come a-bangin' at my door, for some retarded reason or another. I've acquired masturbatory paranoia.
Which reminds me (again, with the rambling!) of what I was going to post in the first place. I needed to talk to a roomie, earlier this week. So I went down the hall, to their room, and knocked on the door. "Yo!", responded my roomie. Now to me, a hearty "Yo!" means "Come on in!". Let's just say I caught him on his laptop, with his knickers down, watching some hot black-on-white, interracial action.
Oops.
I admit that we both really handled the situation like champs. He simply stopped what he was doing, looked up, and said: "Dude, I'm watching some porn". To which I replied: "Hrm, sorry", and I promptly closed the door.
Monday, March 15, 2010
...Not as single spies, but in battalions
Argh. I've heard good things come in threes, but I've recently experienced that the opposite is also true.
About 3 weeks-or-so ago, 3 extremely unpleasant things happened.
#1. The motherboard on my 'puter got cooked. Not sure how, but I suspect via a power surge that overwhelmed my surge-protector. Me without 'puter, makes Homer go something-something.
So, silly me decided to upgrade. I got a new processor, motherboard, RAM, and a new power supply. I got a friend to help me put it all together ('cause I wasn't sure I could). And it didn't work. I then spent a week trying to figure out what was wrong. I finally caved and took it in, and it turns out that the new, swanky RAM I got was not compatible with the motherboard. Or more accurately, the RAM should've been compatible, was on paper, but was in fact, not. I had to settle for stable, but less powerful RAM. 'Puter is good now.
#2. Around that same time my 'puter went poof, my MSN/Hotmail e-mail account, my POF account, and a few of my gaming accounts got hacked. I suspect it was Mary (my most recent ex, who might've known my passwords).
Thankfully, I've sorted out everything but the e-mail problems. Microsoft is staggeringly unhelpful in that regard. I've gotten 3 e-mails from them asking for the exact same shit I've already sent to confirm that it was my e-mail and account to begin with. So I just made a whole new e-mail.
#3. Also during the above stuff, I acquired some kind of massive eye infection. I missed 6-or-so shifts at work (totalling around $600 lost), because it was thought to be conjunctivitis. Health and safety states that in the food industry, one cannot work while sick with something extremely contagious. So I missed a bunch of work. I also spent 3 days straight with my head jammed under a pillow, lights out, ready to scream. The faintest of light caused intense, intense, INTENSE pain. Saying it 3 times should indicate just how intense that pain was.
*quits whinin'*
About 3 weeks-or-so ago, 3 extremely unpleasant things happened.
#1. The motherboard on my 'puter got cooked. Not sure how, but I suspect via a power surge that overwhelmed my surge-protector. Me without 'puter, makes Homer go something-something.
So, silly me decided to upgrade. I got a new processor, motherboard, RAM, and a new power supply. I got a friend to help me put it all together ('cause I wasn't sure I could). And it didn't work. I then spent a week trying to figure out what was wrong. I finally caved and took it in, and it turns out that the new, swanky RAM I got was not compatible with the motherboard. Or more accurately, the RAM should've been compatible, was on paper, but was in fact, not. I had to settle for stable, but less powerful RAM. 'Puter is good now.
#2. Around that same time my 'puter went poof, my MSN/Hotmail e-mail account, my POF account, and a few of my gaming accounts got hacked. I suspect it was Mary (my most recent ex, who might've known my passwords).
Thankfully, I've sorted out everything but the e-mail problems. Microsoft is staggeringly unhelpful in that regard. I've gotten 3 e-mails from them asking for the exact same shit I've already sent to confirm that it was my e-mail and account to begin with. So I just made a whole new e-mail.
#3. Also during the above stuff, I acquired some kind of massive eye infection. I missed 6-or-so shifts at work (totalling around $600 lost), because it was thought to be conjunctivitis. Health and safety states that in the food industry, one cannot work while sick with something extremely contagious. So I missed a bunch of work. I also spent 3 days straight with my head jammed under a pillow, lights out, ready to scream. The faintest of light caused intense, intense, INTENSE pain. Saying it 3 times should indicate just how intense that pain was.
*quits whinin'*
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Everything's comin' up Milhouse!
It's been awhile, but I had some time to kill so I thought I'd take a few minutes to add another entry.
Things are lookin' good (finally!). I'm finally over my sniffles, got moved to the new place, have gotten adjusted to having roomies, been going out with a woman that seems to enjoy my company (though I wouldn't say we're dating). I also got paid, got my holiday pay, and got 2/3rds of my damage deposit back from my old apartment.
