Sunday, November 22, 2009
No, not nice
My personality seems to be changing. I am not particularly nice anymore, in fact I'm kind of angry and confrontational. I feel a bit out of control, but at least I'm not so sleepy anymore. Probably better to spend one's life awake, even if that means one will be spending a lot of time screaming at people.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
unplugged
So, I'm traveling again. Hotels, motels, Holiday Inns. Mostly Holiday Inns. I've noticed this before, but it never ceases to surprise me: I'm happier when I'm on the road. Or not happier, maybe, but less miserable. There are clear tasks to accomplish, and I can accomplish them. Not like in normal life, when I can't figure out what the tasks even are. Get married, buy a house, have kids? That either sounds ridiculous or impossible. This, I guess, is why I haven't done anything of significance to me in the past 6 years. I get distracted by work. I mean, I guess that's what you're supposed to do -- work hard, make money, spend the money, die of cancer. It's not that I really think there's more to life than that. It's just damned depressing is all.
Sang arias at a bar last night. It was sort of nice. Oh, hell, it was really nice -- the nicest thing that's happened to me in quite a while. Yes, I am an approval addict, and yes I would have wanted to die if I had sounded bad or been met with blank stares or awkward throat clearing. But everyone was nice. I did not make eye contact with anyone as that is not my style, but I'll assume no one made a face. It is frustrating to have praise heaped upon you by someone who does not actually want to be with you, but common sense tells me I would be equally terrified of me if I were in his position. I do not know what to do. I never know what to do, and I feel no closer to figuring it out.
It's only been three months, and I'm itching to move again, though there's nowhere in particular I want to go. And I like everyone in SLC. I suppose that means that I am the one I don't like, which is too bad because I really thought I was becoming a better friend to myself. I must have been wrong. 6 months of winter, and I'm trying to get off my pills. Seems like maybe I need to be more unhappy in order to see what I need to do. But maybe it's just my brain. Maybe my brain is just wrong. Science is rather useless to me at the moment. You can't prove a damn thing.
Sang arias at a bar last night. It was sort of nice. Oh, hell, it was really nice -- the nicest thing that's happened to me in quite a while. Yes, I am an approval addict, and yes I would have wanted to die if I had sounded bad or been met with blank stares or awkward throat clearing. But everyone was nice. I did not make eye contact with anyone as that is not my style, but I'll assume no one made a face. It is frustrating to have praise heaped upon you by someone who does not actually want to be with you, but common sense tells me I would be equally terrified of me if I were in his position. I do not know what to do. I never know what to do, and I feel no closer to figuring it out.
It's only been three months, and I'm itching to move again, though there's nowhere in particular I want to go. And I like everyone in SLC. I suppose that means that I am the one I don't like, which is too bad because I really thought I was becoming a better friend to myself. I must have been wrong. 6 months of winter, and I'm trying to get off my pills. Seems like maybe I need to be more unhappy in order to see what I need to do. But maybe it's just my brain. Maybe my brain is just wrong. Science is rather useless to me at the moment. You can't prove a damn thing.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
8
So you want us to love each other
You can make me out of ashes
The trash of my belly laughs
Out of what's left of my boredom
You can doll-face
You can grab me by the hair of my short memory
Hug my night in its empty shirt
Kiss and kiss my echo
And you don't even know how to love
- Vasko Popa as translated by Charles Simic
Monday, August 17, 2009
Actually, you're wrong
After weeks, or years, or possibly forever of trying to be calm about these things, because women are expected to be hysterical and the idea of being thought to be hysterical makes me watch to punch someone in the testicles .... I mean, after let's just say a lifetime of trying to seem well-composed, I am actually fucking livid and may in fact actually be angry enough to say, fuck you, I am appropriately angry. I can get angry too. I can say things I will later regret.
Except that this should not have come as a surprise. Some people cannot tell the truth and some people cannot accurately identify their emotions. And some people are cowards and some people just aren't that into me, which is not a fucking epiphany regardless of what that book says. This would all be fine, except that I don't like being alone because it reminds me of the fact that I feel pointless and am probably one weekend spree away from becoming the filthy mess I already suspect myself of being. So I want to find some kind of prettier mess that reminds me of me, that I might be able to focus on a bit, or hide under for a while except that anyone who seems like me is unhappy like me, is stubborn like me, and is ultimately useless to me because I either can't get close enough, or when I do, the mess is more than I can handle. And I am angry that these are the only options that seem to be available to me. Because, believe me, I would go out with some nice boys if I could, but I can't. It depresses the living hell out of me to be with someone who isn't neurotic, or who is neurotic in the wrong way. I can't do it, and I won't. I'm too tired. I know you can't be tired and angry at the same time, so maybe I'm just tired now. But I am not and never was hysterical, and I will hit anyone who disagrees.
In other news, I live in Utah now. It's actually quite nice here.
Except that this should not have come as a surprise. Some people cannot tell the truth and some people cannot accurately identify their emotions. And some people are cowards and some people just aren't that into me, which is not a fucking epiphany regardless of what that book says. This would all be fine, except that I don't like being alone because it reminds me of the fact that I feel pointless and am probably one weekend spree away from becoming the filthy mess I already suspect myself of being. So I want to find some kind of prettier mess that reminds me of me, that I might be able to focus on a bit, or hide under for a while except that anyone who seems like me is unhappy like me, is stubborn like me, and is ultimately useless to me because I either can't get close enough, or when I do, the mess is more than I can handle. And I am angry that these are the only options that seem to be available to me. Because, believe me, I would go out with some nice boys if I could, but I can't. It depresses the living hell out of me to be with someone who isn't neurotic, or who is neurotic in the wrong way. I can't do it, and I won't. I'm too tired. I know you can't be tired and angry at the same time, so maybe I'm just tired now. But I am not and never was hysterical, and I will hit anyone who disagrees.
In other news, I live in Utah now. It's actually quite nice here.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
One week left
So, I really am moving to SLC. I'm not going to go into the various arguments I've come up with as to why that is not an insane thing to do. It's not, really. Everyone is leaving San Francisco anyway. No one here has any money, and San Francisco is depressing when you don't have money, or even when you do have money but no one you know has any money so you have to feel guilty when you consider buying a $75 purse made from organic cotton (i didn't buy it, by the way, but only because I somehow convinced myself that I could make one for about$1.50, which I maybe could if I cared to learn to use my sewing machine, but I don't really). I am, of course, sad about leaving the friends I have here in SF, but I'm always sad about something. If SLC is a disaster, I think it will at least be an interesting disaster.
Mum is arriving shortly to assist with packing and driving the Uhaul. And this evening we are hosting Wendy's birthday whatnot here at the apt. Tomorrow I guess packing begins in earnest. I am trying not to be too melancholy about leaving. Mostly I am happy, but if I sit still for very long, I do have a slight feeling of impending doom. I think that is normal though. Georgia, of course, has no idea. She is snoring peacefully and making little gurgley noises. She will miss the chicken bones, but she'll be gaining a yard, and yards are nice things to have.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
No more sad songs!
Hey! Remember me? No? Okay, just thought I'd ask.
Spent part of last week in Salt Lake City, which is currently the most likely place that I'll relocating to in August. I've gotten an unbelievable amount of shit about this -- apparently people are personally offended that I would even consider such a thing, but, you know, I can't make everyone happy. And, to be frank, a lot of the efforts I've made in the past to try to make other people happy seemed to backfire, or have cost me a lot of money, so enough already. I want to move to Utah, and I am presumably in a position where I can do so (pending approval from work, or a decision to finally quit this job of mine). I think my plan is to spring the Utah thing on my manager in the morning and then promptly flit off to Italy for two weeks and see if I have a job when I get back. Does it make more sense to wait until I get back? I may not be thinking straight. I've been spending a lot of time with my laptop this weekend and writing a lot of pointless (POINTLESS) reports, so I may be a bit muddy-headed. I assume I will be able to keep my job in Utah. I also assume I won't want to keep it, but there's something to be said for sticking with it at least until I have some sort of grad school/career/living-on-a-commune plan arranged. So, so, so.... that's what I will do.
I wish I was more excited about Italy, but right now it's hard to imagine being able to get out of the ghastly nest of work I've surrounded myself with. I suppose if I just leave without finishing it all, they will just have to decide whether or not to fire me. That would not be so bad. Even if I couldn't get unemployment -- I have been saving saving money for just such an ocassion, I suppose. But I probably won't get fired. I will just get dozens of emails asking me where my work is, and when I get home from Italy my inbox will be overflowing and I will hopefully be so very well-rested that it won't even bother me. Ahaha. Although things always seem to bother me, but I would like to work on that.
On an unrelated note, all of my Pandora stations seem to be 95% depressing music. What's up with that? Oh, except now it's playing "Daydream Believer". That's just funny. Also I wish I'd bothered to learn from Italian. Oh wells.
