I'm getting really tired of privacy issues on the internet. Being in a position where I may one day be working with minors I hear a great deal of conflicting instructions, but the one I am going to talk about is the issue of being somebody.
We talk a lot in the Education Department about being a person, being relatable, being careful, being conservative, being experimental, being professional, being ourselves, and so on. So, where does that put me? Am I supposed to be careful of every little thing that I post on the internet? I haven't got any posts of illegal drug use, pornography, hate crimes (at least I don't think my "People I Hate" segments are considered hate crimes) or illegal activity (someone took down the picture of us walking left out of a parking lot that had a Right Turn Only sign), so what's the big deal? Sure, I drink and I swear and I make the occasional wild accusation, but the people that don't do that kind of stuff are the people who hide the fact that they do. So, should I join the conservatives and the cowards and try and erase my existence on the internet? I have two problems with that.
1) I'm not that good at the internet. It'd be like trying to clean up an oil spill with my bare hands.
2) Fuck that!
Why should I spend the time and effort to make myself digitally invisible? Why should the only information be an e-portfolio? Should I make all of my friends and colleagues sign confidentiality agreements before I act like myself? If we're going to let our potential employers dictate how we act, then we let them dictate who we are. And if we all tried to present ourselves as hard working, innovative, creative, involved cardboard cutouts, then future employers will just have to dig deeper to find out who you really are.
Many of you may already know my opinions on public and even private surveillance, but for those of you who don't, here's the truth: we all do things we wouldn't want other people to see. We all do things that we think separate us from everyone else. But, when everyone is doing something wrong, who's to say that it is wrong? If we were all seen as ourselves, then all the 'unacceptable' things that we do would be entirely normal.
So wouldn't it be great if we all let ourselves be who we are? What are our future employers going to do? Not hire anyone? The problem is, "I am Sparticus" doesn't work in this case when some people don't participate. Those people are fake. But maybe that's what you have to do to play the game.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Dear Blog
I haven't been around much and I can explain. Holy shit balls, things are going well. I am employed, I have an amazing girl, I'm putting figurative miles between me and the past (even when the past came literally right to me). My friends are still awesome, the summer is going to be awesome, the next semester should be all right (Advanced Fiction Writing class, application only).
But a situation is only as good as its analogy, and for this one, I think I'm flying. Up and up and up. It's exhilarating, exciting, exuberant... I'm out of 'ex' words, but it's awesome. And even though I know everything has got to stall and come crashing down in a horrible flaming wreck of misery, I'm still excited.
I think the best way to explain it is not with my words, but with Freddy Mercury.
But a situation is only as good as its analogy, and for this one, I think I'm flying. Up and up and up. It's exhilarating, exciting, exuberant... I'm out of 'ex' words, but it's awesome. And even though I know everything has got to stall and come crashing down in a horrible flaming wreck of misery, I'm still excited.
I think the best way to explain it is not with my words, but with Freddy Mercury.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The Unblogged
The following post is a collection of posts that I didn't post, or simply gave up on before they got anywhere. I find it interesting what some of my old thoughts and feelings were, as well as entertaining to imagine my half thoughts.
If you hadn't picked up, the new notes will be brought to you by the colour RED.
1/20/10 Scientific Exhaustion
I was going to continue a discussion on my Facebook page,
BO-ring!
12/19/09 When Did It Happen?
I've stopped being honest.
I'm not sure, but I think this may have been about hiding (or trying to hide) my feelings for someone. Kinda like a Humphrey Bogart at the end of Casablanca kind of deal, only, you know, not as good.
10/25/09 (Untitled)
I fight such an odd war. I have nothing against my enemy, but I know that he hates me. He even seems like a decent enough guy. It's not political, I want to destroy him and it is most malicious. Maybe it's the testosterone, but I'm not usually a guy who feels the need to win. I can't tell you what it is. What I can tell you is that I like it. I love it. Even though I'm terrible at it.
I don't know about anyone else, but I fucking love being hated sometimes. In my old situation, being hated was the next best thing to being loved. Being a threat to someone is empowering.
But that is an underdog thing too. When you're at the top, you're not a threat to anyone. In an ironic sense, you lose that power.
10/20/09 My Ultimate Team
Skip this one if you want. It's exactly what it sounds like.
In response to TK's Ultimate Team blog, here is my Ultimate Alliance 2 Team:
Storm.
What can I say about the master of the elements? Her in game taunts are the most justified of anyone. She controls the weather itself. She defeated Magneto. She is through and through awesome. I'll admit that when I started I was wary of Storm, since in UA1 she refused to use her one good power of Lightning Blast. But in UA2, her Lightning Blast is unparallelled and her Gale Force is the first and best of its class. The ability to dismissively blast an oncoming troop of enemies off a ledge is nothing short of god-like. While the rest of my crew is busy hacking away at single targets, Storm is blasting small armies away and causing massive random lightning damage all over the field. Inescapable lightning damage, too. It cannot be blocked and it cannot be dodged.
Wolverine.
Begrudgingly. There is a reason this guy is such a cliche. He's a-goddamn-mazing. Massive damage, massive hit points, regeneration, and a good spread of attacks. Some characters I find have a tendency to have just one good move and the others are simply there for show. He spins, he charges, he dives, he slashes... things wind up dead. I have the damage numbers on and when Wolverine comes in contact with someone there is just a stream of numbers. I wanted to trade him in, and he was usually on the bench while I was trying other guys out, but when it comes to an Ultimate Team, you'd be crazy not to bring in this cat... dog... monster-thing. What the hell is a wolverine anyway?
Venom.
He didn't get added to the roster until late in the game, but jesus tits this guy is a monster. Like, literally. In every sense of the word. Here is a case of someone who was pretty much a one trick pony, with other skills to fill the skill points out. He has this move where he leaps at someone, tackles them, and then devours them. For the little guys, Venom is unstoppable! Combined with his Pull move, if the first attack doesn't kill the guy, the second surely will. A big sack of hit points that can beat people to death with other people. Venom has always been pretty awesome.
Other.
There are honestly too many people that could fit into this last spot. Spidey was fun, but not great at anything. Ms. Marvel was hot, but I don't know who the fuck she is. Gambit was classic, but he never wowed me. I honestly never tried Deadpool, but that guy comes off as a more obnoxious Spider-man. Luke Cage was on my team for a while for racial diversity. He was okay. Ironman was denied from my team, so when I got him back I thought he could go suck a dick. Jean Grey was wicked powerful, but awfully dainty. Honestly, I never became that attached to anyone. I got Hulk late, and he was doing well, but he didn't seem to be pulling his weight. I wanted him to devastate people.
Anyway, I'm going to play it a second time around on hard and go Pro-Regulation. Maybe Ironman will grow on me again, but I somehow doubt it.
10/15/09 Contending the Winter of Discontent
I'm trying to work out the logical cycle of the miserability scores of the winter. The last two years have been horrible cold, but
Did winter get better this year? Depends where you start and finish winter. This post was obviously in mid-October and winter didn't technically start for another two months. If it's based on the weather, then winter was over by the beginning of March, and even then things started looking up. But maybe that's just the thing: cold = suck.
5/25/09 Recess
So I was at a party the other night to substantially increase the man count of the evening. Little did I know I was to increase the man count by an infinite percentage. First, let me drop some knowledge on you. Being the only guy in a group full of girls is only beneficial when these girls are deprived and competing over, or better yet, considering sharing you. However, even if you arrived before many of the women, you are on the outside
Ha ha! I can't even tell you where I was for this, but I'm sure it was entertaining! I have a feeling I was in Lethbridge.
4/4/09 My goals
#1 Outlive Thom.
#2 Failing Goal 1, outlive wife so I don't have to tell people
What don't I have to tell people? I don't know. I'm too busy laughing at goal #1!
4/3/09 Secrecy
I find it funny that despite all the honest feelings we can express to each other there is always a level we feel the need to hide. There are always things we don't want to say because we're worried what the other person will think. Worse, sometimes we worry what the other person will do. More often than not, I think we're wrong. I think people are a lot more calm and reasonable than we give them credit for.
But despite all that logic, I still can't bring myself to explain the truth. I don't even know how to say it. I can make a lot of fuss about things that don't really matter, but when it comes to the important things... I don't know how to say them. I tried to once and it blew up in my face. I suppose wildly bitching to the internet hasn't been productive either.
Seriously. But I still do it. What's the deal with that?
I suppose what I need to say is that I'm sorry. My feelings were misdirected and my action was out of line. I know this is an open place, and that doesn't bother me. But if I'm going to be open, I need to be open.
So, here it goes.
Dear Blog,
I've fallen in love.
At least to the point that I understood love a year ago. And the irony kills me that a year ago I could only understand that level of love and it might have happened, and now I can see the infinite ocean of emotion that I hadn't yet reached. But at this ledge I am stopped. I am unable to explore. And maybe that's for the best. Maybe if I were to explore, I would soon run out of air (or maybe vice versa) and would have to resurface. Getting dumped out of the ocean is one thing, but the bends is another. Maybe diving in and exploring this is a bad idea. But I see something in the depths. I feel it. How can I ignore it? How can I stay here and never go? I could go to the reef. Reefs are safe; stable. But how can I ever forget those endless depths of the unknown? Even if I had to come back, why couldn't I try? Why couldn't we try?
This right here is why I never posted this. What the fuck am I talking about? That metaphor is constructed worse than slip n' slide built with bristle blocks. It is literally painful to read.
Blog, I'll cut the metaphor for a minute here. Thank God. I want to try this out. Even if it's built to break, even though there are so many signs that say we shouldn't, even though I've done so much to damage it... I want to try. And if I experience a whole new level of heartache, then I have experienced a whole new level of love. I know all the pain I've been through, and I remember it all as I bring those memories back. And all of that heartache, all of those tears and all that regret combined is worth a shot at this.
Wisdom, if I do say so myself.
...
If I'm being honest with you, I wonder now if I've placed her on a pedestal. I've ignored anything with her picture because she is too fucking beautiful. I sometimes think I might be the only one that really sees that. I mean really sees it. I can't even describe the feeling. It's like I want to... absorb her. I don't know, that's really all I can think of. Like I want to hold her so close that we occupy the same space to a scientifically impossible degree, as if our images overlapped. Is it all in my head, or is it all in my heart? I don't know. I wish I knew. I wish I didn't regret running away as much as I have. I wish the conviction I felt once hadn't been so terribly battered. I'm breaking down.
