Yikes, this thing is getting downright depressing when I don't follow up the negative posts with positive (or at least cynical) ones. Definitely leaves a lot to cover between the end of October and now....guess I better get to it.
November was all about those damn applications - which are now done. It feels like that statement should have been followed by a dozen '!' and just as many drinks, but neither happened (sadly). It's more like what happens when you go to light that really big fireworks display that your parents shouldn't have let you buy, but you begged and pleaded and made a general scene till you got it. So now you finally got up the balls to light the damn thing, and the lit fuse went up into the canister and disappeared. Nothing happened. Is it going to explode? Is it a dud? Is it just going to erupt and kill everything in a 3 block radius as soon as you go over to check on it? (Such was my thinking as a child - go figure. I still have all my fingers, though, so that's probably worth something).
Anyway, that's what it feels like. Sort of 'nothing'. It's easier to RE-act to something when there's something to react to. I've recently found this is true with women as well as careers, but I digress. In any event, I'll know 3 months if the fuse lit something and made all my spent money and time worthwhile, or if it's just gonna sit there and smoke.
The other big part of November and December was bracing myself for the all-too familiar feeling of saying goodbye. Lots of friends graduating this winter. Lots of friends getting hitched, too. It's really interesting to say goodbye. It tells a lot about people. I told one person goodbye and they couldn't even say two words back to me - I will never understand or respect that; another person may honestly want to hear what I have to say a month from now and I wouldn't have predicted that at the start of the year. I learned a lot this week.
All in all, the semester went about as I expected. Easy classes were easy, that 4.0 semester still eludes me (but not getting a C was a plus, as well as a gift from God...I must have done ok with those last two tests). I think I did pretty good at making this semester memorable. I did stuff I was too afraid to do a year ago, I made some tough choices and stood by them, I haven't killed my roommate yet, and Nebraska has gone 9-3.
Claims of emotionless attitudes aside, there are a few people I really have grown to love over these 3 short years. People that matter. People that I have to keep talking to. In the end, that's what will define this year.
This theory states: All brain cells have the capacity to put together some really crazy ideas. Most are ignored by better judgment. The rest ends up here.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Postgame Overreaction - the 'God Damn it I freaking told you so!!!!' edition
Well. THAT was a nice little implosion, wasn't it?
(you either know what I'm going to be talking about, or you don't. Either way, it's gonna be a funny post, if:
A) you're as cynical as me, and/or
B) you're not one of the people I TOLD SO.
All other applicants: sorry, this post is more about you than it is for you.
And for the record, I realize this point in my life may have a fair number of anomalies in it; things that wouldn't normally happen simply because the crazy little microcosm that is college doesn't go on forever. I do realize (tho have never felt) certain pressures that this campus lends itself towards (like dating). Everyone can stop bitching about them. We all know peer pressure exists.
We're also adults. So deal with it.
I know certain things are easier to do in college - be immature, make friends, make memories, and get infatuated. But all that isn't worth the time it's taking up if perspective is completely thrown out the door. And that's where my hunches apparently come into play.
When that voice in your head is the only opinion you're NOT listening to, heads up jackass, because it's gonna be a bumpy ride. I was lucky enough to survive emotionally intact, mostly because everyone assumes I'm a heartless jerk with no emotions, but also because God will keep me going through every stumbling mess I make, and builds me up like there's no tomorrow.
God made me pretty self-sufficient. I'm pretty confident that I need NO ONE that I don't already have, so 'don't worry about me' has become my new most common saying. The messes I make are the ones I deal with, and I have dealt. The only difference is that I can speak my mind when necessary, possibly risking personal pain for the sake of the pain of others. But self-proclaimed humility isn't worth the pixels it's typed with, so take it for what it's worth.
Moving on.
Anyway. I have neglected this venting tool for a while, and as you can see, a lot has happened in the last few months. Took the GRE. Did not do that great. Might have to take it again. Collective 'ugh' on that one.
Classes are ok for the most part. Genetics has this nasty knack for forcing me to really bring out my best effort all the time.
DAMN I am such a procrastinating idiot...I have got to get these grad school apps done soon! Can't wait till second semester when this headache will be over...regardless of where I get accepted.
Certain music albums are getting me through these weeks of my life, and I am grateful that God has given me that outlet to be relieved of stress through passively listening. Might write about that next, actually...