Spent part of last week in Salt Lake City, which is currently the most likely place that I'll relocating to in August. I've gotten an unbelievable amount of shit about this -- apparently people are personally offended that I would even consider such a thing, but, you know, I can't make everyone happy. And, to be frank, a lot of the efforts I've made in the past to try to make other people happy seemed to backfire, or have cost me a lot of money, so enough already. I want to move to Utah, and I am presumably in a position where I can do so (pending approval from work, or a decision to finally quit this job of mine). I think my plan is to spring the Utah thing on my manager in the morning and then promptly flit off to Italy for two weeks and see if I have a job when I get back. Does it make more sense to wait until I get back? I may not be thinking straight. I've been spending a lot of time with my laptop this weekend and writing a lot of pointless (POINTLESS) reports, so I may be a bit muddy-headed. I assume I will be able to keep my job in Utah. I also assume I won't want to keep it, but there's something to be said for sticking with it at least until I have some sort of grad school/career/living-on-a-commune plan arranged. So, so, so.... that's what I will do.
I wish I was more excited about Italy, but right now it's hard to imagine being able to get out of the ghastly nest of work I've surrounded myself with. I suppose if I just leave without finishing it all, they will just have to decide whether or not to fire me. That would not be so bad. Even if I couldn't get unemployment -- I have been saving saving money for just such an ocassion, I suppose. But I probably won't get fired. I will just get dozens of emails asking me where my work is, and when I get home from Italy my inbox will be overflowing and I will hopefully be so very well-rested that it won't even bother me. Ahaha. Although things always seem to bother me, but I would like to work on that.
On an unrelated note, all of my Pandora stations seem to be 95% depressing music. What's up with that? Oh, except now it's playing "Daydream Believer". That's just funny. Also I wish I'd bothered to learn from Italian. Oh wells.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Good luck with that
It's easy enough to decide that you don't want to continue doing what you're doing, but it's another thing entirely to try to figure out what you're supposed to be doing instead. I'm about 75% sure that I don't want to stay in San Francisco, but then again I've only ever lived in the Mission and maybe there are other neighborhoods that would suit me better? Oakland even seems preferrable right now -- I need to be paying less rent, obviously, but I'd also like less craziness, I think. I don't need to be surrounded by bars and awesome people. Sometimes I want something a little quieter.
California is a big state, so if I wanted to stay here, I suppose I could find a slightly calmer spot. I always have a good time in Monterey, and I like the fact that people have sand instead of grass for their yards there. Grass is kind of dumb anyway. But I would need a car if I moved out of the city, I think. Or if I move back to Ohio, or if I move to a swamp in the South. So I probably need a car.
Reasons not to leave SF include the handful of friends I have here, and my bookclub. Oh, and Thinking Beard Press, if that gets off the ground. But I could teleconference in for the board meetings. Grumbles. I really don't know. I can't make a fucking plan to save my life. This is what killed Hamlet, right? I'm turning 28 on Friday. I was going to take the day off and ponder my existence, but I think that might actually be a horrible idea. I'll just read a book or something.
California is a big state, so if I wanted to stay here, I suppose I could find a slightly calmer spot. I always have a good time in Monterey, and I like the fact that people have sand instead of grass for their yards there. Grass is kind of dumb anyway. But I would need a car if I moved out of the city, I think. Or if I move back to Ohio, or if I move to a swamp in the South. So I probably need a car.
Reasons not to leave SF include the handful of friends I have here, and my bookclub. Oh, and Thinking Beard Press, if that gets off the ground. But I could teleconference in for the board meetings. Grumbles. I really don't know. I can't make a fucking plan to save my life. This is what killed Hamlet, right? I'm turning 28 on Friday. I was going to take the day off and ponder my existence, but I think that might actually be a horrible idea. I'll just read a book or something.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Ugghs
Boo to this weekend. I told myself I'd get caught up on work, at least on telephone monitoring reports, but I did considerably less than I should have done, and I still feel fairly crappy about life. Here is what you need to know about telephone monitoring reports: Technically they need to be done, but no one will ever, ever read them. So I should just write some shit down, print and sign, repeat 250 times, and be done with it. But for some stupid reason I can't. I'm not saying I'm putting a lot of work into them, but I am putting some. Which means I finished 56 reports this weekend instead of 100. Which, actually, for me isn't all that bad. But I feel just as buried as I did last week, if not more so. And I don't know what I'm doing. I think my plan to move back to Ohio might just be running away, but if I was running away when I moved out here in the first place, does that mean the smart thing to do is to run back? Is there a smart thing to do? If I were smart, clearly I would know.
Paul wants to start a publishing company, and I am all about that idea. I don't even care if it's a bad idea, since technically it is not my idea and therefore I can throw myself behind it wholeheartedly without those little nagging voices telling me that all of my ideas are doomed to failure. I realized today that I still can't really drive a car like a normal person. Possibly I am just out of practice since I drive very rarely, but I was trying to drive to Ocean Beach and I suddenly became aware that I had made some wrong turns and it seemed like the best thing to do would be to pull over, leave the car, and throw myself under a bus. I didn't, mostly because it wasn't my car and because I have gotten explicit instructions from my mother that I am NOT to kill myself in a fit of crazy. But it did bother me. I was always a nervous driver, but the "I am too dysfunctional to operate a motor vehicle, therefore I should kill myself" thing didn't really start until after college. I thought the SSRIs had mostly beaten it into submission, but apparently it's still there. I'm being stupid. I'm sure that I won't actually kill myself; I'm barely even depressed, but for some reason my brain always snaps to that, like, "Well, this isn't working -- what are my other options again? I can't think of any. Let's end it!" What am I, 14?
In other, other news -- this sociopathic drug addict I used to date seems to have gotten married. So there's someone out there for everyone. Actually, he claimed not to be a sociopath, but, as I pointed out, that's exactly what a sociopath would say. Of course the fact that someone who doesn't seem like a trainwreck married him makes me wonder if he suddenly stopped being awful shortly after we broke up. That would be my luck. Anyway, this fucks with my whole idea of relationship karma because I would have thought he'd be single for at least 17 years after the shit he put me through. But he's not. So, I'm going to start emotionally abusing people and see if I might be able to get hitched by 2010. Oh, who am I kidding?
Damnit, I need to start writing a book. Somebody give me something to work with, will you?
Paul wants to start a publishing company, and I am all about that idea. I don't even care if it's a bad idea, since technically it is not my idea and therefore I can throw myself behind it wholeheartedly without those little nagging voices telling me that all of my ideas are doomed to failure. I realized today that I still can't really drive a car like a normal person. Possibly I am just out of practice since I drive very rarely, but I was trying to drive to Ocean Beach and I suddenly became aware that I had made some wrong turns and it seemed like the best thing to do would be to pull over, leave the car, and throw myself under a bus. I didn't, mostly because it wasn't my car and because I have gotten explicit instructions from my mother that I am NOT to kill myself in a fit of crazy. But it did bother me. I was always a nervous driver, but the "I am too dysfunctional to operate a motor vehicle, therefore I should kill myself" thing didn't really start until after college. I thought the SSRIs had mostly beaten it into submission, but apparently it's still there. I'm being stupid. I'm sure that I won't actually kill myself; I'm barely even depressed, but for some reason my brain always snaps to that, like, "Well, this isn't working -- what are my other options again? I can't think of any. Let's end it!" What am I, 14?
In other, other news -- this sociopathic drug addict I used to date seems to have gotten married. So there's someone out there for everyone. Actually, he claimed not to be a sociopath, but, as I pointed out, that's exactly what a sociopath would say. Of course the fact that someone who doesn't seem like a trainwreck married him makes me wonder if he suddenly stopped being awful shortly after we broke up. That would be my luck. Anyway, this fucks with my whole idea of relationship karma because I would have thought he'd be single for at least 17 years after the shit he put me through. But he's not. So, I'm going to start emotionally abusing people and see if I might be able to get hitched by 2010. Oh, who am I kidding?
Damnit, I need to start writing a book. Somebody give me something to work with, will you?
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Yes, I Can
In a bit of a fog after a night of heavy drinking. Apparently I ended up posting a missed connection on craigslist trying to apologize to a guy that I attemped to talk to but ended up just making an ass of myself. So I decided to make an ass of myself again by writing a weird an rambling apology on craigslist. I deleted it this morning, so hopefully only other drunks read it last night.
On the upside, Megan and I went dancing, which I haven't done in ages. That's the real reason I was drunk, not the wedding. I drank at the wedding, but I like to think that I kept it reasonable. But I had to get really drunk in order to dance. Dancing is just one of the many things I sort of enjoy doing (or would enjoy doing if I could do it with some competency), that I usually avoid for fear of looking stupid. The problem with this kind of attitude is that I am almost 30 years old and I don't really know how to do much of anything because I've been too frustrated with my initial fumbling attempts. I'm not happy about this, and I think it has made me rather a dull person, so I'm going to try to put a stop to it. I'm going to try to learn to do things. If practice doesn't make perfect, then I will practice until I can at least say I gave it my best. And then I can quit and never speak of it again, I guess, but maybe I'll feel like less of a coward at least.
So here's a preliminary list of things I can't do that I might, potentially, like to be able to do:
1. Ride a Bike -- I know, I know -- I actually used to be able to do this, but forgot when I was about 11. It's very embarassing to try to re-learn as an adult, which explains why I've only tried about twice for five minutes apiece
2. Salsa Dance --When Megan and I went out dancing last night, a salsa song came on and my dance partner said to me, "So, you don't like dance?" Suggesting I guess that anyone who liked to dance would be better at it.
3. Roller Skate -- This would have been a useful skill to have when I was in grade school and kept being invited to roller skating parties. I always went and I always fell on my ass four or five times, and then spent the rest of the evening clinging to the wall. This will not come naturally to me, I know that. And it's not a skill I could show off often, but I'm okay with that.