So, long-story-short everything's comin' up Milhouse!
Going to grab a small 'fridge for my room this week. Unfortunately, it means I need to get off my ass and finish unpacking the junk in my room.
Booo!
But "boo" in a good way.
I need to savor these moments and appreciate them more, they're very few and far-between.
Things are lookin' good (finally!). I'm finally over my sniffles, got moved to the new place, have gotten adjusted to having roomies, been going out with a woman that seems to enjoy my company (though I wouldn't say we're dating). I also got paid, got my holiday pay, and got 2/3rds of my damage deposit back from my old apartment.
So, long-story-short everything's comin' up Milhouse!
Going to grab a small 'fridge for my room this week. Unfortunately, it means I need to get off my ass and finish unpacking the junk in my room.
Booo!
But "boo" in a good way.
I need to savor these moments and appreciate them more, they're very few and far-between.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Sniffles 'n shit...
Been sick the last few days. I only seem to catch horrible sinus or respiratory infections. I'm not sure what mine is yet, but it's not fun. I'd rather be stuck in a bathroom barfing every few minutes, than have my sinuses leak so bad that my face is raw from blowing my nose. I'm using aloe to try and minimize the rawness. But the need to blow makes it a losing battle.
To make matters worse, I'm in the middle of moving and cleaning my old apartment, which I have to vacate by this upcoming Thursday. And I've been doing all the moving and cleaning by myself, while sick, and while working. I'd like to just be able to sit at home and convalesce, and get better, but I can't. And that is the cherry on top of this particular shit sundae.
*sigh*
With most of my stuff here at the new place, I already miss the quiet solitude of the old one. I miss the privacy. I don't feel like I can do what I want, when I want. I have this vibe that this whole arrangement is not going to go well. And my being sick is not exactly helping my morale.
I hope I feel better tomorrow. I really need to get shit done.
To make matters worse, I'm in the middle of moving and cleaning my old apartment, which I have to vacate by this upcoming Thursday. And I've been doing all the moving and cleaning by myself, while sick, and while working. I'd like to just be able to sit at home and convalesce, and get better, but I can't. And that is the cherry on top of this particular shit sundae.
*sigh*
With most of my stuff here at the new place, I already miss the quiet solitude of the old one. I miss the privacy. I don't feel like I can do what I want, when I want. I have this vibe that this whole arrangement is not going to go well. And my being sick is not exactly helping my morale.
I hope I feel better tomorrow. I really need to get shit done.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Dazed and Confused
I'm tired and I can't sleep. It could have something to do with the fact that I'm pissed right off.
I've learned a harsh lesson. I've been courting a few women online, off the Plenty of Fish website (and again, I'm not linking it).
Yes, I caved. Yes, I feel kind of ashamed about it. I'm lonely, sue me.
The lesson is based on a certain realization I had concerning the "rules of engagement" while attempting to connect online. The new rule was to "move fast, strike hard, close the deal". That is to say chat quick, be concise, go out. Why? Because whenever you chat online (or phone, or even in person) for a prolongued period of time with a woman, the more protracted the courting is, the greater the chance that things will go wrong. Either you, or she, will say something or do something wrong. Emotions become involved, attachments formed, and then when something finally does go wrong, people get hurt. Like myself, for instance. I've broken the rule on a few occasions recently. And here are the results.
Both this Wednesday, and Saturday, I had a tentative plan (mutually-agreed) to go out with a particular woman. Said woman hasn't contacted me since Tuesday. Never followed up on said plans, and has been unresponsive to the single e-mail I sent her. Maybe there's been a personal emergency, maybe not. But how hard is it to shoot someone an e-mail? I should also mention, she has my phone number, too. So I'm left frustrated and hurt, and with no sense of closure. I have no idea what the Hell happened.
Woman #2, a great woman to chat with. I've been chatting with her slightly longer than the other. All told, about 2 weeks or so. But when I prodded about meeting, and going out, nothing came of it. She, too has been incommunicado for the last 3-4 days. For someone who genuinely seemed to like me, the avoidance is irritating. I know people get busy, but like Woman #1, I ask a similar question: "how hard is it to fire off an e-mail?". Sheesh. She knows I'm interested in her, she knows I want to meet her. I feel kind of stuck in this limbo, where I just don't know where I stand with her. She has the power and the clarity or my position, while I've got Jack Shit concerning hers. I just realized how wishy-washy that stance is. I would've been better off not having spoken to her in the first place.