(you either know what I'm going to be talking about, or you don't. Either way, it's gonna be a funny post, if:
A) you're as cynical as me, and/or
B) you're not one of the people I TOLD SO.
All other applicants: sorry, this post is more about you than it is for you.
And for the record, I realize this point in my life may have a fair number of anomalies in it; things that wouldn't normally happen simply because the crazy little microcosm that is college doesn't go on forever. I do realize (tho have never felt) certain pressures that this campus lends itself towards (like dating). Everyone can stop bitching about them. We all know peer pressure exists.
We're also adults. So deal with it.
I know certain things are easier to do in college - be immature, make friends, make memories, and get infatuated. But all that isn't worth the time it's taking up if perspective is completely thrown out the door. And that's where my hunches apparently come into play.
When that voice in your head is the only opinion you're NOT listening to, heads up jackass, because it's gonna be a bumpy ride. I was lucky enough to survive emotionally intact, mostly because everyone assumes I'm a heartless jerk with no emotions, but also because God will keep me going through every stumbling mess I make, and builds me up like there's no tomorrow.
God made me pretty self-sufficient. I'm pretty confident that I need NO ONE that I don't already have, so 'don't worry about me' has become my new most common saying. The messes I make are the ones I deal with, and I have dealt. The only difference is that I can speak my mind when necessary, possibly risking personal pain for the sake of the pain of others. But self-proclaimed humility isn't worth the pixels it's typed with, so take it for what it's worth.
Moving on.
Anyway. I have neglected this venting tool for a while, and as you can see, a lot has happened in the last few months. Took the GRE. Did not do that great. Might have to take it again. Collective 'ugh' on that one.
Classes are ok for the most part. Genetics has this nasty knack for forcing me to really bring out my best effort all the time.
DAMN I am such a procrastinating idiot...I have got to get these grad school apps done soon! Can't wait till second semester when this headache will be over...regardless of where I get accepted.
Certain music albums are getting me through these weeks of my life, and I am grateful that God has given me that outlet to be relieved of stress through passively listening. Might write about that next, actually...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The written equivalent of launching a nuclear missle into my house...
Ok, so maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Do I regret it? Not right now. Is mom upset as all hell? Probably yelling a lot?
Bet the life savings on it.
Is the fallout gonna hang around for a while? Is Mark going to think that snow came early? Am I gonna get some sort of monetary penalty for this? Like paying for my stupid GRE?
Yes, YES, and probably. Shit.
Ladies and gentlemen, my mother: the reigning queen of speculation, worry, and negativity when it comes to questions of my maturity, work ethic, organizational skills and intelligence. If I'm wrong, she has yet to consistently prove it. But I just want to say, for one second, that email to her was a work of absolute sarcastic purity. And there weren't even any curses in it. Yeah, you read that right.
Ok, back up. So, she calls me today first. With the kind of tone that you fear more than any other. The kind that signals that someone in the family is either dead or dying. Only, that someone just happened to have four legs and garner more pure joyful attention than me and all my brothers combined...yes, one of my mom's beloved cats died.
Frankly, I'm still surprised she outlived them...for the amount of times that she ran across that highway to get one of those damn furballs, I really thought the odds were not in her favor against those cattle semis climbing over that hill at 60 mph. But did my logic matter? Fuck no. I'll refrain from ranting on THAT tangent.
Anyways, the call regressed to statements, no longer of any honest worry or admittance of total ignorance of the situation on her part. About my GRE, grad school options, and deadlines, she had apparently acquired complete omniscience, and was more than ready to pass judgement on how out of gear my ass was, and that I should step on the clutch and put the damn thing back into gear (paraphrased) and that I should just sit and take one more public bashing of my ability to do things in the face of so much stress that I could scream, that I actually did the second I hung up the phone.
So, here's to the angry messages, phone calls, yelling matches, and total breakdowns of communication that we all have frequently enough to drive us nuts. Maybe I should just get a big red button that says "NUKES" on it instead, and slam it down every time I get into these situations.
(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)
Bet the life savings on it.
Is the fallout gonna hang around for a while? Is Mark going to think that snow came early? Am I gonna get some sort of monetary penalty for this? Like paying for my stupid GRE?
Yes, YES, and probably. Shit.