4. Bake Bread -- I know I'm gluten-intolerant, but bread is still the one food I most want to make
5. Knit -- Again, I've tried this a few times and found it very frustrating. But everyone loves scarves, and all hippies must knit so this is non-negotiable.
6. Use a Sewing Machine -- Same as above. Also, I want to make my own clothes because I hate clothing stores and don't want to spend any time in them ever again.
7. Do a Cartwheel
8. Juggle -- Ever since meeting a bunch of clowns, this totally makes sense to me. I'd want to ride a unicycle too, but I need to get two wheels down first.
9. Play Piano -- just a little would be fine
10. Play Guitar --for sing-a-long purposes
11. Sight-read Music
12. Play Tennis -- just well enough to not annoy players on neighboring courts
13. Speak Another Language at least marginally well
14. Talk about Art without feeling dumb
15. Climb a Tree
I don't have a plan yet for accomplishing any of these things yet, but I thought a list would help. I was considering picking one item per week and working it for the length of that week, but obviously many of these things could take more than a week to conquer. Also none of them seem like the thing that I want to start with. It's too hot right now to think about knitting or baking. I will have access to a guitar this next week though, so I guess I will start with that one. #10. I'm also open to further suggestions in case there's anything anyone else might feel I lack as a human being.... obviously constructive criticisms are fine, but let's keep things friendly, shall we?
On the upside, Megan and I went dancing, which I haven't done in ages. That's the real reason I was drunk, not the wedding. I drank at the wedding, but I like to think that I kept it reasonable. But I had to get really drunk in order to dance. Dancing is just one of the many things I sort of enjoy doing (or would enjoy doing if I could do it with some competency), that I usually avoid for fear of looking stupid. The problem with this kind of attitude is that I am almost 30 years old and I don't really know how to do much of anything because I've been too frustrated with my initial fumbling attempts. I'm not happy about this, and I think it has made me rather a dull person, so I'm going to try to put a stop to it. I'm going to try to learn to do things. If practice doesn't make perfect, then I will practice until I can at least say I gave it my best. And then I can quit and never speak of it again, I guess, but maybe I'll feel like less of a coward at least.
So here's a preliminary list of things I can't do that I might, potentially, like to be able to do:
1. Ride a Bike -- I know, I know -- I actually used to be able to do this, but forgot when I was about 11. It's very embarassing to try to re-learn as an adult, which explains why I've only tried about twice for five minutes apiece
2. Salsa Dance --When Megan and I went out dancing last night, a salsa song came on and my dance partner said to me, "So, you don't like dance?" Suggesting I guess that anyone who liked to dance would be better at it.
3. Roller Skate -- This would have been a useful skill to have when I was in grade school and kept being invited to roller skating parties. I always went and I always fell on my ass four or five times, and then spent the rest of the evening clinging to the wall. This will not come naturally to me, I know that. And it's not a skill I could show off often, but I'm okay with that.
4. Bake Bread -- I know I'm gluten-intolerant, but bread is still the one food I most want to make
5. Knit -- Again, I've tried this a few times and found it very frustrating. But everyone loves scarves, and all hippies must knit so this is non-negotiable.
6. Use a Sewing Machine -- Same as above. Also, I want to make my own clothes because I hate clothing stores and don't want to spend any time in them ever again.
7. Do a Cartwheel
8. Juggle -- Ever since meeting a bunch of clowns, this totally makes sense to me. I'd want to ride a unicycle too, but I need to get two wheels down first.
9. Play Piano -- just a little would be fine
10. Play Guitar --for sing-a-long purposes
11. Sight-read Music
12. Play Tennis -- just well enough to not annoy players on neighboring courts
13. Speak Another Language at least marginally well
14. Talk about Art without feeling dumb
15. Climb a Tree
I don't have a plan yet for accomplishing any of these things yet, but I thought a list would help. I was considering picking one item per week and working it for the length of that week, but obviously many of these things could take more than a week to conquer. Also none of them seem like the thing that I want to start with. It's too hot right now to think about knitting or baking. I will have access to a guitar this next week though, so I guess I will start with that one. #10. I'm also open to further suggestions in case there's anything anyone else might feel I lack as a human being.... obviously constructive criticisms are fine, but let's keep things friendly, shall we?
Friday, April 17, 2009
We Can Work It Out
Wendy and Adrian are getting married tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it, but I know I will cry at the ceremony, because I always cry at weddings, and I am always a little unsure whether it's all because I am moved by the public expression of love and trust, or whether some part of me is crying because I expect to die alone. That is a weird thing to say. If I'm dead, why would I care if I'm alone? It's living alone that would be the problem.
I don't see myself getting married, but I do have a lot of thoughts about music. Like, I'd have kareoke at my reception, no question. I'd have it at the ceremony, maybe. Lately I've been wanting to sing "Nobody Does It Better" by Carly Simon from "The Spy Who Loved Me". I know not everyone likes Carly Simon, and it may limit my options in terms of a groom, but I really think it's a lovely song. I don't think Wendy and Adrian have a song, but I've offered some stupid suggestions, as I tend to do in most situations.
It is strange how events like this make me feel a bit like I am in suspended animation. I see things happening in other people's lives, important and wonderful things, and I look at my life and it doesn't seem like anything ever really happens except for small and random things. I suppose that's not true, but it feels that way. And I feel like i can't make any changes until I somehow have the time set aside to make them. Like, nothing can happen when I'm working, because work eats every hour. But not much can happen on the weekends either because there are social engagements (sometimes), and I feel I need to catch up on sleep. I really do hope that things are different this summer. I'm not sure how I will avoid feeling like a worthless bum when i quit my job, but I have to believe it's possible. More New Age positive affirmations and what-not in the morning. Need to walk my dog and sleep off this champagne.
I don't see myself getting married, but I do have a lot of thoughts about music. Like, I'd have kareoke at my reception, no question. I'd have it at the ceremony, maybe. Lately I've been wanting to sing "Nobody Does It Better" by Carly Simon from "The Spy Who Loved Me". I know not everyone likes Carly Simon, and it may limit my options in terms of a groom, but I really think it's a lovely song. I don't think Wendy and Adrian have a song, but I've offered some stupid suggestions, as I tend to do in most situations.
It is strange how events like this make me feel a bit like I am in suspended animation. I see things happening in other people's lives, important and wonderful things, and I look at my life and it doesn't seem like anything ever really happens except for small and random things. I suppose that's not true, but it feels that way. And I feel like i can't make any changes until I somehow have the time set aside to make them. Like, nothing can happen when I'm working, because work eats every hour. But not much can happen on the weekends either because there are social engagements (sometimes), and I feel I need to catch up on sleep. I really do hope that things are different this summer. I'm not sure how I will avoid feeling like a worthless bum when i quit my job, but I have to believe it's possible. More New Age positive affirmations and what-not in the morning. Need to walk my dog and sleep off this champagne.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Strange Magic
I guess I was a lonely kid because I used to talk to myself a lot, tell myself stories, interview myself. I still would, but I'm a little more self-conscious these days. That's something I'm going to work on, I think, but it may be a while before I talk to myself in public. In the meantime, I'm going to chat myself up in text format for a bit. For clarity's sake, let's say I am a chimera made up for a Good Twin (Stacy) and an Evil Twin (Tracy). Chimeras are more interesting than multiple personalities, which are fake.
Stacy: So, we haven't heard much from you lately. What have you been up to?
Tracy: Listening to ELO.
S: Electric Light Orchestra?
T: Yes.
S (Clearly not really interested): That's interesting.
T: Whatever. Indie music has never done anything for me except make my cry in public and mistakenly believe that my neuroses are socially acceptable.
S: Oh, wah, hipsters don't like you because you can't wear tapered jeans and never had a radio show. Boo hoos.
T: Hey, you're supposed to be the Good Twin.
S: If I was being the Bad Twin, I'd punch you. So apart from ELO?
T: I got dumped a while ago for not being fun enough.
S: That's awesome. I bet you really enjoy telling that story.
T: It's true. I do.
S: Do you think people get uncomfortable when you make fun of yourself?
T: I hope not. It's a defense mechanism. If I got rid of it, I might need to buy a gun. Or social skills.
S: Ba-dum-ching. Have you thought about being more fun?
T: Yeah, I've thought about it. I think I have to quit my job before I can be fun.
S: That's your answer for everything.
T: Well, it hasn't been disproved yet.
S: So you're going to quit your job.
T: Yep yep.
S: Okay. Let me know how that goes. And please do work on becoming more fun.
T: Right-o. Will do.
Stacy: So, we haven't heard much from you lately. What have you been up to?
Tracy: Listening to ELO.
S: Electric Light Orchestra?
T: Yes.
S (Clearly not really interested): That's interesting.
T: Whatever. Indie music has never done anything for me except make my cry in public and mistakenly believe that my neuroses are socially acceptable.
S: Oh, wah, hipsters don't like you because you can't wear tapered jeans and never had a radio show. Boo hoos.
T: Hey, you're supposed to be the Good Twin.
S: If I was being the Bad Twin, I'd punch you. So apart from ELO?
T: I got dumped a while ago for not being fun enough.
S: That's awesome. I bet you really enjoy telling that story.
T: It's true. I do.