Because of emotional investment nursed along by women who extended the courting process, I'm left angry, frustrated and hurt. I can accept some of the blame, as I foolishly let myself develop an attachment. Actually, it's not "attachment", it's "expectation". I expected them to value me the same way I valued them. And that scenario never turns out well for me. Ever.
If things went quickly, we chatted, made arrangements to meet, and got it over with (for good or bad), I would least have my peace of mind.
Unlike now.
*sigh*
I've learned a harsh lesson. I've been courting a few women online, off the Plenty of Fish website (and again, I'm not linking it).
Yes, I caved. Yes, I feel kind of ashamed about it. I'm lonely, sue me.
The lesson is based on a certain realization I had concerning the "rules of engagement" while attempting to connect online. The new rule was to "move fast, strike hard, close the deal". That is to say chat quick, be concise, go out. Why? Because whenever you chat online (or phone, or even in person) for a prolongued period of time with a woman, the more protracted the courting is, the greater the chance that things will go wrong. Either you, or she, will say something or do something wrong. Emotions become involved, attachments formed, and then when something finally does go wrong, people get hurt. Like myself, for instance. I've broken the rule on a few occasions recently. And here are the results.
Both this Wednesday, and Saturday, I had a tentative plan (mutually-agreed) to go out with a particular woman. Said woman hasn't contacted me since Tuesday. Never followed up on said plans, and has been unresponsive to the single e-mail I sent her. Maybe there's been a personal emergency, maybe not. But how hard is it to shoot someone an e-mail? I should also mention, she has my phone number, too. So I'm left frustrated and hurt, and with no sense of closure. I have no idea what the Hell happened.
Woman #2, a great woman to chat with. I've been chatting with her slightly longer than the other. All told, about 2 weeks or so. But when I prodded about meeting, and going out, nothing came of it. She, too has been incommunicado for the last 3-4 days. For someone who genuinely seemed to like me, the avoidance is irritating. I know people get busy, but like Woman #1, I ask a similar question: "how hard is it to fire off an e-mail?". Sheesh. She knows I'm interested in her, she knows I want to meet her. I feel kind of stuck in this limbo, where I just don't know where I stand with her. She has the power and the clarity or my position, while I've got Jack Shit concerning hers. I just realized how wishy-washy that stance is. I would've been better off not having spoken to her in the first place.
Because of emotional investment nursed along by women who extended the courting process, I'm left angry, frustrated and hurt. I can accept some of the blame, as I foolishly let myself develop an attachment. Actually, it's not "attachment", it's "expectation". I expected them to value me the same way I valued them. And that scenario never turns out well for me. Ever.
If things went quickly, we chatted, made arrangements to meet, and got it over with (for good or bad), I would least have my peace of mind.
Unlike now.
*sigh*
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Sweet dreams are made of these...
As general rule, I don't dream. And when I do, they're somewhat prophetic. Odd little snippets of the future that are hard to interpret, up until I catch up with the moments portrayed in my dream. It's one of many, many weird things about me.
Meh.
As a child, teen, and young adult, I remember dreaming frequently. I even used to have a recurring dream. It was an extremely vivid dream. The kind of dream that has every detail punched-up. Colors were extreme, as were sounds, voices, etc.. I suppose I'd go so far as to say that it was hyper-real. A real hi-def, better-than-Blu-ray experience.
The dream, itself, is a bit hard to describe. Waxing metaphorically, it felt like love. Which is, of course, what the dream was about. I dreamt of falling in love and being loved. Not the kind we see in movies, read about in magazines, or in romance novels. Definitely not the kind I've experienced in what passes for my life. If love could be purified, boiled-down, concentrated, laced with something potent, and multiplied by a factor of a million. That's what I felt in these dreams. The uber-cocaine of love.
I can still remember the golden hair, heart-shaped face, the blue eyes, and the cadence of her voice. I can even remember the touch of her fingertips. She was almost too beautiful to look at. Glowing bright, like staring at the sun.
I can also remember the soul-crushing sadness at waking up from these dreams. The dreams were so bright, the feelings so pure and positive, that when I awoke, I would feel as if my psyche was t-boned by a fully-loaded semi-truck doing 100 MPH. It was jarring. And not to be melodramatic, but I would literally break down and weep at the realization that it was only a dream. To wake up to the world I know, as opposed to the world I had, even as a dream. Whenever I hear the Cure's "Just Like Heaven" (one of my favorite songs), I think of these dreams.