Ladies and gentlemen, my mother: the reigning queen of speculation, worry, and negativity when it comes to questions of my maturity, work ethic, organizational skills and intelligence. If I'm wrong, she has yet to consistently prove it. But I just want to say, for one second, that email to her was a work of absolute sarcastic purity. And there weren't even any curses in it. Yeah, you read that right.
Ok, back up. So, she calls me today first. With the kind of tone that you fear more than any other. The kind that signals that someone in the family is either dead or dying. Only, that someone just happened to have four legs and garner more pure joyful attention than me and all my brothers combined...yes, one of my mom's beloved cats died.
Frankly, I'm still surprised she outlived them...for the amount of times that she ran across that highway to get one of those damn furballs, I really thought the odds were not in her favor against those cattle semis climbing over that hill at 60 mph. But did my logic matter? Fuck no. I'll refrain from ranting on THAT tangent.
Anyways, the call regressed to statements, no longer of any honest worry or admittance of total ignorance of the situation on her part. About my GRE, grad school options, and deadlines, she had apparently acquired complete omniscience, and was more than ready to pass judgement on how out of gear my ass was, and that I should step on the clutch and put the damn thing back into gear (paraphrased) and that I should just sit and take one more public bashing of my ability to do things in the face of so much stress that I could scream, that I actually did the second I hung up the phone.
So, here's to the angry messages, phone calls, yelling matches, and total breakdowns of communication that we all have frequently enough to drive us nuts. Maybe I should just get a big red button that says "NUKES" on it instead, and slam it down every time I get into these situations.
(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)(slam)
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Shooting My Better Judgment in the Foot
WARNING: MUSHINESS MAY OR MAY NOT BE PRESENT. YOUR RESULTS MAY VARY. CONSULT YOUR PHYSICIAN BEFORE USING. (IF I AM YOUR PHYSICIAN, WELL, YOU'RE PROBABLY GOING TO READ THIS ANYWAY...). GUARANTEED FRESH UNTIL PRINTED DATE. ANY REBLOG-CAST WITHOUT THE EXPRESS WRITTEN CONSENT OF ABC AND THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE IS PROHIBITED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
----------you've been warned...also, this should have gotten posted about 3 weeks ago----------
Ok, so I was planning on writing about one of these a week, to just keep up with life and force myself into a writing regimen. Then this week started, and I realized that my life is currently way too random for something so structured.I spent most of the summer worrying and waiting, and writing about worrying and waiting. Exciting stuff right there, to be sure, but pretty soon I forgot that there's still something at the end of the tunnel, and that worrying for the sake of worrying is a stupid way to live. So, here I am....with a girl who says she can stand me, classes that are as easy as advertised, and a job that will only sometimes crowd out my social life.
First, let me just say that when you spend so long thinking about something and then it actually happens, it can feel like Christmas. At the same time, I can't bring myself to trust it very much, considering her and my track records. Chief of naysayers though I be (+10 points for getting that warped hymn reference), I'm still hoping a little. She's great, and I'm almost ready to entertain the thought that one date could finally turn into something special. If anything, I almost feel guilty for giving in and being happy; and here's where my messed-up, introverted way of thinking kicks in. Happiness in this way is opening me up to getting really hurt, if given the time. And several short relationships have made me pretty touchy when it comes to 'just taking it easy and enjoying it.' We've both been afraid the other is going to drop the other, and after hacking through all of that irony, it's a legitimate fear. We've both already told the other that we didn't think this could work.
But that was before the summer. Things are different now, and I just have to make the best of it, whether I feel brave about it or not. I have just scratched the surface of her shyness, and in some ways we are really, really different.
But in other ways, we get along well. I still don't feel like we're very close yet, but that's what time is for. Just, don't get me started on the concept of time and the decision to consider this knowing she's gone in December....or I might yell a lot.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Week 1: Things that are, things that aren't, and a decent amount of booz...
It's never like you expect. Sometimes it's worse, sometimes it's better, but it's never the way you picture it. Just about everything you don't have control over in life ends up this way. Time at school is no exception. Anticipating something for 3 long months will help cultivate some very strange assumptions about the coming year. And when you toss the feelings of someone else into the mix, well, kiss your rational thoughts goodbye....at least that's what I do.