S: Do you think people get uncomfortable when you make fun of yourself?
T: I hope not. It's a defense mechanism. If I got rid of it, I might need to buy a gun. Or social skills.
S: Ba-dum-ching. Have you thought about being more fun?
T: Yeah, I've thought about it. I think I have to quit my job before I can be fun.
S: That's your answer for everything.
T: Well, it hasn't been disproved yet.
S: So you're going to quit your job.
T: Yep yep.
S: Okay. Let me know how that goes. And please do work on becoming more fun.
T: Right-o. Will do.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
now what?
My online writing course ends tonight at midnight, and I'm sorry to say, I'm glad to be done with it. The reason I wanted to take the class was to help me prepare for applying to grad school, revising stories and writing new ones, meeting deadlines that I actually care about, etc. But in the course of the class I basically decided I don't think I'm cut out for an MFA program, and getting a Master's or a PhD (gasp) in School Psych seems much more reasonable, not to mention career-oriented and all that shit. We had to write a post along the lines of "what I learned from thsi class", and I basically said that I learned that I don't want to apply to MFA programs for 2010. Writers are supposed to write, and I mostly don't, even when I have deadlines. Of course, I did write in college, but college was different and my life wasn't as cluttered and confusing back then -- plus I just didn't want to look stupid in front of my professors and classmates. Is that a good reason to write? I'm thinking it isn't.
In response to my post about the fact that I'm not going to try for an MFA, the professor for the online class said that when you're in an MFA program, part of the great thing about that is that you have the time to write, and she hopes I'll reconsider. She did not say anything I didn't already know -- The fact that being in an MFA programs gives you an excuse to be focused on your writing to a degree that would lead to joblessness, homelessness, and insanity in another setting was always part of the appeal to me. So she didn't say anything I didn't know, and I really have been thinking about this, and I really think I could be happy as a school psychologist (okay, not "happy" maybe, but happier).... I have thought about this! I could still get an MFA later, once I've constructed some kind of functional sort of life for myself. I was convinced! Until this woman I've never met said she hopes I'll reconsider.
This is the problem with me* (*note: not the only problem). I put too much stock into what other people think or say to me. I always have. I do the things I do because I've gotten positive feedback from people for doing them. I try to avoid doing things that might lead to negative feedback. This is maybe not abnormal, but I may have taken it somewhere sort of pathological. I intended to stop writing after SCPA told me in 9th grade that my writing submission sucked. I only started writing again because I got placed in a journalism class in 10th grade and somewhat made the mistake of telling me my writing was good. You can't tell me I am good at things! it prevents me from thinking clearly! And if you tell me I'm bad at something.... well, that's dangerous too because I can't deal with that shit at all.
So, now I don't know. I think I could probably apply for a few writing programs, a few school psych programs, and maybe a couple of teaching programs as a back-up, and then just see where I get accepted. It sounds exhausting, but it prevents me from having to make a decision, which I suck at. I want to get on with all of this stuff, but I still have a job. And an apartment that costs too much and is full of stuff. Need to get rid of the stuff. Need to get rid of the job. Need to get to it.
In response to my post about the fact that I'm not going to try for an MFA, the professor for the online class said that when you're in an MFA program, part of the great thing about that is that you have the time to write, and she hopes I'll reconsider. She did not say anything I didn't already know -- The fact that being in an MFA programs gives you an excuse to be focused on your writing to a degree that would lead to joblessness, homelessness, and insanity in another setting was always part of the appeal to me. So she didn't say anything I didn't know, and I really have been thinking about this, and I really think I could be happy as a school psychologist (okay, not "happy" maybe, but happier).... I have thought about this! I could still get an MFA later, once I've constructed some kind of functional sort of life for myself. I was convinced! Until this woman I've never met said she hopes I'll reconsider.
This is the problem with me* (*note: not the only problem). I put too much stock into what other people think or say to me. I always have. I do the things I do because I've gotten positive feedback from people for doing them. I try to avoid doing things that might lead to negative feedback. This is maybe not abnormal, but I may have taken it somewhere sort of pathological. I intended to stop writing after SCPA told me in 9th grade that my writing submission sucked. I only started writing again because I got placed in a journalism class in 10th grade and somewhat made the mistake of telling me my writing was good. You can't tell me I am good at things! it prevents me from thinking clearly! And if you tell me I'm bad at something.... well, that's dangerous too because I can't deal with that shit at all.
So, now I don't know. I think I could probably apply for a few writing programs, a few school psych programs, and maybe a couple of teaching programs as a back-up, and then just see where I get accepted. It sounds exhausting, but it prevents me from having to make a decision, which I suck at. I want to get on with all of this stuff, but I still have a job. And an apartment that costs too much and is full of stuff. Need to get rid of the stuff. Need to get rid of the job. Need to get to it.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Nothing new
Whenever I'm in Ohio, I find myself wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life. My mother seems to really be enjoying her job at the elementary school in Cheviot. Or, not always enjoying it, but she feels like she's making a difference in the lives of some kids who are dealing with some pretty crappy odds at the moment. I am a horrible pessimist, and I do think our society is pretty much doomed, and I don't really believe in procreation because I don't think there's any way we can leave our children with a planet that isn't completely fucked and uninhabitable... but of course other people are still having kids. And I may be wrong about things.
I don't know what the hell I should be doing. I know what I am currently doing feels completely pointless, for sure, and doing anything else seems really hard. Grad school in Creative Writing is still the thing I say I will do, but I'm wondering if becoming a school psychologist or a teacher or a social worker would be more rewarding. Or, um, more possible. Ten years ago I said I wanted to be a social worker on an Indian reservation. It was kind of a ridiculous thing to say, except... umm... you know, I meant it. That is what I wanted to do. I'm sure social work is depressing, but so is doing something you don't care about at all. God, I'm sick of thinking about what I should be doing and everything that's preventing me from doing it. I want to quit my job, but I feel like I don't have a right to until I actually have the nervous breakdown I've been threatening was imminent for all these years. This is really frustrating. I am very annoyed with myself right now.
I don't know what the hell I should be doing. I know what I am currently doing feels completely pointless, for sure, and doing anything else seems really hard. Grad school in Creative Writing is still the thing I say I will do, but I'm wondering if becoming a school psychologist or a teacher or a social worker would be more rewarding. Or, um, more possible. Ten years ago I said I wanted to be a social worker on an Indian reservation. It was kind of a ridiculous thing to say, except... umm... you know, I meant it. That is what I wanted to do. I'm sure social work is depressing, but so is doing something you don't care about at all. God, I'm sick of thinking about what I should be doing and everything that's preventing me from doing it. I want to quit my job, but I feel like I don't have a right to until I actually have the nervous breakdown I've been threatening was imminent for all these years. This is really frustrating. I am very annoyed with myself right now.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
restlessness
Feels like grad school is on the back-burner at the moment. Work has gotten out of control again, and I am having a hard time doing anything other than sleeping. Which is not to say that I am depressed. I am not depressed. I am relatively happy, but I require sleep. Lots of sleep. And my job requires me to be awake. So you see my dilemma. And the online writing course I'm taking is almost entirely a bust. Book club is fun though. Maybe my career goal should be to do something that's like Book Club instead of teaching writing classes. What job is like Book Club though?
My dog and I are restless. She is turning around in circles on my bed and chewing on my comforter. I am endlessly daydreaming about quitting my job and checking my gmail 83 times a day. I hate to see us like this.
My dog and I are restless. She is turning around in circles on my bed and chewing on my comforter. I am endlessly daydreaming about quitting my job and checking my gmail 83 times a day. I hate to see us like this.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Overheard at a Party in the year 2000
So I have an assignment for my writing class to eavesdrop and transcribe a conversation that I've overheard. Unfortunately, everyone around here talks faster than I can write. I did my best to scribble down people's conversations when I went to dinner, but it was pointless and I didn't get anything I could use. However, I did find a tape recorder that I apparently used to record audio from a gathering in my dorm room in sophomore year of college. It's probably not what my professor had in mind, but it's so much funnier than anything that anyone at the restaurant was saying anyway.... Here is some faithfully transcribed dialog from an evening some time in the year 2000. I haven't transcribed my piercing cackles which overwhelm some of the dialog, but you'll get the idea (the idea being, I was sort of a moron):
Guy 1: Is K. a snake?
Me: A what?
Guy 1: A snake. Because he sheds his skin, you know?
Me: He has eczema!
Guy 1: Oh, it’s eczema? Oh, okay.
Me: Yep.
Guy 2: Oh I thought you meant like—
Me: --Like a bad person. No, he has eczema. And so does his other roommate. It’s really weird that the two of them have eczema.
Guy 2: What roommate?
Me: Uh, E. has eczema. But I think K’s is worse. It’s pretty hardcore.
Guy 1: Contagious.
Me: No it’s not contagious at all. It’s just weird that they both have it. And they’re from the same hometown.
Guy 1: There must be something in the water.
Me: Definitely. You can get eczema from drinking the water.
Guy 1: Really?
Me: No.
Guy 1: You just lied to me? You lied to me just now?
Me: I lie constantly.
Guy 1: I’ll never trust you again.
Me: Whatever. Like you ever trusted me to begin with.
Guy 1: I trusted you.
Me: Did you?
Guy 1: Yes.
Me: Well that was your first mistake.