I miss them.
I think at this point in my life, I don't so much sleep, as fall insensate from exhaustion. I think that after having those dreams for so long, on some level I just decided to stop having them. They were too...traumatizing. But with the current state of my life right now, I really would like to wrap myself up in one of those dreams again.
Meh.
As a child, teen, and young adult, I remember dreaming frequently. I even used to have a recurring dream. It was an extremely vivid dream. The kind of dream that has every detail punched-up. Colors were extreme, as were sounds, voices, etc.. I suppose I'd go so far as to say that it was hyper-real. A real hi-def, better-than-Blu-ray experience.
The dream, itself, is a bit hard to describe. Waxing metaphorically, it felt like love. Which is, of course, what the dream was about. I dreamt of falling in love and being loved. Not the kind we see in movies, read about in magazines, or in romance novels. Definitely not the kind I've experienced in what passes for my life. If love could be purified, boiled-down, concentrated, laced with something potent, and multiplied by a factor of a million. That's what I felt in these dreams. The uber-cocaine of love.
I can still remember the golden hair, heart-shaped face, the blue eyes, and the cadence of her voice. I can even remember the touch of her fingertips. She was almost too beautiful to look at. Glowing bright, like staring at the sun.
I can also remember the soul-crushing sadness at waking up from these dreams. The dreams were so bright, the feelings so pure and positive, that when I awoke, I would feel as if my psyche was t-boned by a fully-loaded semi-truck doing 100 MPH. It was jarring. And not to be melodramatic, but I would literally break down and weep at the realization that it was only a dream. To wake up to the world I know, as opposed to the world I had, even as a dream. Whenever I hear the Cure's "Just Like Heaven" (one of my favorite songs), I think of these dreams.
I miss them.
I think at this point in my life, I don't so much sleep, as fall insensate from exhaustion. I think that after having those dreams for so long, on some level I just decided to stop having them. They were too...traumatizing. But with the current state of my life right now, I really would like to wrap myself up in one of those dreams again.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
(Un)Righteous Indignation...
This last week has been, as with ANY week, kind of peculiar. As I'm getting ready to move at the end of this month (to a bigger, better place), my landlords showed my apartment. I didn't think I'd be terribly bothered by this, but I was. The landlords gave me a days notice, which was nice. But the really annoying issue was the fact that the time they listed were 9AM-6PM. Pretty standard stuff, I suppose. It wouldn't have been so bad, had I been able to sleep the previous night, and hadn't had that day off. So I basically made it a point to set my alarm for 9AM, whether I got sleep or not, and waited. AND waited. And waited some more. Until about 5:30PM. When a 20-something couple came a-knockin', with Resident manager in tow.
Now I'm only vaguely aware of Norman Rockwell and his paintings, other than they're considered to be, by many, anthemic images of their times. So much so, that a great many consider them to be perfect examples of Americana. The couple that walked into my apartment, that evening, looked like they stepped out of Rockwell painting. I kid you not.
And I hated them immediately.
They were generically attractive, in their mid-to-late-20's, dressed well, and polite. Add to that, friendly, curious, and more than a little enthusiastic. To see a couple like this, happy, and ready to move on with their lives with positivity, literally made me want to stove their heads in. Thank God I'm good at suppressing those impulses, or I'd have ended up on the 11 o'clock news.
They had a look around, and the Manager commented to me that she was surprised at how well I took care of my apartment. I wasn't sure if I should take that as a compliment or not. By the time they all left 15 minutes later, I was literally shaking with a combination of anger, indignation, and jealousy. What a combo. I was left feeling miserable for the remainder of the night.
I know exactly why I felt as I did. Ultimately, I was jealous, I felt I was more deserving of what real, or imagined, things they had. I want that happy relationship. I want that sense of accomplishment. I want that feeling like things are moving on to better things. I want that positive feeling.
I just have no idea how to get any of that.
Yesterday, I finally got all of the ex's junk out of the apartment. I thought things would be more awkward between us than they were. She was friendly, chit-chatted with me. Told me a bunch of things I really didn't care too much to hear about. And I tried to keep things simple, and not share too much of what I was thinking or feeling. I didn't want to start anything, basically. When her sister showed up, along with a friend with a trailer to help move the larger stuff, I was in for a treat. True to form, "Sisterzilla" (as good a name as any, to refer to her as) did more complaining, pouting, whining, bitching, than any actual moving. And in about an hour-and-a-half, things were organized, packed, and incrementally taken out and moved. Ex is now fully, and completely gone.