Overthinking is going to be the death of me, and late night writing is never a very big help...which is why this is being written on a saturday morning when I should just try to force myself back to bed.
You could call the first week busy, or hectic, or stressful, or intimidating, even for a senior who rolls eyes at the freshmen and their shaking knees. I've done just about all of it before. I've seen it all before. I know the people, the layout, the profs, the work, everything....well, not everything. And it's those things that I don't have a handle on that are making this first month back harder than I ever wanted to believe.
All summer I was caught wondering how to handle my life right now. The constant verbal bludgeoning with heavy phrases like "Live in the moment!", and "Stop planning ahead on this!" make me want to scream; because not only have they slowly worked their way into my mind to become something I might consider, but they still go against just about everything I stand for in the way that I direct my life, for varying reasons.
Don't get me wrong, it would be WAY too easy for me to just say 'fine, I'll just force myself to not worry, or think about the future, or anything, and just be blissfully ignorant in the moment'. But then all I could do is look in the mirror and call that man a fool. There are things going on in my life that mean a lot to me, and all I'm getting from everyone close to me is that I can't be myself to get through them - I have to CHANGE. Change behavior, change outlook, change what matters to me. How am I supposed to be happy if I'm just going to deny all the things that help me make important decisions?
Of course, the object of my frustrations is no help at all. That should probably clue me into something too, but..."oh, just keep trying, something will work out." I can hear her opinions about me any time, day or night, from her roommates, or her friends, but just try and talk to her, and all I get is a frightened/intimidated/uninterested girl putting on her dating training wheels and steering the metaphorical bike right into a tree. I'd just as soon walk the lonlier road than face the burn of another innocently cutting denial of my character/datability. This is a hassle I know I don't need.
I am back to being sick and tired of feeling like this whole ordeal is just some mirage-type deal that I can see but can't ever attain. When something frustrates me this much, I'll be the first to say I lose sight of any positive benefits of actually getting what I work for (a healthy relationship). But what I lack in drunken optimism I try to make up for in perspective. Most of the time that just gets me labeled a cynic and then whoever I'm arguing with leaves. Meh. If they can't handle trying to help me face my fears, then I'll do it the same way I always do. Alone.
In the end, I can temper everything almost beautifully by maintaining what no one can ever take away from me, no matter the topic at hand - my ability to close off my emotions in damage control and survive. Nothing I get myself into ever grows to the point that I can't come back from it. Eventually someday I might have strong enough feelings for someone that a new level of trust will become necessary...but until then, I work to keep my life under control, in spite of everyone else's, well, loose opinions about how I should live.
All that being said, I'm still going to try as hard as I can to see where this interaction between me and this girl goes. If it blows up in my face, well I have tons of practce in that to fall back on. If it works out, well, that's the whole point, right?
Overthinking is going to be the death of me, and late night writing is never a very big help...which is why this is being written on a saturday morning when I should just try to force myself back to bed.
You could call the first week busy, or hectic, or stressful, or intimidating, even for a senior who rolls eyes at the freshmen and their shaking knees. I've done just about all of it before. I've seen it all before. I know the people, the layout, the profs, the work, everything....well, not everything. And it's those things that I don't have a handle on that are making this first month back harder than I ever wanted to believe.
All summer I was caught wondering how to handle my life right now. The constant verbal bludgeoning with heavy phrases like "Live in the moment!", and "Stop planning ahead on this!" make me want to scream; because not only have they slowly worked their way into my mind to become something I might consider, but they still go against just about everything I stand for in the way that I direct my life, for varying reasons.
Don't get me wrong, it would be WAY too easy for me to just say 'fine, I'll just force myself to not worry, or think about the future, or anything, and just be blissfully ignorant in the moment'. But then all I could do is look in the mirror and call that man a fool. There are things going on in my life that mean a lot to me, and all I'm getting from everyone close to me is that I can't be myself to get through them - I have to CHANGE. Change behavior, change outlook, change what matters to me. How am I supposed to be happy if I'm just going to deny all the things that help me make important decisions?
Of course, the object of my frustrations is no help at all. That should probably clue me into something too, but..."oh, just keep trying, something will work out." I can hear her opinions about me any time, day or night, from her roommates, or her friends, but just try and talk to her, and all I get is a frightened/intimidated/uninterested girl putting on her dating training wheels and steering the metaphorical bike right into a tree. I'd just as soon walk the lonlier road than face the burn of another innocently cutting denial of my character/datability. This is a hassle I know I don't need.