Guy 1: No, I made mistakes before that.
Me: Oh.
Guy 1:Would you like a Jolly Rancher? I just found some more. These didn’t used to be in my pocket. These were in somebody else’s pocket and they put them down here.
Guy 2: Oh my god. When will it end with the Jolly Ranchers?
Guy 1: Do you know how many Jolly Ranchers I’ve consumed in the past—
Guy 2: Why are they called Jolly Ranchers?
Guy 1: They make you jolly.
Me: I thought that had to do with pirates? The Jolly Rancher?
Guy 1: The Jolly Rodger.
Me: Oh, right.
Guy 2: Hahah!
Me: Well I knew it was something, somehow pirate related.
Guy 1: Yeah, so like the Jolly Rancher is like a pirate of cattle.
Me: A cattle pirate! (uncontrollable laughing)
Guy 1: Is K. a snake?
Me: A what?
Guy 1: A snake. Because he sheds his skin, you know?
Me: He has eczema!
Guy 1: Oh, it’s eczema? Oh, okay.
Me: Yep.
Guy 2: Oh I thought you meant like—
Me: --Like a bad person. No, he has eczema. And so does his other roommate. It’s really weird that the two of them have eczema.
Guy 2: What roommate?
Me: Uh, E. has eczema. But I think K’s is worse. It’s pretty hardcore.
Guy 1: Contagious.
Me: No it’s not contagious at all. It’s just weird that they both have it. And they’re from the same hometown.
Guy 1: There must be something in the water.
Me: Definitely. You can get eczema from drinking the water.
Guy 1: Really?
Me: No.
Guy 1: You just lied to me? You lied to me just now?
Me: I lie constantly.
Guy 1: I’ll never trust you again.
Me: Whatever. Like you ever trusted me to begin with.
Guy 1: I trusted you.
Me: Did you?
Guy 1: Yes.
Me: Well that was your first mistake.
Guy 1: No, I made mistakes before that.
Me: Oh.
Guy 1:Would you like a Jolly Rancher? I just found some more. These didn’t used to be in my pocket. These were in somebody else’s pocket and they put them down here.
Guy 2: Oh my god. When will it end with the Jolly Ranchers?
Guy 1: Do you know how many Jolly Ranchers I’ve consumed in the past—
Guy 2: Why are they called Jolly Ranchers?
Guy 1: They make you jolly.
Me: I thought that had to do with pirates? The Jolly Rancher?
Guy 1: The Jolly Rodger.
Me: Oh, right.
Guy 2: Hahah!
Me: Well I knew it was something, somehow pirate related.
Guy 1: Yeah, so like the Jolly Rancher is like a pirate of cattle.
Me: A cattle pirate! (uncontrollable laughing)
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
meditating = napping
So I got one of those philosopher/cab driver combos on my way to the Hall of Justice this morning. I like saying Hall of Justice. I don't know that they actually dispense much justice there, and in my experience it was more a hall of sitting around and waiting, but it's sounds extremely important. Didn't the Super Friends have their hide-out in the Hall of Justice? Am I making this up?
Anyway, I was going to take the bus, but it was raining and cold, so I rationalized that it would be worth $11 not to expose myself to the elements (what else was I going to spend that money on? I can't buy sandwiches or pizza anymore, so what else is there for me?). And I'm glad I did because my cab driver was really great. We talked about the weather, and I talked about how the rain makes me sad, and he said it shouldn't because the rain has a consciousness, or is aware of the consciousness of the people around it or something, and it doesn't want me to be sad. Have you heard of this? The driver was telling me about this Japanese researcher, Masuru Emoto, who looked at ice crystals formed in different emotional environments, or when exposed to different words or thoughts or pictures. I like the idea of it, although I don't even want to try to delve into the "science" behind it. It does not change the fact that I don't like walking my dog in the rain, and I don't like the fact that my window is leaking. But we need the rain.
The driver also mentioned his philosophy of living in the present, and the fact that he only works three days a week and spend the rest of his time surfing and hiking and doing whatever he wants. I could never be a cab driver because driving stresses me out, but I have met a few who seemed really content and mentally healthy. I wonder if there's something to that. Maybe I just meet more cab drivers than other types of people. Possibly toll booth workers are similarly self-actualized, but I've just never had the chance to talk to one.
I am feeling crappy about my writing. I am accustomed to taking classes with people who are more well-read than I am, and that seems okay because presumably some day I could "catch up", if I read enough, but since there are also older people taking my online course, they all seem to be quite a bit wiser, more worldly, more insightful than I am. I guess this is the same "what have I done with my life?" topic I've been harping on all week, but it's something I'm having a hard time with. That and my grammar. You can end sentences with prepositions these days, right? Soul searching just seems to make me sleepy. I suppose I am wanting things to be too easy. What I have been doing has been easy, in a way, and maybe it is laziness as much as fear that has prevented me from trying to be happier or pursuing things I want. That's it, I guess. But I have to think I wouldn't be so tired and lazy if there was something worth staying awake for. Something worthwhile for which to stay awake. Never mind.
Joshua taught me about subjunctive today. Not in Russian, but in English. I didn't actually know the rule, I just sort of happened to get it right often enough that no one bothered to correct me. Goals of becoming a writing instructor seem sillier than ever.
Anyway, I was going to take the bus, but it was raining and cold, so I rationalized that it would be worth $11 not to expose myself to the elements (what else was I going to spend that money on? I can't buy sandwiches or pizza anymore, so what else is there for me?). And I'm glad I did because my cab driver was really great. We talked about the weather, and I talked about how the rain makes me sad, and he said it shouldn't because the rain has a consciousness, or is aware of the consciousness of the people around it or something, and it doesn't want me to be sad. Have you heard of this? The driver was telling me about this Japanese researcher, Masuru Emoto, who looked at ice crystals formed in different emotional environments, or when exposed to different words or thoughts or pictures. I like the idea of it, although I don't even want to try to delve into the "science" behind it. It does not change the fact that I don't like walking my dog in the rain, and I don't like the fact that my window is leaking. But we need the rain.
The driver also mentioned his philosophy of living in the present, and the fact that he only works three days a week and spend the rest of his time surfing and hiking and doing whatever he wants. I could never be a cab driver because driving stresses me out, but I have met a few who seemed really content and mentally healthy. I wonder if there's something to that. Maybe I just meet more cab drivers than other types of people. Possibly toll booth workers are similarly self-actualized, but I've just never had the chance to talk to one.
I am feeling crappy about my writing. I am accustomed to taking classes with people who are more well-read than I am, and that seems okay because presumably some day I could "catch up", if I read enough, but since there are also older people taking my online course, they all seem to be quite a bit wiser, more worldly, more insightful than I am. I guess this is the same "what have I done with my life?" topic I've been harping on all week, but it's something I'm having a hard time with. That and my grammar. You can end sentences with prepositions these days, right? Soul searching just seems to make me sleepy. I suppose I am wanting things to be too easy. What I have been doing has been easy, in a way, and maybe it is laziness as much as fear that has prevented me from trying to be happier or pursuing things I want. That's it, I guess. But I have to think I wouldn't be so tired and lazy if there was something worth staying awake for. Something worthwhile for which to stay awake. Never mind.
Joshua taught me about subjunctive today. Not in Russian, but in English. I didn't actually know the rule, I just sort of happened to get it right often enough that no one bothered to correct me. Goals of becoming a writing instructor seem sillier than ever.
Monday, February 9, 2009
jury duty, part II
So I've been called back for jury duty. I was hoping they would forget about me, but they didn't. I'm sort of in a "not interacting with other people" mode right now, and being on a jury doesn't fit into those plans. When I went a month ago I developed a crush on the guy sitting next to me because he was reading Crazyhorse, and had dark hair and some sort of eyes, and I decided he was clever and well-read and probably had a very thin girlfriend with perfectly straight bangs, and he got up and when he came back he didn't sit next to me, so somehow I must have creeped him out despite not talking to him or looking at him except with the very periphery-ist of my peripheral vision. Anyway, all of this took place in about the first 15 minutes, and then I was there for another 4 hours just noticing how grumpy everyone looked, and how sad I was, and how much I wished I had a Crazyhorse of my own. So I'm not going to be attracted to anyone this time because it's just too traumatic. I can't take that kind of rejection. And I'm going to bring something to read instead of a bunch work crap.
I guess I'm also going to try to start "hanging out" again. At least until I get sick of it. The idea of hermitting away was to be more productive, but I just find myself lurking on Facebook and writing stupid blogs and staring at my dog wondering why she looks so sad. So I'll go out and drink a little and then be depressed and hungover and hopefully write. That's what I did in college, so I see no reason why it wouldn't work now.
I guess I'm also going to try to start "hanging out" again. At least until I get sick of it. The idea of hermitting away was to be more productive, but I just find myself lurking on Facebook and writing stupid blogs and staring at my dog wondering why she looks so sad. So I'll go out and drink a little and then be depressed and hungover and hopefully write. That's what I did in college, so I see no reason why it wouldn't work now.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
write what you know?
I just realized I don't know anything about anything. I'm trying to rework some of my old stories and they're so thin and vague. If I can only write what I know, which seems to be the case, I probably should have tried to do some different things with my life these past few years. As it stands, I'm qualified to write from the perspective of a depressed clinical research associate, a depressed college student, or, if I really want to spread my wings, a depressed high school student. I can't remember anything before that, and I can't seem to imagine anything different. I guess I worked in a warehouse for a day or two, and at Papa John's for a while. But still.