I don't know if I'm making sense. I don't know about you, but I'm following along. I guess I wrote it, though. I'm starting to get the bed ("bad". Though I imagine I was having bed feelings at this point too) feeling that this whole post is a mistake. But I'm going to push through it because I think there has been a lack of communication. And yes, I should say a lot of ("to") this in person. But, like I said, I'm scared. So much for pushing through and communicating. A coward to the end, I suppose.
...I'm trying to be interested in other people. It's a hard thing to say and I don't know why. I guess it goes back to worrying what people will do; how they'll react. I think a lot of the time, I promise feelings that I can't deliver in circumstantial situations. "We'll always be friends" is the biggest one, I think. It's not that the prospect of being together was the only thing holding us together, but sometimes things change and there is no overlooking it. I can't dissolve my feelings. I need to escape and dispose of them. I've got to get away. But it's so hard when I want to stay. Fuck you, old me! I'm doing it.
I didn't really get to say everything I wanted, but my head is killing me.
This is why it's good not only to keep a record of what you think, feel, and do, but also to go back and read it once in a while. If you take anything from this whole thing, take this piece of advice: go back and look it all over. Revisit your thoughts. The insight you gain about yourself is incredible. Everything changes when you take a trip back to visit who you were. I've been known to say it before, but I don't like me 5 years ago. 5 years from now Alex won't like Today Alex, even though Today Alex is fuckin' awesome. I'm sure even 6-months-from-now- Alex won't really be fond of Today Alex, but what can you do?
Learn.
3/13/09 Post it
(I'm trying this quick summary thing. Read this; get the jist. Read on for more info. I don't know whether this girl likes me back or not.) Semi- spoiler! I don't know who I'm talking about yet, but I bet she doesn't!
I have a note on the side of my computer that reads "Keep it to your goddamn self!"
I don't know why she troubles me the way that she does. It has got to be in my head. So, here I write to the abyss of the internet. Remember you're reading my blog. I'm not complaining to you. Aha! A loophole! Stuff it, Thom!
Is it bad that I can't tell if I'm the hero or the villain in my own story? I suppose good or bad is the same as right and wrong; good and evil. These are the things I cannot determine. Am I the heart of the righteous stuck in the body of the wicked, or the malevolent soul presented in a body of innocence? I want to do good, but am I the good that resists the temptation of evil, or am I the evil that seeks redemption? Is my destiny to be all the good which I wish to be, or is it to lay ruin to the supposed goodness I have created?
I really write like this sometimes, not a word of a lie. I just normally don't show anyone. There's a fucking reason for that. These longwinded posts are embarrassing bullshit!
Let me explain. I pride myself in goodness. I am fulfilled by doing what I think to be right, even if it is not the easiest route. But there has been a record so far of 100% violation of supposition among past lovers. Whether this be violation of ideas of fidelity, temperament, deceit, opportunism, or abandonment, there is always an aspect that appears in a relationship, or post relationship, that serves no purpose greater than destruction. Simply put, I hurt the ones I have loved and cared for.
Enter the girl. Yes, the girl. I would be remiss in believing that this girl is the end-all be-all of womankind purely by nature of her virtues - there are many thing that are simply incongruent among us - but somehow she attains the position in my mind of the girl ("the" should be in italics). And perhaps is something that I will talk about later. But for now, I ponder, does not the woman that corrupts man cancel the man that corrupts love?
Perhaps it is the man that corrupts woman? Very well. To an extent, I am that man. Should not then we two form a unison of which none more is perfect? I fear not.
I apologize. In my state I confuse eloquence with verbiage. Yeah, no shit, you pretentious wanker! What the fuck are you trying to say. Jesus Christ, this is the worst thing ever...
Why aren't things working? Why aren't we together? We want what we cannot have. Perhaps, by making up my mind on the course of action to take, I am no longer available. Perhaps I project this emotion more than I am aware. I know in my mind that it is impossible, and purely by virtue of impossibility is it something which I desire? Do I want what I cannot have because I have concluded that I cannot have it? Perhaps, though I did want it before I reached such conclusion. Is she so observant, though, that she perceives my decision and thus has become attracted to that which I have decided she cannot have? Perhaps. Now, supposing that both of these are true, am I not free to retract my previous conclusion and thus formally admit that my conclusion was invalid and that we two must be together?
I think I was in a philosophy class at the time, and they all write like this. Maybe I could make sense of it then, but I sure can't pull it apart now. Maybe philosophers need to stop being philosophers for a few months before they review their own work. It's like living in France for a few months and coming back to America and ordering jus d'orange. It's orange juice, motherfucker, and you're not cultured, you're a fucking idiot.
Yeah, it confuses me sometimes too. Here it is: if I gave up and the girl now likes me because I am unavailable, can I really just say, "hey, I'm all yours!" and things will work out dandy because she likes me? See? That's concise. I get that. I know what I'm talking about here.
They won't. She won't. The feelings are contingent. There is only one course to take.
I really should keep it to myself.
Okay, I was wrong. The girl may have liked me at the time. Although, that was a full year ago! That's incredible. Maybe I was right then. Maybe she didn't like me a year ago. A year is a longer time than I give it credit. It doesn't feel that long looking back, but it really is a long time. I could go on about "what ifs" and muse about the possibilities of what could have been, but that'd end up sounding like all the garbage I wrote a year ago! So here is my conclusion: I made my choices.
These next ones are over a year old, but they were in my "draft" folder, so what the hell!
1/28/09 Proof that Women are greater than Men
A lot of people on both sides of the gender spectrum (oh, it totally is a spectrum) believe that men are better than women. But I have proof that this is not the case.
All women carry our future sons their entire lives.
All men are born of women.
It takes the defiance of many men for a boy to become a man, yet only the love of a single woman.
Through hail of bullets and rain of bombs, between polished swords and sharpened spears, under thrown rocks and over the pitched fires of men a man can resist, but the absence of a woman can leave a man destroyed.
Oh how poetical... shit. To put it another way: women are man's only weakness.
1/23/09 Inequality
Men an women are different. I don't care what you say, but they are. There is a reason why boys like practical academics and girls like visual aesthetics (not that one does not grow to appreciate the other).
Men were made by scientists and women were made by artists.
This is where I wrote a little play about the creation of man and woman.
Genitus: Hurry up, everybody! The deadline's here and God needs these last bits!
Enter Penus.
Genitus: Ah! Penus. What do you have for us?
Penus: Check this out.
Penus whips out the first wang.
Penus: I call it The Penus!
Genitus: Wow, that's... something.
Penus: No, check this out!
The Penus erects.
Penus: Eh? Eh?! Totally involuntary! No bones or nothing.
Genitus: Ha! That is totally awesome! God's gonna be stoked!
Penus: I know, eh?
Penus plays with his newest invention.
Genitus: "The Penis," right?
Genitus scribbles on his clipboard.
Genitus: ...N, I, S.
Penus looks up from the willie.
Penus: Hmm?
Genitus: So, how does it work.
Penus: That's the best part. I was working with Testiclulus on this one. It shoots stuff. Testucles
Enter Testucles, slightly out of breath.
Testucles: Sorry, boss. Here it is.
Testucles holds up a pair of testicles.
Genitus: I don't follow.
Testucles: They're like mini factories. They make these little tiny cells with tails that can swim.
Genitus: Can I see?
Testucles: Just be careful. They're a little delicate.
Genitus: How delicate?
Testucles: Well, it's a complicated system. They're really sensitive and need to be kept at about 33 degrees.
Genitus checks his clipboard.
Genitus: Not 37 degrees?
Testucles: No.
Genitus: So what the hell are we going to do about that?
Testucles: I got it all planned out. We keep 'em in a bag.
Genitus: In a bag?! They're going to lose them!
Testucles: No, like a skin bag.
Genitus: A skin bag? Testucles, we can't afford that much material.
Enter Scrotus hurriedly.
Scrotus: Master! Master! I found something!
Scrotus hands Testucles fistfulls of skin.
Scrotus: They're elbow skin that God was just throwing away!
Testucles: That explains all the hair.
Penus hits Testucles with The Penus.
Penus: I thought we agreed on no hair!
Testucles: I'm sorry! Look, it's the best we can do.
Genitus: I'll let you sort that out for a minute while I check the design for Woman.
Penus, Testucles, and Scrotus huddle together.
Enter Vagino and Ovariam.
Genitus: Vagino! Ovarium! What do you have for us?
Vagino: Genitus, I say with no ego that this is our greatest creation. It's hidden, protected, sleek, soft, runs like clockwork, never needs replacing.
Genitus: Impressive! How does it work?
Ovariam: So, I've got these two little balls-
Genitus slaps his face into his palm.
Genitus: Calibrated to 33 degrees?
Ovariam: No. 37. Who calibrated to 33?
Genitus looks over his shouler at Penus, Testucles, and Scrotum.
Testucles: -no, no, you've got to pin it here!
Genitus turns back to Vagino and Ovariam.
Genitus: Doesn't matter.
Vagino looks over.
Vagino: What are they doing?
Genitus: Please, continue.
Ovariam: Right. So I have these balls. We can call the ovaries to avoid confusion. Anyway, so they are filled with, like, thousands and thousands of eggs-
Genitus: And the woman simply releases an egg when she wants to bear a child! Brilliant!
Pause.
Ovariam: We were thinking more of a timed release.
Genitus: So, they just sort of leak eggs from time to time?
Awkward pause.
Ovariam: You could say that.
Genitus: What happens?
Ovariam: Well, it's more than just an egg. But don't worry. We've devised a hormonal mechanism to keep it hidden.
Genitus: All right, I'll trust you know what you're doing. So, the egg comes out and then the man shoots Testucles' swimming cells onto it and it makes a baby, right?
Ovariam: Well, no. The baby has to grow inside here in this big chamber.
Genitus stares.
Genitus: And then...
Ovariam: Then you have a baby.
Genitus: How does the baby get out?