I am back to being sick and tired of feeling like this whole ordeal is just some mirage-type deal that I can see but can't ever attain. When something frustrates me this much, I'll be the first to say I lose sight of any positive benefits of actually getting what I work for (a healthy relationship). But what I lack in drunken optimism I try to make up for in perspective. Most of the time that just gets me labeled a cynic and then whoever I'm arguing with leaves. Meh. If they can't handle trying to help me face my fears, then I'll do it the same way I always do. Alone.
In the end, I can temper everything almost beautifully by maintaining what no one can ever take away from me, no matter the topic at hand - my ability to close off my emotions in damage control and survive. Nothing I get myself into ever grows to the point that I can't come back from it. Eventually someday I might have strong enough feelings for someone that a new level of trust will become necessary...but until then, I work to keep my life under control, in spite of everyone else's, well, loose opinions about how I should live.
All that being said, I'm still going to try as hard as I can to see where this interaction between me and this girl goes. If it blows up in my face, well I have tons of practce in that to fall back on. If it works out, well, that's the whole point, right?
---------------In other news---------------
(hereafter known as everything that's on "The Back-Burner" of my mind. Shut up...it's early, and I'm doing my best to be clever, damn it...I mean, nobody's forcing you to read this.)
- FOOTBALL IS ONLY A WEEK AWAY!!!!!!!!!! MINDLESS VIOLENCE IN THE NAME OF GLORY, HERE WE COME! And damn it, Castille, for being a selfish jackass.
- Classes are new, shiny, and intimidating if only for their inability to be nailed down so I can figure out just how little I'll have to try to get that all-elusive 4.0 this year. Also, turns out the rumors are true - rock band will NOT help you learn guitar. At all. In any way. Other than the general frustrations of trying to play the damn thing without looking at the 'chords'. That version of frustration is about the same.
- I do miss the family some, and I wish I had the time/patience to call them without the sure-fire guarantee that I'm going to start an argument with my parents somehow. Oh well.
- I haven't played soccer yet, and it's probably part of what's working so hard to make me depressed. Oh, that, and the list of people I wish didn't know I was here.
- I've lost 3 years of inside jokes by not having a motivation to write them down. 7 if you count high school. So here's the best ones of this week that aren't being immortalized by shell's quote wall:
(Hunter swaying back and forth, from Chipotle: "I'm freakin out, man! I'm freaking out!")
(The Bike Club Club)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Countdown Aftermath
There's something to be said for waiting. There's also something to be said for waiting patiently. One is mandatory, the other just makes you look mature.
On the one hand, there's waiting anxiously for things to end. The more I experience and live, the more I'm realizing that very few things can really fit this category and not make me regret it later. I'm not sorry that some of my classes ended. I'm not sorry my warehouse job ended. And at the same time, wishing them away just ruins it for all the things that were going on at the same time and not getting the attention they deserved. Like finding time for myself. Finding time to hang out with my brothers. Finding time to enjoy the awesome weather we've had all summer. Seeing the actual headway I've made in terms of money so that this year can be a lot more fun. All these things get covered over by the constant cloud of lousiness that ruled over this summer.
(This should have been posted sooner, I just didn't have the time to do it. I might add to it later, but then again I might not)
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Step One: Waste Time. Step Two: Hate Strongly. Step Three: Panic
What a summer. Future me, when you read this, whenever that may be, I'm sure you (I? We? How do you talk in the first, second, and third persons in one sentence? ah well) will be in a better situation than the one I occupy currently. Two jobs at the same time is, first of all, ridiculous. I have not had a full day off from any manual work in over a month. Currently my roommate is trying to spend my money in advance on tickets and trips to do random college things that I have no excuse not to do. This is not unexpected, but it's making my efforts to make a little extra money this summer feel like I'm not quite making the headway that I was originally going to.
I'm worn to pieces, and the idea that a year of college full of pressures to get closer to a 4.0, get a good grade on the GRE, and find a grad school is a MORE RELAXING proposition than living through another month of a summer like this, is just crazy.
And yet, I'm going to miss this point in my life terribly.