I guess it's time to start hanging out with other people and stealing their life stories. I feel bad about it, believe me I do. I dated a guy in high school who worked at a nail polish factory. Doesn't that sound awful? I need to track that guy down and ask him about it. I imagine the fumes are terrible, constant headaches, maybe people fainting? These are the kinds of things I wonder about. Why have I kept the same job for almost 6 years? What terrible planning on my part! I should have been a depressed factory worker, a depressed substitute teacher, a depressed stripper, a depressed barista! I must become more interesting! I must!
I guess it's time to start hanging out with other people and stealing their life stories. I feel bad about it, believe me I do. I dated a guy in high school who worked at a nail polish factory. Doesn't that sound awful? I need to track that guy down and ask him about it. I imagine the fumes are terrible, constant headaches, maybe people fainting? These are the kinds of things I wonder about. Why have I kept the same job for almost 6 years? What terrible planning on my part! I should have been a depressed factory worker, a depressed substitute teacher, a depressed stripper, a depressed barista! I must become more interesting! I must!
bummer, dude
My head has been hurting again. I guess I was sort of hoping I was cured, but no such luck. The weather was nice today and I thought about going to the park, but I just did laundry and slept instead. I guess I was just really hopeful about seeing those weird doctors and taking all these supplements and cutting gluten out of diet and all that. I was just hoping there was some medical reason why my brain never does what I want it to. I guess I'm lucky to be alive now and not like 50 years ago, when my only option would have been electroconvulsive therapy. I've heard it's really not as bad as it sounds though.
Have to workshop a story for my online class in two weeks. I'm planning to revise as old story for the first workshop, but I hope to have something new for the second one. I'm still having trouble writing. I have to get over it though, or else this plan is not going to work. Moving back to Ohio and then not going to grad school would be like double failure. But I am looking forward to being able to go to my 10 year high school reunion and say that I'm unemployed.
Have to workshop a story for my online class in two weeks. I'm planning to revise as old story for the first workshop, but I hope to have something new for the second one. I'm still having trouble writing. I have to get over it though, or else this plan is not going to work. Moving back to Ohio and then not going to grad school would be like double failure. But I am looking forward to being able to go to my 10 year high school reunion and say that I'm unemployed.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Good Point
Okay, Katia made a good point (which I will respond to privately, but I thought I'd respond to it "publicly" first) -- I am being annoying. Actually that's not what she said, but I am. Presumably I am a mostly capable person, in spite of some personality flaws and rejection phobia, and if God exists, s/he/it wants us to be happy (I think), so enough already. I can't really expect people to put up with another year, two years, whatever, of me whining about how much I hate my job and how much I wish I was talented enough to be a writer or whatever I'm whining about. My attitude is making my dog depressed. That's just not right.
So, the plan is important, and following through with the plan is just as important. I am going to move back to Ohio and live at my parents' house while I apply for grad school. There, I said it. I feel better now. And also worse. I really think part of my indecisiveness stems from the fact that I have a really hard time envisioning a positive outcome from anything I do or any decision I make. But that's what therapy and antidepressants are for, I guess.
So, the plan is important, and following through with the plan is just as important. I am going to move back to Ohio and live at my parents' house while I apply for grad school. There, I said it. I feel better now. And also worse. I really think part of my indecisiveness stems from the fact that I have a really hard time envisioning a positive outcome from anything I do or any decision I make. But that's what therapy and antidepressants are for, I guess.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
bad student, bad worker
So my online writing class isn't going badly, per say. But it's not going as I had planned either. I'm enjoying reading the posts from the other students, and the exercises are getting me to think about my stories in slightly different ways, which is a very good thing when your brain has been digging away at the same pointless ditch for five years. So it's all good, but it's just making me sad. I can't do work without feeling like I'm neglecting my writing, and I can't write without feeling like I'm neglecting my work. And I am ALWAYS neglecting my dog, who just sleeps on my bed and looks up expectantly at me whenever I go to get a drink of water. I have no social life, but if I did, I'd be neglecting that as well. Seriously, what am I doing wrong? Other people have a better handle on this, right?
I got a book from the library called Simplify Your Work Life. It's almost square in shape, which does not bode well for it's content, in my experience. Useful books should be rectangular, and have very dull cover art. Paperback is best, because if it's really wise, you'll want to carry it with you, right? So this book is going to suck, but I'll read it anyway, just in case.
I got a book from the library called Simplify Your Work Life. It's almost square in shape, which does not bode well for it's content, in my experience. Useful books should be rectangular, and have very dull cover art. Paperback is best, because if it's really wise, you'll want to carry it with you, right? So this book is going to suck, but I'll read it anyway, just in case.
Fat Azz and the Fatty Azzes
I don't know why, but I think Gabe and I used to talk about a pretend band called Fat Azz and the Fatty Azzes. I might be spelling that wrong. I don't want to be in that band, and by that I mean, I don't want to buy new clothes. There must be some way for me to acquire the kind of depression that makes you not eat instead of the kind of depression that makes you eat. I'm going to look into that while continuing my very sad Wii fitness regimen.
There are not enough hours in the day. When I finally get into a groove where I'm starting to write, or even have coherent thoughts about what I should be writing, I always get derailed by the piles of work and dishes and crap around me. It's constant fucking maintenance, this damn life. I was supposed to have dinner and see a movie with a friendly guy I barely know tonight, but I canceled to stay in and work on my stuff for my online class. And that's fine. I'm having a hard time relating to people right now anyway, and this guy is far too happy and well adjusted and self-actualized and whatever the hell else for me to try to have a normal conversation with him, so it's good that I stayed home. But I should leave the house eventually, is the thing. I should try to interact with people at some point. I can say this is just temporary, but really, how long is it going to last?
Also, I need to kill the television. I keep getting sucked in by these Logo or Lifetime movies that Joshua is watching. Logically I know there is no reason to watch them; they're barely even entertaining. I do sometimes think TV is more addictive than alcohol and most drugs. You could say it's less damaging, but I'd like to see a controlled study to prove it.
There are not enough hours in the day. When I finally get into a groove where I'm starting to write, or even have coherent thoughts about what I should be writing, I always get derailed by the piles of work and dishes and crap around me. It's constant fucking maintenance, this damn life. I was supposed to have dinner and see a movie with a friendly guy I barely know tonight, but I canceled to stay in and work on my stuff for my online class. And that's fine. I'm having a hard time relating to people right now anyway, and this guy is far too happy and well adjusted and self-actualized and whatever the hell else for me to try to have a normal conversation with him, so it's good that I stayed home. But I should leave the house eventually, is the thing. I should try to interact with people at some point. I can say this is just temporary, but really, how long is it going to last?
Also, I need to kill the television. I keep getting sucked in by these Logo or Lifetime movies that Joshua is watching. Logically I know there is no reason to watch them; they're barely even entertaining. I do sometimes think TV is more addictive than alcohol and most drugs. You could say it's less damaging, but I'd like to see a controlled study to prove it.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
grumblecakes
I've been trying to think of something impersonal enough to write about in my blog. My thoughts have turned to my relationship problems, my personality flaws, the question of whether I would regret getting a tubal ligation at my age... all of these issues seem a bit too personal to discuss in writing at the moment, even if my readership only consists of myself and my friend Brian, who will tire of me soon enough (Shout out to Brian, "Yo!").
Preparations for future unemployment are going slowly. I supposedly started following my new budget today, as it is the first of the month. I find myself wondering if I should stay employed up until the moment I go away for grad school (or the moment I find out I haven't been accepted anywhere, at which point, plan "Marijuana in the Mountains" would go into effect, or "Booze on the Beach", or "Heroin Anywhere".... but I digress). I still salivate at the thought of having a few months to just work on writing and not work at a proper job, but this whole economy thing is starting to make me a bit more nervous. Also the trips I'm planning will not be completely free. And do you know how much it costs to eat gluten-free? Too fucking much, that's how much. Peanut-butter and jelly is like a whole different scenario when your bread costs $6 a loaf. Oh look, I'm whining again. Sorry.
Still trying to learn some Russian and some Italian. Still trying to form platonic friendships with men. Still fighting the good fight. At least, I hope it's the good fight.
Preparations for future unemployment are going slowly. I supposedly started following my new budget today, as it is the first of the month. I find myself wondering if I should stay employed up until the moment I go away for grad school (or the moment I find out I haven't been accepted anywhere, at which point, plan "Marijuana in the Mountains" would go into effect, or "Booze on the Beach", or "Heroin Anywhere".... but I digress). I still salivate at the thought of having a few months to just work on writing and not work at a proper job, but this whole economy thing is starting to make me a bit more nervous. Also the trips I'm planning will not be completely free. And do you know how much it costs to eat gluten-free? Too fucking much, that's how much. Peanut-butter and jelly is like a whole different scenario when your bread costs $6 a loaf. Oh look, I'm whining again. Sorry.
Still trying to learn some Russian and some Italian. Still trying to form platonic friendships with men. Still fighting the good fight. At least, I hope it's the good fight.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
working for a living
Oh my. I actually worked a full day today, no goofing off and no Facebook or other distractions. Being onsite is good for that. I do, apparently, still have a little bit of a work ethic, but only for work I don't actually think is particularly important. I guess someone has to do it. I guess.