Ovariam and Vagino exchange looks.
Vagino: Ohhhhh no. No no no no no. No way. This is a masterpiece!
Ovariam (lowered voice): Vag, you're making me look bad.
Vagino: Ovariam, you make yourself look bad. We're not cramming a baby through my Vagina.
Ovariam: It's too late to change everything. C'mon, Vagino. It's the only way!
Vagino (sighs): Fine.
Genitus: Great! I've got to write up a report for God right now. Feel free to share your project with the other.
Genitus exits.
The huddled group of Penus, Testucles, and Scrotus opens up to reveal their package.
Penus: Ta-dah!
Vagino: eugh.
Next week: Gentius tries to explain to God how these parts are used to make new people.
I'm not thrilled with Ovariam and Vagino. They're not quite as entertaining as the stooges that are Penus, Testucles and Scrotus. Also, I'm more of an expert on the poor design of male genitalia than I am with regards to how women feel about their genitals. I don't know if anyone else finds it as funny as I do, but come on, a man's junk is the most poorly designed part of nature on a whole.
Hooray! You either read everything or scrolled to the bottom and said "Fuck that!"
Either way, thanks for getting to this point!
If you hadn't picked up, the new notes will be brought to you by the colour RED.
1/20/10 Scientific Exhaustion
I was going to continue a discussion on my Facebook page,
BO-ring!
12/19/09 When Did It Happen?
I've stopped being honest.
I'm not sure, but I think this may have been about hiding (or trying to hide) my feelings for someone. Kinda like a Humphrey Bogart at the end of Casablanca kind of deal, only, you know, not as good.
10/25/09 (Untitled)
I fight such an odd war. I have nothing against my enemy, but I know that he hates me. He even seems like a decent enough guy. It's not political, I want to destroy him and it is most malicious. Maybe it's the testosterone, but I'm not usually a guy who feels the need to win. I can't tell you what it is. What I can tell you is that I like it. I love it. Even though I'm terrible at it.
I don't know about anyone else, but I fucking love being hated sometimes. In my old situation, being hated was the next best thing to being loved. Being a threat to someone is empowering.
But that is an underdog thing too. When you're at the top, you're not a threat to anyone. In an ironic sense, you lose that power.
10/20/09 My Ultimate Team
Skip this one if you want. It's exactly what it sounds like.
In response to TK's Ultimate Team blog, here is my Ultimate Alliance 2 Team:
Storm.
What can I say about the master of the elements? Her in game taunts are the most justified of anyone. She controls the weather itself. She defeated Magneto. She is through and through awesome. I'll admit that when I started I was wary of Storm, since in UA1 she refused to use her one good power of Lightning Blast. But in UA2, her Lightning Blast is unparallelled and her Gale Force is the first and best of its class. The ability to dismissively blast an oncoming troop of enemies off a ledge is nothing short of god-like. While the rest of my crew is busy hacking away at single targets, Storm is blasting small armies away and causing massive random lightning damage all over the field. Inescapable lightning damage, too. It cannot be blocked and it cannot be dodged.
Wolverine.
Begrudgingly. There is a reason this guy is such a cliche. He's a-goddamn-mazing. Massive damage, massive hit points, regeneration, and a good spread of attacks. Some characters I find have a tendency to have just one good move and the others are simply there for show. He spins, he charges, he dives, he slashes... things wind up dead. I have the damage numbers on and when Wolverine comes in contact with someone there is just a stream of numbers. I wanted to trade him in, and he was usually on the bench while I was trying other guys out, but when it comes to an Ultimate Team, you'd be crazy not to bring in this cat... dog... monster-thing. What the hell is a wolverine anyway?
Venom.
He didn't get added to the roster until late in the game, but jesus tits this guy is a monster. Like, literally. In every sense of the word. Here is a case of someone who was pretty much a one trick pony, with other skills to fill the skill points out. He has this move where he leaps at someone, tackles them, and then devours them. For the little guys, Venom is unstoppable! Combined with his Pull move, if the first attack doesn't kill the guy, the second surely will. A big sack of hit points that can beat people to death with other people. Venom has always been pretty awesome.
Other.
There are honestly too many people that could fit into this last spot. Spidey was fun, but not great at anything. Ms. Marvel was hot, but I don't know who the fuck she is. Gambit was classic, but he never wowed me. I honestly never tried Deadpool, but that guy comes off as a more obnoxious Spider-man. Luke Cage was on my team for a while for racial diversity. He was okay. Ironman was denied from my team, so when I got him back I thought he could go suck a dick. Jean Grey was wicked powerful, but awfully dainty. Honestly, I never became that attached to anyone. I got Hulk late, and he was doing well, but he didn't seem to be pulling his weight. I wanted him to devastate people.
Anyway, I'm going to play it a second time around on hard and go Pro-Regulation. Maybe Ironman will grow on me again, but I somehow doubt it.
10/15/09 Contending the Winter of Discontent
I'm trying to work out the logical cycle of the miserability scores of the winter. The last two years have been horrible cold, but
Did winter get better this year? Depends where you start and finish winter. This post was obviously in mid-October and winter didn't technically start for another two months. If it's based on the weather, then winter was over by the beginning of March, and even then things started looking up. But maybe that's just the thing: cold = suck.
5/25/09 Recess
So I was at a party the other night to substantially increase the man count of the evening. Little did I know I was to increase the man count by an infinite percentage. First, let me drop some knowledge on you. Being the only guy in a group full of girls is only beneficial when these girls are deprived and competing over, or better yet, considering sharing you. However, even if you arrived before many of the women, you are on the outside
Ha ha! I can't even tell you where I was for this, but I'm sure it was entertaining! I have a feeling I was in Lethbridge.
4/4/09 My goals
#1 Outlive Thom.
#2 Failing Goal 1, outlive wife so I don't have to tell people
What don't I have to tell people? I don't know. I'm too busy laughing at goal #1!
4/3/09 Secrecy
I find it funny that despite all the honest feelings we can express to each other there is always a level we feel the need to hide. There are always things we don't want to say because we're worried what the other person will think. Worse, sometimes we worry what the other person will do. More often than not, I think we're wrong. I think people are a lot more calm and reasonable than we give them credit for.
But despite all that logic, I still can't bring myself to explain the truth. I don't even know how to say it. I can make a lot of fuss about things that don't really matter, but when it comes to the important things... I don't know how to say them. I tried to once and it blew up in my face. I suppose wildly bitching to the internet hasn't been productive either.
Seriously. But I still do it. What's the deal with that?
I suppose what I need to say is that I'm sorry. My feelings were misdirected and my action was out of line. I know this is an open place, and that doesn't bother me. But if I'm going to be open, I need to be open.
So, here it goes.
Dear Blog,
I've fallen in love.
At least to the point that I understood love a year ago. And the irony kills me that a year ago I could only understand that level of love and it might have happened, and now I can see the infinite ocean of emotion that I hadn't yet reached. But at this ledge I am stopped. I am unable to explore. And maybe that's for the best. Maybe if I were to explore, I would soon run out of air (or maybe vice versa) and would have to resurface. Getting dumped out of the ocean is one thing, but the bends is another. Maybe diving in and exploring this is a bad idea. But I see something in the depths. I feel it. How can I ignore it? How can I stay here and never go? I could go to the reef. Reefs are safe; stable. But how can I ever forget those endless depths of the unknown? Even if I had to come back, why couldn't I try? Why couldn't we try?
This right here is why I never posted this. What the fuck am I talking about? That metaphor is constructed worse than slip n' slide built with bristle blocks. It is literally painful to read.
Blog, I'll cut the metaphor for a minute here. Thank God. I want to try this out. Even if it's built to break, even though there are so many signs that say we shouldn't, even though I've done so much to damage it... I want to try. And if I experience a whole new level of heartache, then I have experienced a whole new level of love. I know all the pain I've been through, and I remember it all as I bring those memories back. And all of that heartache, all of those tears and all that regret combined is worth a shot at this.
Wisdom, if I do say so myself.
...
If I'm being honest with you, I wonder now if I've placed her on a pedestal. I've ignored anything with her picture because she is too fucking beautiful. I sometimes think I might be the only one that really sees that. I mean really sees it. I can't even describe the feeling. It's like I want to... absorb her. I don't know, that's really all I can think of. Like I want to hold her so close that we occupy the same space to a scientifically impossible degree, as if our images overlapped. Is it all in my head, or is it all in my heart? I don't know. I wish I knew. I wish I didn't regret running away as much as I have. I wish the conviction I felt once hadn't been so terribly battered. I'm breaking down.
I don't know if I'm making sense. I don't know about you, but I'm following along. I guess I wrote it, though. I'm starting to get the bed ("bad". Though I imagine I was having bed feelings at this point too) feeling that this whole post is a mistake. But I'm going to push through it because I think there has been a lack of communication. And yes, I should say a lot of ("to") this in person. But, like I said, I'm scared. So much for pushing through and communicating. A coward to the end, I suppose.
...I'm trying to be interested in other people. It's a hard thing to say and I don't know why. I guess it goes back to worrying what people will do; how they'll react. I think a lot of the time, I promise feelings that I can't deliver in circumstantial situations. "We'll always be friends" is the biggest one, I think. It's not that the prospect of being together was the only thing holding us together, but sometimes things change and there is no overlooking it. I can't dissolve my feelings. I need to escape and dispose of them. I've got to get away. But it's so hard when I want to stay. Fuck you, old me! I'm doing it.
I didn't really get to say everything I wanted, but my head is killing me.
This is why it's good not only to keep a record of what you think, feel, and do, but also to go back and read it once in a while. If you take anything from this whole thing, take this piece of advice: go back and look it all over. Revisit your thoughts. The insight you gain about yourself is incredible. Everything changes when you take a trip back to visit who you were. I've been known to say it before, but I don't like me 5 years ago. 5 years from now Alex won't like Today Alex, even though Today Alex is fuckin' awesome. I'm sure even 6-months-from-now- Alex won't really be fond of Today Alex, but what can you do?
Learn.
3/13/09 Post it
(I'm trying this quick summary thing. Read this; get the jist. Read on for more info. I don't know whether this girl likes me back or not.) Semi- spoiler! I don't know who I'm talking about yet, but I bet she doesn't!