This is my last summer as an undergrad. After this, I can't really claim to be a kid anymore. I'll have a college degree. I'll have an apartment for grad school basically living on my own. I feel like if I screw this up now, my brothers will have little reason to give a damn what I do next fall, or any time after that. We haven't had what you'd call a really great summer. Death in the family brings people together regardless of what they consciously try to do, but beyond that, it's just been a lousy summer that, for better or worse, is what I have to hold on to in terms of memories.
I spent most of this summer wishing it away. I blindly love college, and I'm not ashamed of that. The people there, the things we get to do, the total lack of maturity in general is refreshing and keeps me going. But summers at home aren't going to be there forever, as retardedly obvious as that sounds. Sure this is as serious as this stupid blog has gotten so far, but such is this time in my life, so it will get written down.
This summer I have hated the jobs I've had, the people I've had to deal with, the funeral I had to help in, the online classes I had to take, the shadowing that alienated me, and the lack of friends in this nowhere of a place I'm now obligated to call home. There are so many negative things that have happened in the past 3 months that I can hardly stand it.
I suppose a lot has gone right too, and there's a lot of promise going into the fall. Life seems to balance itself out, no matter how insane it gets at some points. I had some pressing debts to pay, and this summer I have worked my ass off completely to get them paid and get a little ahead. I was staring graduation in the face, and these online classes fell right in where I needed them. Hopefully the trend continues with my stupid GRE and a few other things, one of which being girl-related.
Yes, there it is. There is a girl that eats up a significant chunk of the free time I have in my mind. I have a few opinions about the whole thing, but the beginning of summer is NOT the time to start talking about feelings with a girl you can't see for 3 months. It eats at your brain like few things can. And you are reading the product of a guy who thinks WAAAAAAAY too much about a great number of things. Personally, I just want to prove to myself that I can hold a relationship together past 2 months. That seems to be the ceiling to whatever social happiness I am inherently entitled to.
There is something about having feelings for someone that leaves you freed and at the same time dangerously stuck on the ground. The optimistic thoughts in my head stand little chance, since they are decidedly the away team in my brain, and the crowd is not a friendly one.
I am also definitely ready for football season, if that was any indication. In the meantime, I'm going to write more when I'm not so tired.
I'm worn to pieces, and the idea that a year of college full of pressures to get closer to a 4.0, get a good grade on the GRE, and find a grad school is a MORE RELAXING proposition than living through another month of a summer like this, is just crazy.
And yet, I'm going to miss this point in my life terribly.
This is my last summer as an undergrad. After this, I can't really claim to be a kid anymore. I'll have a college degree. I'll have an apartment for grad school basically living on my own. I feel like if I screw this up now, my brothers will have little reason to give a damn what I do next fall, or any time after that. We haven't had what you'd call a really great summer. Death in the family brings people together regardless of what they consciously try to do, but beyond that, it's just been a lousy summer that, for better or worse, is what I have to hold on to in terms of memories.
I spent most of this summer wishing it away. I blindly love college, and I'm not ashamed of that. The people there, the things we get to do, the total lack of maturity in general is refreshing and keeps me going. But summers at home aren't going to be there forever, as retardedly obvious as that sounds. Sure this is as serious as this stupid blog has gotten so far, but such is this time in my life, so it will get written down.
This summer I have hated the jobs I've had, the people I've had to deal with, the funeral I had to help in, the online classes I had to take, the shadowing that alienated me, and the lack of friends in this nowhere of a place I'm now obligated to call home. There are so many negative things that have happened in the past 3 months that I can hardly stand it.
I suppose a lot has gone right too, and there's a lot of promise going into the fall. Life seems to balance itself out, no matter how insane it gets at some points. I had some pressing debts to pay, and this summer I have worked my ass off completely to get them paid and get a little ahead. I was staring graduation in the face, and these online classes fell right in where I needed them. Hopefully the trend continues with my stupid GRE and a few other things, one of which being girl-related.
Yes, there it is. There is a girl that eats up a significant chunk of the free time I have in my mind. I have a few opinions about the whole thing, but the beginning of summer is NOT the time to start talking about feelings with a girl you can't see for 3 months. It eats at your brain like few things can. And you are reading the product of a guy who thinks WAAAAAAAY too much about a great number of things. Personally, I just want to prove to myself that I can hold a relationship together past 2 months. That seems to be the ceiling to whatever social happiness I am inherently entitled to.