Joshua has informed me that my Russian lessons will be starting in earnest tomorrow. I honestly can't remember the alphabet. Italian isn't going much better -- I know a handful of words (colors, body parts, and articles of clothing, mostly -- nothing useful). What I actually might need to say in Italian would be "Does this have gluten?" and "Why are you laughing at me?" Of course I'll be happy just to drink wine and read some books. I can eat some tomatoes or something.
I'm still waffling about my plans for travels to Ukraine or wherever else. I suppose I have a few months to figure out what I'm doing, but as I have never actually made my own plans before, it seems a daunting task. The only person who seems willing to make plans for me this time around is my mother, and obviously she is disqualified. Am off to the weird doctor again tomorrow. Perhaps he'll have a new theory, or some new advice that I can ignore. We take what we can get.
Joshua has informed me that my Russian lessons will be starting in earnest tomorrow. I honestly can't remember the alphabet. Italian isn't going much better -- I know a handful of words (colors, body parts, and articles of clothing, mostly -- nothing useful). What I actually might need to say in Italian would be "Does this have gluten?" and "Why are you laughing at me?" Of course I'll be happy just to drink wine and read some books. I can eat some tomatoes or something.
I'm still waffling about my plans for travels to Ukraine or wherever else. I suppose I have a few months to figure out what I'm doing, but as I have never actually made my own plans before, it seems a daunting task. The only person who seems willing to make plans for me this time around is my mother, and obviously she is disqualified. Am off to the weird doctor again tomorrow. Perhaps he'll have a new theory, or some new advice that I can ignore. We take what we can get.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sleep Deprivation Study - 9:40 AM
I didn't make it. Around 5:30AM, I started feeling sick and began to question the wisdom of staying up all night without sleep. I thought I'd take a half an hour nap and then get back to work, but things did not work out as planned. So I'll have to try again sometime, perhaps some time when I am not trying to make progress on work. I think it's probably not that hard to stay up all night reading or watching movies, but trying to work was difficult and I'm not certain my work didn't suffer because of my sleepiness. My brain feels a little foggy now, in fact, but I have to stay up to finish these reports. Bleah.
Sleep Deprivation Study - 4:12 AM
So far so good, but my back is starting to hurt a bit, and Georgia is in my bed sort of taunting me, I think. Or maybe she's just sleeping, but it kind of looks like she's taunting me. Mood is pretty good though, and I'm still being somewhat productive. I was hoping to stay up until 10PM or so today, but that sounds kind of awful.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Sleep Deprivation Study - 10:41 PM
Not officially my bedtime yet, and I'm already tired. This does not bode well. Working always makes me tired though. Just finished a report (yay!). Should probably finish three more by tomorrow, based on what I told my managers, but I'd be happy with two, I think.
Did some flight research for my possible travels in late summer and fall. I guess I'd like to keep the cost under what I'd be paying in rent here, particularly since I will have no income at the time. Oh God, what if I chicken out and just end up in Cincinnati the whole time??? I have to at least go to Ukraine to visit Katia. I insist upon that.
Georgia is eating non-food items again. I found a half-eaten emory board on my bed. There's no way that tastes good. I'll keep looking for tapeworms. It does concern me a bit.
If you stay up all night, are you allowed to eat an extra meal? I hope so, because I'm hungry. I should go to Taco Bell for 4th meal. Except I can't eat flour tortillas. Grumbles.
Did some flight research for my possible travels in late summer and fall. I guess I'd like to keep the cost under what I'd be paying in rent here, particularly since I will have no income at the time. Oh God, what if I chicken out and just end up in Cincinnati the whole time??? I have to at least go to Ukraine to visit Katia. I insist upon that.
Georgia is eating non-food items again. I found a half-eaten emory board on my bed. There's no way that tastes good. I'll keep looking for tapeworms. It does concern me a bit.
If you stay up all night, are you allowed to eat an extra meal? I hope so, because I'm hungry. I should go to Taco Bell for 4th meal. Except I can't eat flour tortillas. Grumbles.
Sleep Deprivation Study
So, I'm actually feeling a little better right now. I've been talking to people about various stupid plans for my future, and some of them are starting to sound less stupid. Alabama and Mississippi are probably off the table, but foreign travel is sounding more feasible, assuming I can save enough money for such an indulgence. Of course it's the weekend, and it's arguably a bit easier to feel optimistic about the future when one is ignoring one's work-related responsibilities. But this is a start, yes?
All that being said, I've been reading up on the use of sleep deprivation in the treatment of depression -- Basically, I think it works for about 60% of depressed individuals, but the effects don't usually last. Although they might last longer when used in combination with medication. I wasn't able to get my hands on a full published study (oh, how I miss you Mudd Library), and this isn't going to be scientific anyway, but I think I'm going to give it a shot. I spend too much time in bed, and I never feel rested anyway, so I'm going to try do without for a night. Or most of a night. I guess we'll see. I have coffee and B-12 and way too much work to do, so I can pretend it's an all-nighter. Although I don't think I've pulled an all-nighter since high school. How odd that I used to stay up all night when it mattered so little. Hopefully I won't go crazy and submit a bunch of nonsensical reports to my bosses in the morning (although that might lead to my termination, which would be a means to the end). Wish me luck, non-existent audience! (and then you say, "Good luck, crazy lady!")
All that being said, I've been reading up on the use of sleep deprivation in the treatment of depression -- Basically, I think it works for about 60% of depressed individuals, but the effects don't usually last. Although they might last longer when used in combination with medication. I wasn't able to get my hands on a full published study (oh, how I miss you Mudd Library), and this isn't going to be scientific anyway, but I think I'm going to give it a shot. I spend too much time in bed, and I never feel rested anyway, so I'm going to try do without for a night. Or most of a night. I guess we'll see. I have coffee and B-12 and way too much work to do, so I can pretend it's an all-nighter. Although I don't think I've pulled an all-nighter since high school. How odd that I used to stay up all night when it mattered so little. Hopefully I won't go crazy and submit a bunch of nonsensical reports to my bosses in the morning (although that might lead to my termination, which would be a means to the end). Wish me luck, non-existent audience! (and then you say, "Good luck, crazy lady!")
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
We prefer the term "opportunities" instead of "weaknesses"
Things that are wrong with me that can (and should) be fixed:
-I can't ride a bike
-I can't cook, or am unwilling to learn
-I know nothing about the state of world politics
-I can only locate a handful of foreign countries on a map
-I can't speak Spanish
-I sometimes forget when to use "lay" and when to use "lie"
-I get winded easily when climbing stairs
-I can't do a handstand
-Or a cartwheel
-Sometimes when I am talking, I have a sudden thought that everyone in the room hates me and thinks I'm an idiot
-When I am around people who are great, instead of thinking, "Wow, these people are great!", I think, "Wow! These people are so much better than I am!"
On another note, I just realized I've had sand in my bra for the past 6 hours or so since being at a playground with Georgia where much dirt and debris was kicked about by excited dogs. I guess having sand in your bra is sort of a good thing. Better than rocks, anyway.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Gluten, You Bastard
It's a damn disgrace to be a Sad Sack when such joyous things are happening in our nation. Maybe it's a triscuits hangover, maybe it's a thirdlife crisis, but I feel like crap today. I really have nothing to say, except that I am giving up on one of the many books on gluten-free living that I borrowed from the library, Gluten-Free Girl: How I Found the Food That Loves Me Back... & How You Can Too (!) by Shauna James Ahern.
Obviously, I was feeling optimistic on the day I picked up the aforementioned book, and it had a sort of nice, warm, yellowy cover that made me feel better about the thought of never eating pizza, pasta, or normal crackers again (except for The Battle of the Triscuits vs. My Intestines yesterday, and we all know how that turned out). Unfortunately the author makes a point of stating at least once (or umpteen times) per chapter that she NEVER FEELS DEPRIVED, and EATS EVEN BETTER NOW THAT SHE HAS FOUND THE JOYS OF GLUTEN-FREE COOKING. And I'm just putting it in CAPS because that's kind of how it sounds in my head when I'm reading it. The author likes to cook and likes to shop and likes to read the ingredients on every product she buys, and to call the product hotlines to double-check, and to discuss the intricacies of her diet with waiters and chefs. And that's GREAT, but I hate cooking, and I think I will probably very soon start hating food entirely if I have to put the amount of thought and energy into every meal that the author seems to think is necessary. And I never got used to having to explain my vegetarianism to people, so now I have to be even more of a pain in the ass to eat with. I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up sitting alone in a room with a bowl of broth, crying.
That being said, the author has Celiac Disease, whereas I guess I am only gluten intolerant, according to the results of my gene test. I will not pretend to understand the difference and will promptly stop acting like I know anything about it once I say: I think I have it not quite as bad as the celiacs. The Gluten-Free Girl says she has never been tempted to eat gluten since finding out that she has celiac disease, and says that to being tempted to eat gluten would be like feeling tempted to drink Drano. Exactly. Except pizza is delicious, and Drano, probably, not as much, and if the movie Heathers is to be believed, drain cleaner is actually deadly, whereas gluten, even in sensitive folks, I think usually just makes the person feel awful for a few days and have some weird poops. This woman is too good. I can't relate.