I have a note on the side of my computer that reads "Keep it to your goddamn self!"
I don't know why she troubles me the way that she does. It has got to be in my head. So, here I write to the abyss of the internet. Remember you're reading my blog. I'm not complaining to you. Aha! A loophole! Stuff it, Thom!
Is it bad that I can't tell if I'm the hero or the villain in my own story? I suppose good or bad is the same as right and wrong; good and evil. These are the things I cannot determine. Am I the heart of the righteous stuck in the body of the wicked, or the malevolent soul presented in a body of innocence? I want to do good, but am I the good that resists the temptation of evil, or am I the evil that seeks redemption? Is my destiny to be all the good which I wish to be, or is it to lay ruin to the supposed goodness I have created?
I really write like this sometimes, not a word of a lie. I just normally don't show anyone. There's a fucking reason for that. These longwinded posts are embarrassing bullshit!
Let me explain. I pride myself in goodness. I am fulfilled by doing what I think to be right, even if it is not the easiest route. But there has been a record so far of 100% violation of supposition among past lovers. Whether this be violation of ideas of fidelity, temperament, deceit, opportunism, or abandonment, there is always an aspect that appears in a relationship, or post relationship, that serves no purpose greater than destruction. Simply put, I hurt the ones I have loved and cared for.
Enter the girl. Yes, the girl. I would be remiss in believing that this girl is the end-all be-all of womankind purely by nature of her virtues - there are many thing that are simply incongruent among us - but somehow she attains the position in my mind of the girl ("the" should be in italics). And perhaps is something that I will talk about later. But for now, I ponder, does not the woman that corrupts man cancel the man that corrupts love?
Perhaps it is the man that corrupts woman? Very well. To an extent, I am that man. Should not then we two form a unison of which none more is perfect? I fear not.
I apologize. In my state I confuse eloquence with verbiage. Yeah, no shit, you pretentious wanker! What the fuck are you trying to say. Jesus Christ, this is the worst thing ever...
Why aren't things working? Why aren't we together? We want what we cannot have. Perhaps, by making up my mind on the course of action to take, I am no longer available. Perhaps I project this emotion more than I am aware. I know in my mind that it is impossible, and purely by virtue of impossibility is it something which I desire? Do I want what I cannot have because I have concluded that I cannot have it? Perhaps, though I did want it before I reached such conclusion. Is she so observant, though, that she perceives my decision and thus has become attracted to that which I have decided she cannot have? Perhaps. Now, supposing that both of these are true, am I not free to retract my previous conclusion and thus formally admit that my conclusion was invalid and that we two must be together?
I think I was in a philosophy class at the time, and they all write like this. Maybe I could make sense of it then, but I sure can't pull it apart now. Maybe philosophers need to stop being philosophers for a few months before they review their own work. It's like living in France for a few months and coming back to America and ordering jus d'orange. It's orange juice, motherfucker, and you're not cultured, you're a fucking idiot.
Yeah, it confuses me sometimes too. Here it is: if I gave up and the girl now likes me because I am unavailable, can I really just say, "hey, I'm all yours!" and things will work out dandy because she likes me? See? That's concise. I get that. I know what I'm talking about here.
They won't. She won't. The feelings are contingent. There is only one course to take.
I really should keep it to myself.
Okay, I was wrong. The girl may have liked me at the time. Although, that was a full year ago! That's incredible. Maybe I was right then. Maybe she didn't like me a year ago. A year is a longer time than I give it credit. It doesn't feel that long looking back, but it really is a long time. I could go on about "what ifs" and muse about the possibilities of what could have been, but that'd end up sounding like all the garbage I wrote a year ago! So here is my conclusion: I made my choices.
These next ones are over a year old, but they were in my "draft" folder, so what the hell!
1/28/09 Proof that Women are greater than Men
A lot of people on both sides of the gender spectrum (oh, it totally is a spectrum) believe that men are better than women. But I have proof that this is not the case.
All women carry our future sons their entire lives.
All men are born of women.
It takes the defiance of many men for a boy to become a man, yet only the love of a single woman.
Through hail of bullets and rain of bombs, between polished swords and sharpened spears, under thrown rocks and over the pitched fires of men a man can resist, but the absence of a woman can leave a man destroyed.
Oh how poetical... shit. To put it another way: women are man's only weakness.
1/23/09 Inequality
Men an women are different. I don't care what you say, but they are. There is a reason why boys like practical academics and girls like visual aesthetics (not that one does not grow to appreciate the other).
Men were made by scientists and women were made by artists.
This is where I wrote a little play about the creation of man and woman.
Genitus: Hurry up, everybody! The deadline's here and God needs these last bits!
Enter Penus.
Genitus: Ah! Penus. What do you have for us?
Penus: Check this out.
Penus whips out the first wang.
Penus: I call it The Penus!
Genitus: Wow, that's... something.
Penus: No, check this out!
The Penus erects.
Penus: Eh? Eh?! Totally involuntary! No bones or nothing.
Genitus: Ha! That is totally awesome! God's gonna be stoked!
Penus: I know, eh?
Penus plays with his newest invention.
Genitus: "The Penis," right?
Genitus scribbles on his clipboard.
Genitus: ...N, I, S.
Penus looks up from the willie.
Penus: Hmm?
Genitus: So, how does it work.
Penus: That's the best part. I was working with Testiclulus on this one. It shoots stuff. Testucles
Enter Testucles, slightly out of breath.
Testucles: Sorry, boss. Here it is.
Testucles holds up a pair of testicles.
Genitus: I don't follow.
Testucles: They're like mini factories. They make these little tiny cells with tails that can swim.
Genitus: Can I see?
Testucles: Just be careful. They're a little delicate.
Genitus: How delicate?
Testucles: Well, it's a complicated system. They're really sensitive and need to be kept at about 33 degrees.
Genitus checks his clipboard.
Genitus: Not 37 degrees?
Testucles: No.
Genitus: So what the hell are we going to do about that?
Testucles: I got it all planned out. We keep 'em in a bag.
Genitus: In a bag?! They're going to lose them!
Testucles: No, like a skin bag.
Genitus: A skin bag? Testucles, we can't afford that much material.
Enter Scrotus hurriedly.
Scrotus: Master! Master! I found something!
Scrotus hands Testucles fistfulls of skin.
Scrotus: They're elbow skin that God was just throwing away!
Testucles: That explains all the hair.
Penus hits Testucles with The Penus.
Penus: I thought we agreed on no hair!
Testucles: I'm sorry! Look, it's the best we can do.
Genitus: I'll let you sort that out for a minute while I check the design for Woman.
Penus, Testucles, and Scrotus huddle together.
Enter Vagino and Ovariam.
Genitus: Vagino! Ovarium! What do you have for us?
Vagino: Genitus, I say with no ego that this is our greatest creation. It's hidden, protected, sleek, soft, runs like clockwork, never needs replacing.
Genitus: Impressive! How does it work?
Ovariam: So, I've got these two little balls-
Genitus slaps his face into his palm.
Genitus: Calibrated to 33 degrees?
Ovariam: No. 37. Who calibrated to 33?
Genitus looks over his shouler at Penus, Testucles, and Scrotum.
Testucles: -no, no, you've got to pin it here!
Genitus turns back to Vagino and Ovariam.
Genitus: Doesn't matter.
Vagino looks over.
Vagino: What are they doing?
Genitus: Please, continue.
Ovariam: Right. So I have these balls. We can call the ovaries to avoid confusion. Anyway, so they are filled with, like, thousands and thousands of eggs-
Genitus: And the woman simply releases an egg when she wants to bear a child! Brilliant!
Pause.
Ovariam: We were thinking more of a timed release.
Genitus: So, they just sort of leak eggs from time to time?
Awkward pause.
Ovariam: You could say that.
Genitus: What happens?
Ovariam: Well, it's more than just an egg. But don't worry. We've devised a hormonal mechanism to keep it hidden.
Genitus: All right, I'll trust you know what you're doing. So, the egg comes out and then the man shoots Testucles' swimming cells onto it and it makes a baby, right?
Ovariam: Well, no. The baby has to grow inside here in this big chamber.
Genitus stares.
Genitus: And then...
Ovariam: Then you have a baby.
Genitus: How does the baby get out?
Ovariam and Vagino exchange looks.
Vagino: Ohhhhh no. No no no no no. No way. This is a masterpiece!
Ovariam (lowered voice): Vag, you're making me look bad.
Vagino: Ovariam, you make yourself look bad. We're not cramming a baby through my Vagina.
Ovariam: It's too late to change everything. C'mon, Vagino. It's the only way!
Vagino (sighs): Fine.
Genitus: Great! I've got to write up a report for God right now. Feel free to share your project with the other.
Genitus exits.
The huddled group of Penus, Testucles, and Scrotus opens up to reveal their package.
Penus: Ta-dah!
Vagino: eugh.
Next week: Gentius tries to explain to God how these parts are used to make new people.
I'm not thrilled with Ovariam and Vagino. They're not quite as entertaining as the stooges that are Penus, Testucles and Scrotus. Also, I'm more of an expert on the poor design of male genitalia than I am with regards to how women feel about their genitals. I don't know if anyone else finds it as funny as I do, but come on, a man's junk is the most poorly designed part of nature on a whole.
Hooray! You either read everything or scrolled to the bottom and said "Fuck that!"
Either way, thanks for getting to this point!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Capacity
I wonder if people have a certain capacity for life, or if life only has a certain capacity for people.
It seems like life moves on and people come and go. When someone comes in, someone is pushed out. When someone is pushed out, we bring in someone new. So I wonder if that is the way the world works, like the way the world is brought to an equilibrium on all things, or if we just don't make the effort.
You all know me. I let the world do what the world is going to do. I try to live on the surface rather than change the way things happen (even though I have, as the very name of my blog suggests, numerous problems with the world). So I wonder if the fluctuation of people within lives is due to my action/inaction, or whether it is due wholly to the ways of the world.
Here's an example: I broke up with my girlfriend a long while back (yeah, she dumped me, whatever) and I chose not to talk to her. I chose inaction. We since have spoken very few words to one another. I have better relationships with some people who I don't know the names of. On the other hand, I know a couple who broke up and tried to stay friends. As far as I can tell this resulted in some hurtful exchanges and now they are, again, as far as I know, not speaking. It seems that the course can be altered, but not the destination.
