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)

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.