The prospect of feeling awful should be more of a deterrent though, I guess, and it may be worth asking why exactly I ate half a loaf of baguette on Sunday and half a box of Trisuits on Monday (the truth will set me free!!). Possibly I like feeling awful, or I assume I will feel awful anyway, and gluten is a handy explanation that can prevent me from looking any further for a root cause. Or I love bread, and am uncertain that life without bread is worth living.
If there's a 12-step for bread, I should probably join. Going forward, I will refer to gluten as "smack". I miss smack, but damn it makes me sick.
P.S. I'm not doing a Summary today. No one's reading this anyway, so I only have myself to disappoint. You lazy bitch.
Obviously, I was feeling optimistic on the day I picked up the aforementioned book, and it had a sort of nice, warm, yellowy cover that made me feel better about the thought of never eating pizza, pasta, or normal crackers again (except for The Battle of the Triscuits vs. My Intestines yesterday, and we all know how that turned out). Unfortunately the author makes a point of stating at least once (or umpteen times) per chapter that she NEVER FEELS DEPRIVED, and EATS EVEN BETTER NOW THAT SHE HAS FOUND THE JOYS OF GLUTEN-FREE COOKING. And I'm just putting it in CAPS because that's kind of how it sounds in my head when I'm reading it. The author likes to cook and likes to shop and likes to read the ingredients on every product she buys, and to call the product hotlines to double-check, and to discuss the intricacies of her diet with waiters and chefs. And that's GREAT, but I hate cooking, and I think I will probably very soon start hating food entirely if I have to put the amount of thought and energy into every meal that the author seems to think is necessary. And I never got used to having to explain my vegetarianism to people, so now I have to be even more of a pain in the ass to eat with. I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up sitting alone in a room with a bowl of broth, crying.
That being said, the author has Celiac Disease, whereas I guess I am only gluten intolerant, according to the results of my gene test. I will not pretend to understand the difference and will promptly stop acting like I know anything about it once I say: I think I have it not quite as bad as the celiacs. The Gluten-Free Girl says she has never been tempted to eat gluten since finding out that she has celiac disease, and says that to being tempted to eat gluten would be like feeling tempted to drink Drano. Exactly. Except pizza is delicious, and Drano, probably, not as much, and if the movie Heathers is to be believed, drain cleaner is actually deadly, whereas gluten, even in sensitive folks, I think usually just makes the person feel awful for a few days and have some weird poops. This woman is too good. I can't relate.
The prospect of feeling awful should be more of a deterrent though, I guess, and it may be worth asking why exactly I ate half a loaf of baguette on Sunday and half a box of Trisuits on Monday (the truth will set me free!!). Possibly I like feeling awful, or I assume I will feel awful anyway, and gluten is a handy explanation that can prevent me from looking any further for a root cause. Or I love bread, and am uncertain that life without bread is worth living.
If there's a 12-step for bread, I should probably join. Going forward, I will refer to gluten as "smack". I miss smack, but damn it makes me sick.
P.S. I'm not doing a Summary today. No one's reading this anyway, so I only have myself to disappoint. You lazy bitch.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Nearsightedness
Maybe the most important thing I did today was that I learned that walking around without glasses or contacts allows one to feel aloof without even trying. I can't care about things I can't see. Or anyway, I can't care about hipsters I can't see. This is exciting.
And also told some more people that I'm moving to Alabama to live by a swamp, and am going to grad school in 2010. So now hopefully I will have to actually do those things in order to look like a liar.
And also told some more people that I'm moving to Alabama to live by a swamp, and am going to grad school in 2010. So now hopefully I will have to actually do those things in order to look like a liar.
Triscuits and other bad ideas
Things I've accomplished so far today:
Walked Georgia
Showered
Ruined my gluten-free diet
Emailed two people for work
Bought coveralls on Amazon.com
Things I haven't accomplished yet today, but should have:
Probably too numerous to list
Walked Georgia
Showered
Ruined my gluten-free diet
Emailed two people for work
Bought coveralls on Amazon.com
Things I haven't accomplished yet today, but should have:
Probably too numerous to list
Sunday, January 18, 2009
All the good names were taken
In fact, even "All the Good Names Were Taken" was taken.
Since I do not expect my blog to be much more than a list of the stupid things I'm spending my time doing in an effort to stop hating life, I considered "How Was Your Day?", but that is the name of a blog belonging to someone who used to be on the Real World. There's also already a learnedhelplessness.blogspot.com, which is some sort of religious page, and anyway I give up. Locus of control is another idea I liked from psychology -- You could wiki it to make sure I'm getting this right, but basically people with an internal locus of control are happier than people with an external LoC because people with an internal LoC believe they can control things in their lives and their surroundings; they feel powerful whereas people with an external LoC feel like they are victims of fate, have no real control over their lives or the bad things that they see happening in the world. Or, you know, they're realistic. I think it's pretty obvious where I fall on that spectrum, but, you know, I'm told people can change. People are very excited about the future right now! I could be excited about the future too! I could be happy!
I know unemployment is at some kind of crazy high (7.8%? I should know these things). But I do want to quit my job. Even if it's just for a little while, and then I'd get another one. I want some time to think, but I need to know that I will not sit on the couch and watch VH1 and eat baguettes and brie all the livelong day if I'm unemployed, that I will find some way to be a productive member of society, write a mediocre novel, and find the happiness that has eluded me thus far. Also, I'd like some kind of guarantee that I would get into grad school in the Fall of 2010, but I am told there are no guarantees in life. I think my mother said that. But my mother also said I could move to the mountains and smoke weed if it would make me happy. I know putting this in writing does not prove that she said it, but she did. She said it, and I will remind her that she said it, and she will probably deny it, but that doesn't make it any less true. Unfortunately, I don't like weed, so I don't think it would make me happy. But I don't want to rule anything out right now. Mountains are kind of cool.
So, I'd like to try some new things, make some decisions, and I'd like to have some sort of record of the process, and something to keep me accountable. If I do spend an evening watching "Double Shot at Love" while drinking wine and eating brie and baguette (not gluten-free, tsk, tsk), I'd like to be able to tell myself that I am a lazy idiot who doesn't deserve to be happy. Or, you know, something less harsh but equally motivating. I'd like to have a plan by June, as my living situation will be changing in August, and I will have to decide whether there is some better place for me to be. Like a swamp in Alabama, or a trailer in Arizona.
When I told him I was moving from Cincinnati to San Francisco, Ironshins quoted me that line about, "Wherever you go, there you are." Of course I am the problem, but that doesn't mean that Cincinnati wasn't the problem too. San Francisco can't really be the problem -- everyone f*ing loves it here and you can sunbathe in January. But eventually I will be too old to do stupid things like moving across the country for no good reason. So that's one reason to try someplace new.
Since I do not expect my blog to be much more than a list of the stupid things I'm spending my time doing in an effort to stop hating life, I considered "How Was Your Day?", but that is the name of a blog belonging to someone who used to be on the Real World. There's also already a learnedhelplessness.blogspot.com, which is some sort of religious page, and anyway I give up. Locus of control is another idea I liked from psychology -- You could wiki it to make sure I'm getting this right, but basically people with an internal locus of control are happier than people with an external LoC because people with an internal LoC believe they can control things in their lives and their surroundings; they feel powerful whereas people with an external LoC feel like they are victims of fate, have no real control over their lives or the bad things that they see happening in the world. Or, you know, they're realistic. I think it's pretty obvious where I fall on that spectrum, but, you know, I'm told people can change. People are very excited about the future right now! I could be excited about the future too! I could be happy!
I know unemployment is at some kind of crazy high (7.8%? I should know these things). But I do want to quit my job. Even if it's just for a little while, and then I'd get another one. I want some time to think, but I need to know that I will not sit on the couch and watch VH1 and eat baguettes and brie all the livelong day if I'm unemployed, that I will find some way to be a productive member of society, write a mediocre novel, and find the happiness that has eluded me thus far. Also, I'd like some kind of guarantee that I would get into grad school in the Fall of 2010, but I am told there are no guarantees in life. I think my mother said that. But my mother also said I could move to the mountains and smoke weed if it would make me happy. I know putting this in writing does not prove that she said it, but she did. She said it, and I will remind her that she said it, and she will probably deny it, but that doesn't make it any less true. Unfortunately, I don't like weed, so I don't think it would make me happy. But I don't want to rule anything out right now. Mountains are kind of cool.
So, I'd like to try some new things, make some decisions, and I'd like to have some sort of record of the process, and something to keep me accountable. If I do spend an evening watching "Double Shot at Love" while drinking wine and eating brie and baguette (not gluten-free, tsk, tsk), I'd like to be able to tell myself that I am a lazy idiot who doesn't deserve to be happy. Or, you know, something less harsh but equally motivating. I'd like to have a plan by June, as my living situation will be changing in August, and I will have to decide whether there is some better place for me to be. Like a swamp in Alabama, or a trailer in Arizona.
When I told him I was moving from Cincinnati to San Francisco, Ironshins quoted me that line about, "Wherever you go, there you are." Of course I am the problem, but that doesn't mean that Cincinnati wasn't the problem too. San Francisco can't really be the problem -- everyone f*ing loves it here and you can sunbathe in January. But eventually I will be too old to do stupid things like moving across the country for no good reason. So that's one reason to try someplace new.
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