This makes me wonder if we have any control over the people who come and go out of our lives. Do we have any more control over that than we do over the flow of time?
Maybe not, but I should give some old friends a call.
It seems like life moves on and people come and go. When someone comes in, someone is pushed out. When someone is pushed out, we bring in someone new. So I wonder if that is the way the world works, like the way the world is brought to an equilibrium on all things, or if we just don't make the effort.
You all know me. I let the world do what the world is going to do. I try to live on the surface rather than change the way things happen (even though I have, as the very name of my blog suggests, numerous problems with the world). So I wonder if the fluctuation of people within lives is due to my action/inaction, or whether it is due wholly to the ways of the world.
Here's an example: I broke up with my girlfriend a long while back (yeah, she dumped me, whatever) and I chose not to talk to her. I chose inaction. We since have spoken very few words to one another. I have better relationships with some people who I don't know the names of. On the other hand, I know a couple who broke up and tried to stay friends. As far as I can tell this resulted in some hurtful exchanges and now they are, again, as far as I know, not speaking. It seems that the course can be altered, but not the destination.
This makes me wonder if we have any control over the people who come and go out of our lives. Do we have any more control over that than we do over the flow of time?
Maybe not, but I should give some old friends a call.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Never Like Anyone
This is how misogynistic men are born. Never like anyone because they'll just as soon turn their back on you as look at you. That's right, one minute they're ready to leap into be with you and the next minute they wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole. Maybe it's their "whimsical gender," or maybe it's all part of a grand scheme.
I, for one, am fucking sick of it, and I think I'm becoming something that I once hated. But that's the way life goes sometimes. Things change, people change, times change, and before you know it, you change too.
I, for one, am fucking sick of it, and I think I'm becoming something that I once hated. But that's the way life goes sometimes. Things change, people change, times change, and before you know it, you change too.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Eraser
There are three points about this film that I would like to address.
1. "That place is like a fortress."
I never realized how much of a movie staple that is until tonight. But what's interesting is why we find it interesting. Is breaking into places we shouldn't be allowed a fantasy that we enjoy vicariously through the cinema? Maybe it's the repressed anger we feel about sticking it to our former employers, because, isn't that always the case?
2. The Railgun
Obvious physics problems aside, I don't understand why Arnie didn't use the guns the way they were meant to. They have x-ray scopes (despite x-rays not working like that) and could shoot through almost anything at nearly the speed of light. Arnie downs to guys in a warehouse and, rather than staying inside the warehouse where normal bullets couldn't hit him and shooting all the bad guys with the assisted heart-seeking x-ray scope, he walks out and shoots everybody with two railguns. He would have killed just as many, if not more, people if he had been using normal machine guns; probably would have done less damage to cousin Tony's docks, too.
3. Train Operators
They are people! I think movies really tend to forget this. For those of you who haven't seen Eraser, SPOILER ALERT, the bad guys die in the end. Arnie locks them in their limo and it gets hit by a train. Wonderful. But does anyone think about the guy who operates the train? No. Nobody does. This poor fellow is just driving a train through town assuming that when the gates come down on the road the path will be clear. But today the path wasn't clear. Today there was a limo on it. The engineer blows the horn and puts on full brakes, but it's too late. The point of no return has been crossed. The train obliterates the limo and although there will always be thoughts of "that was awesome," surely the engineer must be hoping that no one is inside.
"They had to catch a train," Arnie quips before he vacates the scene.
The train finally grinds to a halt. The engineer has already reported the incident. A dozen emergency vehicles drive down the gravel lined railway, hundreds of metres from the initial collision. They manoeuvrer slowly around the wreckage keeping a close eye out for bodies.
The engineer is questioned; detained even. The bombardment of questions fail to penetrate the guilt-wrought conscience of the engineer; only causing noise and distortion, like rain in an ocean.
"I could have stopped sooner. They might have made it..."
The death of three men lies solely on the conscience of the train engineer. An honest life forever stained, a soul tortured.
Four men's lives were lost on that day.
1. "That place is like a fortress."
I never realized how much of a movie staple that is until tonight. But what's interesting is why we find it interesting. Is breaking into places we shouldn't be allowed a fantasy that we enjoy vicariously through the cinema? Maybe it's the repressed anger we feel about sticking it to our former employers, because, isn't that always the case?
2. The RailgunObvious physics problems aside, I don't understand why Arnie didn't use the guns the way they were meant to. They have x-ray scopes (despite x-rays not working like that) and could shoot through almost anything at nearly the speed of light. Arnie downs to guys in a warehouse and, rather than staying inside the warehouse where normal bullets couldn't hit him and shooting all the bad guys with the assisted heart-seeking x-ray scope, he walks out and shoots everybody with two railguns. He would have killed just as many, if not more, people if he had been using normal machine guns; probably would have done less damage to cousin Tony's docks, too.
3. Train Operators
They are people! I think movies really tend to forget this. For those of you who haven't seen Eraser, SPOILER ALERT, the bad guys die in the end. Arnie locks them in their limo and it gets hit by a train. Wonderful. But does anyone think about the guy who operates the train? No. Nobody does. This poor fellow is just driving a train through town assuming that when the gates come down on the road the path will be clear. But today the path wasn't clear. Today there was a limo on it. The engineer blows the horn and puts on full brakes, but it's too late. The point of no return has been crossed. The train obliterates the limo and although there will always be thoughts of "that was awesome," surely the engineer must be hoping that no one is inside.
"They had to catch a train," Arnie quips before he vacates the scene.
The train finally grinds to a halt. The engineer has already reported the incident. A dozen emergency vehicles drive down the gravel lined railway, hundreds of metres from the initial collision. They manoeuvrer slowly around the wreckage keeping a close eye out for bodies.
The engineer is questioned; detained even. The bombardment of questions fail to penetrate the guilt-wrought conscience of the engineer; only causing noise and distortion, like rain in an ocean.
"I could have stopped sooner. They might have made it..."
The death of three men lies solely on the conscience of the train engineer. An honest life forever stained, a soul tortured.
Four men's lives were lost on that day.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Backup Strategies
I think the worst thing about backup strategies is that if you have doubts about the success of Plan A, what reason do you have to believe that Plan B will be anymore successful? Plan B is just as capable of failure as Plan A was. So why the hell have a Plan B? Or why not have an infinite regression of alternate plans?
What's worse is when you take a Plan A, swap it for Plan B, because Plan A seems bust, and then when Plan B fails you think you can resort to Plan A as your "Plan B". Well, guess what? It doesn't work that way. When life is in Fail-Mode, no amount of planning in the world can stop it.
My problem with the whole "wing it" strategy is that it lacks commitment. I want to commit. I want to turn things away because I'm already in something. It's kind of like those assignments in school that were completely open. When you can do anything you want, you can't ever think of what you want. There needs to be some restrictions, some limitations. There needs to be boundaries that can be pushed before you're really creating anything. Otherwise you're just making a big fucking mess.
What's worse is when you take a Plan A, swap it for Plan B, because Plan A seems bust, and then when Plan B fails you think you can resort to Plan A as your "Plan B". Well, guess what? It doesn't work that way. When life is in Fail-Mode, no amount of planning in the world can stop it.
My problem with the whole "wing it" strategy is that it lacks commitment. I want to commit. I want to turn things away because I'm already in something. It's kind of like those assignments in school that were completely open. When you can do anything you want, you can't ever think of what you want. There needs to be some restrictions, some limitations. There needs to be boundaries that can be pushed before you're really creating anything. Otherwise you're just making a big fucking mess.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Winter Home
So, I'm back in the winter home for, well, the winter. I keep telling myself that I'll have so much more time because I... to be honest, I have no idea how I think I will have more time. Maybe it's just that I'll have more space to spread out. That was my biggest problem back home. It's actually nice to have to enter a different room to play video games after you wake up. It's good to have to walk through rooms to get to things rather than over things to get through rooms.
There is, however, a terrible drawback. I have to start all over again. I need to get my setup right and stock food. I own a bag of crisps and a 7-up. That'll have to last me until breakfast tomorrow. Then hopefully I can buy my weight in groceries.
The biggest change this year will be not having my best friend Thom living so close. I think it might get a bit lonely without hanging out on DnD Tuesday, or bailing on classes for a bro day when the weather is shit. All that space is good for my things, but it could use some friends to fill it out.
There is, however, a terrible drawback. I have to start all over again. I need to get my setup right and stock food. I own a bag of crisps and a 7-up. That'll have to last me until breakfast tomorrow. Then hopefully I can buy my weight in groceries.
The biggest change this year will be not having my best friend Thom living so close. I think it might get a bit lonely without hanging out on DnD Tuesday, or bailing on classes for a bro day when the weather is shit. All that space is good for my things, but it could use some friends to fill it out.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Balls.
In a word, Fuck.
In a longer word, FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKKK!!
I can't not think about things. It's all fine and dandy to "let things happen," but I just can never not think about what could happen. And then I'm left disappointed when it doesn't. I need a time machine to go back to art school when I was in my first year and do it all differently. I think I wasted my early years worrying about how not to waste them instead of wasting them having fun. Now it seems like I'm too old to have fun. Not that 23 is old, but in the surroundings of almost entirely 18 year olds, I'm ancient.
I guess I have to play catch up on life. Finish school, get a job, and be the same kind of miserable everyone else is. Maybe then I can change it from the inside.
In a longer word, FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKKK!!
I can't not think about things. It's all fine and dandy to "let things happen," but I just can never not think about what could happen. And then I'm left disappointed when it doesn't. I need a time machine to go back to art school when I was in my first year and do it all differently. I think I wasted my early years worrying about how not to waste them instead of wasting them having fun. Now it seems like I'm too old to have fun. Not that 23 is old, but in the surroundings of almost entirely 18 year olds, I'm ancient.
I guess I have to play catch up on life. Finish school, get a job, and be the same kind of miserable everyone else is. Maybe then I can change it from the inside.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Be Married
I just finished catching up with one of the few people I met last year at school. When I first met her I thought to myself "now here is a very attractive, smart, cheerful, bright, all around positive woman my age and she's sitting down next to me and talking to me. This can't be happening."