Fun times.
NOT!
Now I'm only vaguely aware of Norman Rockwell and his paintings, other than they're considered to be, by many, anthemic images of their times. So much so, that a great many consider them to be perfect examples of Americana. The couple that walked into my apartment, that evening, looked like they stepped out of Rockwell painting. I kid you not.
And I hated them immediately.
They were generically attractive, in their mid-to-late-20's, dressed well, and polite. Add to that, friendly, curious, and more than a little enthusiastic. To see a couple like this, happy, and ready to move on with their lives with positivity, literally made me want to stove their heads in. Thank God I'm good at suppressing those impulses, or I'd have ended up on the 11 o'clock news.
They had a look around, and the Manager commented to me that she was surprised at how well I took care of my apartment. I wasn't sure if I should take that as a compliment or not. By the time they all left 15 minutes later, I was literally shaking with a combination of anger, indignation, and jealousy. What a combo. I was left feeling miserable for the remainder of the night.
I know exactly why I felt as I did. Ultimately, I was jealous, I felt I was more deserving of what real, or imagined, things they had. I want that happy relationship. I want that sense of accomplishment. I want that feeling like things are moving on to better things. I want that positive feeling.
I just have no idea how to get any of that.
Yesterday, I finally got all of the ex's junk out of the apartment. I thought things would be more awkward between us than they were. She was friendly, chit-chatted with me. Told me a bunch of things I really didn't care too much to hear about. And I tried to keep things simple, and not share too much of what I was thinking or feeling. I didn't want to start anything, basically. When her sister showed up, along with a friend with a trailer to help move the larger stuff, I was in for a treat. True to form, "Sisterzilla" (as good a name as any, to refer to her as) did more complaining, pouting, whining, bitching, than any actual moving. And in about an hour-and-a-half, things were organized, packed, and incrementally taken out and moved. Ex is now fully, and completely gone.
Fun times.
NOT!
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Years...erm...stuff?
I was contemplating writing something along the lines of "Crappy New Year", but decided against it. After all, it's just the first day of the new year, maybe it's a tad too early to tell. Not getting a good vibe from it, though. I never do.
I suppose I'll just roll with a "week-in-review"-type scenario. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Since Christmas day, thankfully the intercom music at work has returned to the normal, non-denominations, non-provoking, lull-you-into-a-coma, easy-listening style. My first day back after Christmas, the first song I heard while I was getting ready was "Betty Davis Eyes" by Kim Carnes. For a moment I thought I was going to cut myself falling out of my time machine, having travelled back to 1981. It's funny, though, I actually like the song. I just didn't expect to be hearing it at that moment. I will say one thing, whomever is responsible for the music now, is less of an ass than whomever it was before. The music, overall, sucks about 35% less. Maybe that's my Christmas present from work.
Last night I spent with my soon-to-be roomies. We had some dinner and spent the night playing Wii Sports (golf) and Rock Band. You know you're a little drunk when the "booOOO!" and "BOOoo!" sounds from the Wii Golf menus make you laugh hysterically. Even after we stopped playing, some of us were still randomly making the menu noise, and loving every minute of it.
When I finally got home, sobered some, and curled up with a movie, I felt that familiar malaise set in.
Maybe stuff will be more exciting when I finally move in with all of 'em. Just got to tough out this month.
I suppose I'll just roll with a "week-in-review"-type scenario. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Since Christmas day, thankfully the intercom music at work has returned to the normal, non-denominations, non-provoking, lull-you-into-a-coma, easy-listening style. My first day back after Christmas, the first song I heard while I was getting ready was "Betty Davis Eyes" by Kim Carnes. For a moment I thought I was going to cut myself falling out of my time machine, having travelled back to 1981. It's funny, though, I actually like the song. I just didn't expect to be hearing it at that moment. I will say one thing, whomever is responsible for the music now, is less of an ass than whomever it was before. The music, overall, sucks about 35% less. Maybe that's my Christmas present from work.
Last night I spent with my soon-to-be roomies. We had some dinner and spent the night playing Wii Sports (golf) and Rock Band. You know you're a little drunk when the "booOOO!" and "BOOoo!" sounds from the Wii Golf menus make you laugh hysterically. Even after we stopped playing, some of us were still randomly making the menu noise, and loving every minute of it.
When I finally got home, sobered some, and curled up with a movie, I felt that familiar malaise set in.
Maybe stuff will be more exciting when I finally move in with all of 'em. Just got to tough out this month.
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