I soon found out in that semester that she was engaged to be married this past summer. After that, I had no problems talking to her. There really wasn't anything for me to be nervous about. There wasn't anything on the line.
I tried to work myself up to talk to this other girl in the same class. Well, the day I was going to ask her if she wanted to do something was the day she stopped coming to class. I emailed her and asked her what was up and suggested that we get together. She said we should and we back and forth'd a bit, and then I never heard from her again.
This is the case of so many single girls. Hook up with a single girl, get rejected. Talk to a single girl, she leaves the class. Friend of a friend, potential lesbian. Primed for a blind date, mysterious disappearance. Try and sit next to a girl in class, she moves to the other side of the room.
My conclusion is thus: Fuck single girls. One of the most fun times I've ever had in my life is stealing a girl from her boyfriend. Yeah, that ended poorly, and the type of girl that'll leave her boyfriend for me is the type of girl that'll leave me for her new boyfriend, but shit, that wasn't so bad, was it? So maybe the plan should be to subvert boyfriend "authority" and steal a girl who is already taken.
For all the talk I do about not wanting to do marketing because I don't like the idea of a competitive market, I sure do like winning. I like being better than someone else. And watching a social dynamic shift in my favour is the highest form of entertainment I have ever experienced.
Maybe I am enough of a bastard for marketing.
I soon found out in that semester that she was engaged to be married this past summer. After that, I had no problems talking to her. There really wasn't anything for me to be nervous about. There wasn't anything on the line.
I tried to work myself up to talk to this other girl in the same class. Well, the day I was going to ask her if she wanted to do something was the day she stopped coming to class. I emailed her and asked her what was up and suggested that we get together. She said we should and we back and forth'd a bit, and then I never heard from her again.
This is the case of so many single girls. Hook up with a single girl, get rejected. Talk to a single girl, she leaves the class. Friend of a friend, potential lesbian. Primed for a blind date, mysterious disappearance. Try and sit next to a girl in class, she moves to the other side of the room.
My conclusion is thus: Fuck single girls. One of the most fun times I've ever had in my life is stealing a girl from her boyfriend. Yeah, that ended poorly, and the type of girl that'll leave her boyfriend for me is the type of girl that'll leave me for her new boyfriend, but shit, that wasn't so bad, was it? So maybe the plan should be to subvert boyfriend "authority" and steal a girl who is already taken.
For all the talk I do about not wanting to do marketing because I don't like the idea of a competitive market, I sure do like winning. I like being better than someone else. And watching a social dynamic shift in my favour is the highest form of entertainment I have ever experienced.
Maybe I am enough of a bastard for marketing.
Friday, September 18, 2009
An Old Man's Proverb
The other day an elderly gentleman gave me some words of wisdom that I found simply fantastic. He said to me, "I learned a long time ago that the only one who can ruin your day is you."
I think this is brilliant. Never let life get you down. Things are always going to suck, but you have to enjoy what you've got. I know I've ruined a few days my getting mad at something or upset about something or being depressed about something that isn't happening. After the fact (though I may blog about it) it's really nothing worth mentioning or thinking twice about. In the end, I'd be better of to be cool and have myself a good day.
But on the other side of that, as I have also discovered more recently, no one can make your day like someone else. It's really hard to do something yourself that makes you specifically happy. Maybe it's a modesty thing, but when you make yourself dinner, you don't care. But when someone makes you dinner, you appreciate it. Little things that others do do so much to make my day. I'm sure that door swings both ways.
Keep it swingin', readers.
I think this is brilliant. Never let life get you down. Things are always going to suck, but you have to enjoy what you've got. I know I've ruined a few days my getting mad at something or upset about something or being depressed about something that isn't happening. After the fact (though I may blog about it) it's really nothing worth mentioning or thinking twice about. In the end, I'd be better of to be cool and have myself a good day.
But on the other side of that, as I have also discovered more recently, no one can make your day like someone else. It's really hard to do something yourself that makes you specifically happy. Maybe it's a modesty thing, but when you make yourself dinner, you don't care. But when someone makes you dinner, you appreciate it. Little things that others do do so much to make my day. I'm sure that door swings both ways.
Keep it swingin', readers.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
I forgot how fucked up everything is out here...
Have things always been so complicated? Has the world always been this way? Maybe we were just too young to understand, or maybe we were too distracted to see it, but the world sucks. But not in a Captain Planet/starving kids in Africa/social injustice/ongoing communist threat/McDonald's deficiency in undeveloped nations kind of way. The world sucks on a personal level.
Maybe I'm a pessimist, but I'm starting to wonder if all the good things in life just make us ignore the bad things. Have a pint and forget about work. Eat and forget about the one that got away. Fuck and forget the disease. Are these the things that make life enjoyable, or are these the distractions?
I suppose a lot of things are inevitable. Maybe forgetting what you cannot change is as good as abolishing it as long as there is nothing you can do about it. Maybe distractions are productive.
We can't be purely hedonistic, but we can't dwell on everything. Where do we draw the line?
Maybe I'm a pessimist, but I'm starting to wonder if all the good things in life just make us ignore the bad things. Have a pint and forget about work. Eat and forget about the one that got away. Fuck and forget the disease. Are these the things that make life enjoyable, or are these the distractions?
I suppose a lot of things are inevitable. Maybe forgetting what you cannot change is as good as abolishing it as long as there is nothing you can do about it. Maybe distractions are productive.
We can't be purely hedonistic, but we can't dwell on everything. Where do we draw the line?
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Oracle at Wendy's
So, I went to Wendy's for dinner tonight. The girl at the till was cute, efficient, and very friendly. That in and of itself made the visit memorable.
I sat down in one of the lonesome corners of the restaurant to eat. From across the restaurant I heard a voice say, "I know him. I know him."
I was amused and wondered if perhaps I was known by someone in the dining area. I didn't know anyone, but maybe someone knew me. Perhaps, I thought, someone knew me without ever meeting me before. Perhaps someone was telepathic.
I always liked the idea of someone being telepathic. The idea that someone can know you inside and out and you have no control over it is both scary and refreshing. Secrets are like life in that sense. Sure, you should protect them, but you can't stop a telepath any more than you can stop the Grim Reaper. So why not think your thoughts? Why not communicate via your brain. It's not like it's embarrassing, because either no one is telepathic and you're just thinking, or someone is telepathic and you're communicating with them.
So I thought to myself,'What if he knew my name? Maybe he could be telepathic. Maybe that's how he knows me. Give me a signal if you know me. Give me a message that you understand. Give me some sort of sign.'
Nothing. We all continued to eat.
My mind moved on. I was texting around and having some laughs. And in the middle of a text, I hear a child nearby say 'goodbye.' It was the voice who knew me. Right there at the edge of my table was this 6-year old child who walked across the restaurant away from his family to say goodbye to me and no one else. I smiled and said goodbye to him too. He said to me, "My friend is in black car," in the way that children tell you the important things in their life, like "I'm real good at soccer," or "I have a Batman;" they have the calmest enthusiasm ever. I didn't understand, so I asked him where his friend was again.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"He's in black car."
That's when his slightly older sister came to collect him. The boy refused to leave, his tiny hands locked onto the edge of the table. He just looked at me. As brief as the moment had been the moment ended when his mother called from the aisle that it was time to stop bothering the nice man.
"Bye."
I know it sounds ominoius and eerie, but it didn't sound like that at the time. He was just talking in the wonderfully happy, matter-of-fact kind of way that young children do. But why me? Why from all the way across the room? I never even acknowledged him when he said he knew me.
I don't know who is in the black car, but that's the sign.
I sat down in one of the lonesome corners of the restaurant to eat. From across the restaurant I heard a voice say, "I know him. I know him."
I was amused and wondered if perhaps I was known by someone in the dining area. I didn't know anyone, but maybe someone knew me. Perhaps, I thought, someone knew me without ever meeting me before. Perhaps someone was telepathic.
I always liked the idea of someone being telepathic. The idea that someone can know you inside and out and you have no control over it is both scary and refreshing. Secrets are like life in that sense. Sure, you should protect them, but you can't stop a telepath any more than you can stop the Grim Reaper. So why not think your thoughts? Why not communicate via your brain. It's not like it's embarrassing, because either no one is telepathic and you're just thinking, or someone is telepathic and you're communicating with them.
So I thought to myself,'What if he knew my name? Maybe he could be telepathic. Maybe that's how he knows me. Give me a signal if you know me. Give me a message that you understand. Give me some sort of sign.'
Nothing. We all continued to eat.
My mind moved on. I was texting around and having some laughs. And in the middle of a text, I hear a child nearby say 'goodbye.' It was the voice who knew me. Right there at the edge of my table was this 6-year old child who walked across the restaurant away from his family to say goodbye to me and no one else. I smiled and said goodbye to him too. He said to me, "My friend is in black car," in the way that children tell you the important things in their life, like "I'm real good at soccer," or "I have a Batman;" they have the calmest enthusiasm ever. I didn't understand, so I asked him where his friend was again.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"He's in black car."
That's when his slightly older sister came to collect him. The boy refused to leave, his tiny hands locked onto the edge of the table. He just looked at me. As brief as the moment had been the moment ended when his mother called from the aisle that it was time to stop bothering the nice man.
"Bye."
I know it sounds ominoius and eerie, but it didn't sound like that at the time. He was just talking in the wonderfully happy, matter-of-fact kind of way that young children do. But why me? Why from all the way across the room? I never even acknowledged him when he said he knew me.
I don't know who is in the black car, but that's the sign.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Friday, July 3, 2009
Racism: It's Not Black and White
I try really really hard not to be racist. When you come into my store and stick a bottle of whiskey in your pants, I try really hard to believe you when you say you put it back while I was walking from the security camera to the liquor aisle. But when you ask "is it policy to search every black guy who comes in here?" I think "no, it's my policy to stop petty thieving fuckwits while I'm busy earning a living."
Oh, and when you get your two latino goons to come help suckerpunch a store clerk, I'm not judging you by the colour of your skin, but by your complete lack of character.
The whole experience got me thinking, though. Perhaps racism is part of healthy discrimination. On the outside, that looks bad, but it's important to understand what discrimination is. Discrimination is eating sealed candy at Halloween opposed to the free candied apples from the man on the street with the trenchcoat. Discrimination is sticking to the well lit streets than the dark alleys. Discrimination is hanging out with your friends in a crowd. Discrimination is voting one political candidate over another. Discrimination is the very foundation of our way of life. So, when you're punched in the gut for trying to stop a black guy from leaving with the bottle of whiskey stashed in his drawers, the hindsight reads that you should have been a little more discriminatory.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that racism is the only way in which we should discriminate. Far from it. One of my favourite customers is black. I love that guy! But he's an older, more respectable, and all around less suspicious guy. So upon judgement of his clothes, his age, his social standing, being black doesn't even factor into the equation. But when some teenage asshole comes in with pants off his ass and a hoodie two sizes too big, being black factors in. White assholes with big hoods and low pants are just trying to look cool when in truth they are just idiots; not to mention if they are stealing, they give up when you catch them.
I hate having to say that racial stereotypes are true, but they can be when combined with the right circumstances. Just the same, you can tell all the white kids who are bootlegging, drunk, on drugs, and/or trying to pass off fake IDs to some extend by virtue of their whiteness. I assume this because the only drunks, drug users, (obvious) bootleggers and (again, obvious) fake ID users are whiter than a 10 piece McNugget meal.
So, this is the part of the blog where I'd normally try and suggest ways to end racism or steer it in a more positive direction. But until the numbers balance out, I think racism is here to stay. I'm sure I'm discriminated against for the clothes I wear, the people I associate with, the car I drive, the things I pay for, and the blogs I write. But if I had a problem with it I could take actions to change the way people look at me.
My first change to deconstruct racism would be to not steal shit or punch store clerks.
Oh, and when you get your two latino goons to come help suckerpunch a store clerk, I'm not judging you by the colour of your skin, but by your complete lack of character.
The whole experience got me thinking, though. Perhaps racism is part of healthy discrimination. On the outside, that looks bad, but it's important to understand what discrimination is. Discrimination is eating sealed candy at Halloween opposed to the free candied apples from the man on the street with the trenchcoat. Discrimination is sticking to the well lit streets than the dark alleys. Discrimination is hanging out with your friends in a crowd. Discrimination is voting one political candidate over another. Discrimination is the very foundation of our way of life. So, when you're punched in the gut for trying to stop a black guy from leaving with the bottle of whiskey stashed in his drawers, the hindsight reads that you should have been a little more discriminatory.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that racism is the only way in which we should discriminate. Far from it. One of my favourite customers is black. I love that guy! But he's an older, more respectable, and all around less suspicious guy. So upon judgement of his clothes, his age, his social standing, being black doesn't even factor into the equation. But when some teenage asshole comes in with pants off his ass and a hoodie two sizes too big, being black factors in. White assholes with big hoods and low pants are just trying to look cool when in truth they are just idiots; not to mention if they are stealing, they give up when you catch them.
I hate having to say that racial stereotypes are true, but they can be when combined with the right circumstances. Just the same, you can tell all the white kids who are bootlegging, drunk, on drugs, and/or trying to pass off fake IDs to some extend by virtue of their whiteness. I assume this because the only drunks, drug users, (obvious) bootleggers and (again, obvious) fake ID users are whiter than a 10 piece McNugget meal.
So, this is the part of the blog where I'd normally try and suggest ways to end racism or steer it in a more positive direction. But until the numbers balance out, I think racism is here to stay. I'm sure I'm discriminated against for the clothes I wear, the people I associate with, the car I drive, the things I pay for, and the blogs I write. But if I had a problem with it I could take actions to change the way people look at me.
My first change to deconstruct racism would be to not steal shit or punch store clerks.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Back to my old life
Ahhh! That's more like it! I felt like I was living someone else's life for a while there, but now it's right back to no one giving a god damn.
Don't get me wrong. I know I have friends that care. But that's just the thing, I've already got friends that care. I've completed all the achievements for best friend. I earned the title. Alex Minions; B.F.A., B.F.F.
Someone dies? I have a best friend to go to. I like someone? I've got a best friend to go to. I had a really good poop? I can tell my best friend about it.
It's not that I don't want to have girls who are friends. Female friends are great when you need womanly advice. But you only ever need womanly advice when either A) trying to get a woman, B) trying to get a woman back, or C) trying to make the woman you have happy. When you want the girl who wants to be friends, what can you really ask from them? You can't ask how to get them because they won't tell you (oh, there is a way). You can't ask them how to get another girl because either A) you don't like the other girl as much but the girl you really like doesn't care that you're interested in someone else, B) you like the other girl but by asking the first girl you tear her feelings apart because she secretly actually likes you, or C) you like the other girl more and the first girl gets angry and jealous. Quite frankly, C is the best, but I don't know if it is a likely possibility. The point is that when I'm friends with a girl and I also like that girl, I want to be with that girl. And sometimes it doesn't work out and that's okay. If we're actually friends, we'll stay actual friends because things could only end mutually.
In my experience, things that end poorly are one sided, and things that end well (end up well), are somewhat mutual. Compatibility issue = still friends. Dumped for someone else = not still friends. It's a pretty easy chart to follow.
See what I mean? Back to my usual self. Sorry I haven't been blogging. :P
Don't get me wrong. I know I have friends that care. But that's just the thing, I've already got friends that care. I've completed all the achievements for best friend. I earned the title. Alex Minions; B.F.A., B.F.F.
Someone dies? I have a best friend to go to. I like someone? I've got a best friend to go to. I had a really good poop? I can tell my best friend about it.
It's not that I don't want to have girls who are friends. Female friends are great when you need womanly advice. But you only ever need womanly advice when either A) trying to get a woman, B) trying to get a woman back, or C) trying to make the woman you have happy. When you want the girl who wants to be friends, what can you really ask from them? You can't ask how to get them because they won't tell you (oh, there is a way). You can't ask them how to get another girl because either A) you don't like the other girl as much but the girl you really like doesn't care that you're interested in someone else, B) you like the other girl but by asking the first girl you tear her feelings apart because she secretly actually likes you, or C) you like the other girl more and the first girl gets angry and jealous. Quite frankly, C is the best, but I don't know if it is a likely possibility. The point is that when I'm friends with a girl and I also like that girl, I want to be with that girl. And sometimes it doesn't work out and that's okay. If we're actually friends, we'll stay actual friends because things could only end mutually.
In my experience, things that end poorly are one sided, and things that end well (end up well), are somewhat mutual. Compatibility issue = still friends. Dumped for someone else = not still friends. It's a pretty easy chart to follow.
See what I mean? Back to my usual self. Sorry I haven't been blogging. :P
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Life's Too Long or Do Venetians Dream Of Idaho?
A lot of people claim that life is too short to not do things. Ten Places You Have To See Before You Die. Fifteen Things You Have To Do Before You Die. Thirty-Seven Flavours To Taste Before You Die. Eight Types Of Yoga To Eternal Peace (That You Have To Do Before You Die).
Okay, I understand that the modern world has a lot to offer. But what I don't understand is why you have to do it all. Is your life worth less by not doing all these things? Were 18th century Europeans at a loss for never seeing the tremendous flatness of Saskatchewan? Were 15th century Chinese not living life to their maximum potential by not visiting Tokyo? Were 20th century citizens of the world not living their lives to the maximum potential because they had not circumnavigated the globe? Will people of the 21st century be scoffed at while telling their tales of not going to the moon? Where does it end? Why can't we live where we live and be happy with that?
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for exploring, but why do you need to see the things that you think you need to see because people tell you that you need to see the things that they've seen? That's not exploring. That's following orders. That's being obligated to "not waste you short life." It's bullshit.
What doubles this bullshit is the idea that a family will restrict your ability to experience this "exploration" which people claim is synonymous to life. Since when did watching the transformation of the cultures and topographies through the window of a tour bus become a greater marvel than nurturing a child of your own blood from infant to self reliant human being? Since when did studying the details in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel become more spectacular than watching your own child laugh and live and learn and love. Since when is seeing the Colosseum from a different perspective than the postcards more spectacular than seeing a child's development from the perspective of a mother or father?
My traditional argument is that not having children is selfish. You were a child once. Your parents spent uncountable hours and sums of money raising you. They poured themselves, their hearts and their minds, their very souls into you, and you refuse to pay it forward? How can you refuse to love a child the way that you were loved as a child? But that's not what I'm arguing here.
What I'm arguing is that having children is self-fulfilling and people don't seem to get that. People seem to think that when they're 50, they can still be the spirit of the twenty-something they used to be. They believe that the adventures can never die as long as you don't move beyond your "ideal" age. This Peter Pan notion that we can exist in one state forever is absurd. We change. That is a fact that has been proved by the dozens of photo albums of your past. Go ahead and look. Remember how you used to do your hair? Remember what you used to think was fashionable? Remember your ex? Remember how that seemed like such a good idea?
Yeah, but I'm older now. It's different.
It's not fucking different. You will grow older. You will change. You will never ever be the same. This is the rule of growth. You grow up, you grow old, you grow out. And life is simply too long to have your game plan be "stay 27 forever." You will see the world and you will perform Dhalsimian yoga. You will have a million stories that fall upon deaf ears because your middle aged friends are more concerned about their child's first end-of-year dance and your middle aged friends that pretend they'll be 27 forever are off experiencing the unique flavours of Turkmenistan. Maybe that's the life for you. I'll never understand how someone could be so excited about seeing new things, but never venture into experiencing a crucial aspect of life that is entirely foreign until you commit to it. I think people that feel they need to see the world are as much afraid to take the step from life to death as they are to take the step from child to parent.
It's time to come to terms with life.
Okay, I understand that the modern world has a lot to offer. But what I don't understand is why you have to do it all. Is your life worth less by not doing all these things? Were 18th century Europeans at a loss for never seeing the tremendous flatness of Saskatchewan? Were 15th century Chinese not living life to their maximum potential by not visiting Tokyo? Were 20th century citizens of the world not living their lives to the maximum potential because they had not circumnavigated the globe? Will people of the 21st century be scoffed at while telling their tales of not going to the moon? Where does it end? Why can't we live where we live and be happy with that?
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for exploring, but why do you need to see the things that you think you need to see because people tell you that you need to see the things that they've seen? That's not exploring. That's following orders. That's being obligated to "not waste you short life." It's bullshit.
What doubles this bullshit is the idea that a family will restrict your ability to experience this "exploration" which people claim is synonymous to life. Since when did watching the transformation of the cultures and topographies through the window of a tour bus become a greater marvel than nurturing a child of your own blood from infant to self reliant human being? Since when did studying the details in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel become more spectacular than watching your own child laugh and live and learn and love. Since when is seeing the Colosseum from a different perspective than the postcards more spectacular than seeing a child's development from the perspective of a mother or father?
My traditional argument is that not having children is selfish. You were a child once. Your parents spent uncountable hours and sums of money raising you. They poured themselves, their hearts and their minds, their very souls into you, and you refuse to pay it forward? How can you refuse to love a child the way that you were loved as a child? But that's not what I'm arguing here.
What I'm arguing is that having children is self-fulfilling and people don't seem to get that. People seem to think that when they're 50, they can still be the spirit of the twenty-something they used to be. They believe that the adventures can never die as long as you don't move beyond your "ideal" age. This Peter Pan notion that we can exist in one state forever is absurd. We change. That is a fact that has been proved by the dozens of photo albums of your past. Go ahead and look. Remember how you used to do your hair? Remember what you used to think was fashionable? Remember your ex? Remember how that seemed like such a good idea?
Yeah, but I'm older now. It's different.
It's not fucking different. You will grow older. You will change. You will never ever be the same. This is the rule of growth. You grow up, you grow old, you grow out. And life is simply too long to have your game plan be "stay 27 forever." You will see the world and you will perform Dhalsimian yoga. You will have a million stories that fall upon deaf ears because your middle aged friends are more concerned about their child's first end-of-year dance and your middle aged friends that pretend they'll be 27 forever are off experiencing the unique flavours of Turkmenistan. Maybe that's the life for you. I'll never understand how someone could be so excited about seeing new things, but never venture into experiencing a crucial aspect of life that is entirely foreign until you commit to it. I think people that feel they need to see the world are as much afraid to take the step from life to death as they are to take the step from child to parent.
It's time to come to terms with life.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Fatherhood, The New Cycle, and Unbalanced Skills
I'm not going to make a very good dad.
Sure, I'll be great when my kids are growing up, but as soon as girls enter their heads, I'm hosed. You see, I have fallen out of the old cycle and into the new cycle of gender relationships. In the old cycle, the women wanted to get married and have children and men wanted to rich and successful. The man that every girl wanted was the one that shared the girls' interests which, at the time, involved family. The rule still applies today, only girls want different things. Maybe they caught on that men were being raised to be loving, caring, and sensitive and didn't want to let things be easy for them. So, as a collective, women decided that the important things in their lives would be having a career (nothing wrong with that) and not having a family (something wrong with that).
I'll explain that last pointed remark. You're you, yeah? You like you, don't you? You wouldn't be you if you didn't exist. You wouldn't exist without being born. You wouldn't be born if you didn't have parents. Your parents wouldn't have been born without their parents. In fact, 100% of the human population that has ever lived is a result of a very long tradition of having a family. Everything in the world exists as a direct result of having a family (for without family, there would be no you or me, and without us, who would there be to enjoy the world? Not to mention there would be a severe deficiency of electric guitars). In short, my argument is that you're awesome and I want to keep the awesome train rolling.
But back to the point. Women want different things. I, however, have been equipped for the old cycle. My skills and interests include cooking, doing dishes, sewing, fixing things, appreciating loved ones, building sand castles, having children and a family that I will love the way my family has loved me. These are things I like because these are the things my dad likes/does. The things I do not like and do not want to do: dancing, going to clubs, "seeing the world before I'm 25", being the right balance of asshole to keep a girl interested, living only for myself... I'll explain all of these:
Where was I? Oh yes, skills. I have husband skills (not to be confused with husbandry, of which I know little). I don't have... uh, attract the ladies skills. It's like being a fully licensed scuba diving deep sea treasure hunter without knowing how to swim. Once I'm down there scubaing I'm okay. It's just getting there that's the problem.
And with absolutely no knowledge or advice in the "be a dick, learn to dance, see the world, don't have a family" department, I'm really not going to be able to equip my kids with the tools to attract girls. I really hope girls change in their 30s.
Maybe if all my children were girls I wouldn't have to worry about it.
Sure, I'll be great when my kids are growing up, but as soon as girls enter their heads, I'm hosed. You see, I have fallen out of the old cycle and into the new cycle of gender relationships. In the old cycle, the women wanted to get married and have children and men wanted to rich and successful. The man that every girl wanted was the one that shared the girls' interests which, at the time, involved family. The rule still applies today, only girls want different things. Maybe they caught on that men were being raised to be loving, caring, and sensitive and didn't want to let things be easy for them. So, as a collective, women decided that the important things in their lives would be having a career (nothing wrong with that) and not having a family (something wrong with that).
I'll explain that last pointed remark. You're you, yeah? You like you, don't you? You wouldn't be you if you didn't exist. You wouldn't exist without being born. You wouldn't be born if you didn't have parents. Your parents wouldn't have been born without their parents. In fact, 100% of the human population that has ever lived is a result of a very long tradition of having a family. Everything in the world exists as a direct result of having a family (for without family, there would be no you or me, and without us, who would there be to enjoy the world? Not to mention there would be a severe deficiency of electric guitars). In short, my argument is that you're awesome and I want to keep the awesome train rolling.
But back to the point. Women want different things. I, however, have been equipped for the old cycle. My skills and interests include cooking, doing dishes, sewing, fixing things, appreciating loved ones, building sand castles, having children and a family that I will love the way my family has loved me. These are things I like because these are the things my dad likes/does. The things I do not like and do not want to do: dancing, going to clubs, "seeing the world before I'm 25", being the right balance of asshole to keep a girl interested, living only for myself... I'll explain all of these:
- Dancing. I rarely fall down. I run down steep rocky terrain for fun. I can navigate the iciest streets without losing my cool. If I had to choose between being able to command my feet to move in an attractive fashion to the sound of music or be able to trust my feet never to let me down (ba-dum tish), I would choose, and have chosen, the latter. I like listening to music, but it doesn't make me want to wave my arms in the air like I just don't care. I do care. I reserve grace for preventing personal injury, not for wooing girls (though, if I had known it would be such a big thing, I probably would have traded. Somehow girls can adore a klutz that can shake it on the dancefloor, but a man that you can trust will never let you fall in the icy streets isn't worth a second glance.)
- Going to clubs. It's like drill camp for beginner dancers. Here's a beat. Dance. Do it. Do it again. Do it again. Do it again. I don't know where the line is between doing the same move over and over again and acting like you're having a seizure is. Yeah, I know, no one cares how you look. But if you were to, say, trip up the stairs at school, no one would care. You'd still be embarrassed. Club logic fails. Also, you can't get to know someone at a club further than the observation of how she acts at a club.
- Seeing the world before I'm 25. I'm 22. I have $600 to my name. So, first of all, I can't afford it, and would rather save for a house or a car than say, "I saw Thailand, too!" Not to mention the fact that there is so much to experience at home. What about love and making a place you call home? What happened to finding your place in the world? Why do we feel the need to travel to places with big spiders when you could vacation in Europe occasionally when you're 40? 40, when you can afford a nice meal, a decent hotel, maybe rent a car and see the world on your terms. Sure, you have to come back to your job and the real world, but look at it this way: you come back to a job and the real world. That's called security. I've never understood peoples' fear of security.
- Asshole. I'll never get it. Sometimes I hate clichés, but when it comes to nice guys and women, they are all so very true.
- Living for myself. I've never been good at this. Living for me is what I call surviving. Getting by. What's the point of being happy alone? You will die and your happiness will die with you. Your existence on Earth is a moot point unless you do something that benefits all of mankind. If you don't make it into a grade school history textbook, your contribution to society could have been made by any one else. This is sounding very bleak, but that's what I imagine life alone to be. Where's your mark? If you love, you leave your impression on the world with the person you love. If you have children, you live forever through your lineage. Your importance to the world grows exponentially as your children love and your children's children love. So it's not me that is important. It is the person I love that is important. She is worth going to work each day for. She is worth eating properly. She is worth exercise and everything else I "should do for me." If my life doesn't affect anyone, why should I take care of myself? I'm going to end up in the same place.
Where was I? Oh yes, skills. I have husband skills (not to be confused with husbandry, of which I know little). I don't have... uh, attract the ladies skills. It's like being a fully licensed scuba diving deep sea treasure hunter without knowing how to swim. Once I'm down there scubaing I'm okay. It's just getting there that's the problem.
And with absolutely no knowledge or advice in the "be a dick, learn to dance, see the world, don't have a family" department, I'm really not going to be able to equip my kids with the tools to attract girls. I really hope girls change in their 30s.
Maybe if all my children were girls I wouldn't have to worry about it.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Exorcise equipment
- The body of something once breathing
- Salt
- Alcohol
- Rainwater
- Infra-red radiation
- At least two of the following pieces of a woman:
- Eyes
- Heart
- Hands
- Lips
- Skin
- Strings
- Brass
- Time
- An angel
- A friend
Friday, February 20, 2009
Masochism
Why do I enjoy so many things that are bad for me? It's not just things like fat and sugar and salt and all those other delicious necessities that have been concentrated into lethal doses.
It's the alcohol, the girls, the Thing at 2 in the morning...
It sounds like more fun than you think. But somehow I enjoy it. It all is such a good idea when it's happening. It's only when you stop that the hangover kicks in, the heartache grabs hold, and the nightmares begin.
I think I'm going to keep doing it even though I've told myself to stop.
It's the alcohol, the girls, the Thing at 2 in the morning...
It sounds like more fun than you think. But somehow I enjoy it. It all is such a good idea when it's happening. It's only when you stop that the hangover kicks in, the heartache grabs hold, and the nightmares begin.
I think I'm going to keep doing it even though I've told myself to stop.
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