There is something about having feelings for someone that leaves you freed and at the same time dangerously stuck on the ground. The optimistic thoughts in my head stand little chance, since they are decidedly the away team in my brain, and the crowd is not a friendly one.
I am also definitely ready for football season, if that was any indication. In the meantime, I'm going to write more when I'm not so tired.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Irony at its heaviest
Enough of that depressing top 10 list. I've been too busy to mindlessly write something clever/sarcastic. This week hasn't been very kind to me so far. Sunday I still had a cold when I went to work, and it just made everything a lot less fun. Then monday I just hit a wall. Couldn't think straight, couldn't force myself to tough it out anymore (and this was on my 'day off') and I just avoided my family for the whole day. Didn't even eat that much. Shut out the world for the day while I got some sanity back, because over 3 weeks of working 7 days a week is not the way to go. Ever. If I ever start doing that again, anyone who reads this should pull me aside and hit me repeatedly, or find some way to remind me about what trying to be invincible accomplished - nothing. No money is worth the way I've been feeling, strung out so much that I can hardly work.
But, life goes on. It doesn't slow down like people do on the highway to stare at an accident, it doesn't change pace when it suddenly gets busy - it just goes. You can either panic that you're not driving, or you can control as much as you can in your world while it moves along.
I'm currently moving from the former to the latter.
Anyway, to the point of this post, its title, and to the self-incriminating story housed therein...because everybody loves a good incriminating story.
So, I don't know how much a pallet of canned food weights, but I'm guessing it's somewhere around a ton and a half, two tons. That's heavy. If that falls on me, there's not a lot I can do in the survival department that doesn't include turning green and getting really big and angry. Normally there's no reason a pallet on the ground would jump up and collapse on me, but some of them are on racks that slide out to let the new, full ones show when the old ones run out. But sometimes, they catch on the rails and don't slide, or only slide when you don't want them to.
So the other day I had to go inside one of these shelves, with pallets on rails, and get a whole bunch of packs of cans. All the while I'm assuming that one of these cans is going to lighten the weight enough that the pallet is going to come sliding free, and I'm going to be separated from my knees by a juggernaut of foodstuffs. So, I'm getting the cans, when it starts to move a little. I get the cans faster. Eventually I have to look and see what type of food is about to take my life.
It is, of course, corn.
I am here writing this today because I obviously did not get killed by the pallet, but all the same if I had died, I think my friends who knew me best would probably just laughed at the all too-fitting demise-by-corn of yours truly.
And thus the Nebraskan made fun of himself again.
Miscellaneous:
-Praying for a certain someone to get out of surgery safely.
-Hope another someone doesn't get mad that I'm definitely not calling them this week.
-Hope ___ knows what they are doing, because it is going to be a long year regardless.
-Ready to completely give up on ____. How can you keep on acting like this? Your immaturity is advanced as your insecurities, which are pretty damn high I'd imagine.
-If I can keep straight who I meant some of these for in the next six months, I'll be fricken amazed.
-No more Mr. Nice Guy. This is the way things are, pal. Get used to it.
-Thanks for understanding, while at the same time being able to never comprehend a God-forsaken thing that I say. That's quite a talent you have there.
But, life goes on. It doesn't slow down like people do on the highway to stare at an accident, it doesn't change pace when it suddenly gets busy - it just goes. You can either panic that you're not driving, or you can control as much as you can in your world while it moves along.
I'm currently moving from the former to the latter.
Anyway, to the point of this post, its title, and to the self-incriminating story housed therein...because everybody loves a good incriminating story.
So, I don't know how much a pallet of canned food weights, but I'm guessing it's somewhere around a ton and a half, two tons. That's heavy. If that falls on me, there's not a lot I can do in the survival department that doesn't include turning green and getting really big and angry. Normally there's no reason a pallet on the ground would jump up and collapse on me, but some of them are on racks that slide out to let the new, full ones show when the old ones run out. But sometimes, they catch on the rails and don't slide, or only slide when you don't want them to.
So the other day I had to go inside one of these shelves, with pallets on rails, and get a whole bunch of packs of cans. All the while I'm assuming that one of these cans is going to lighten the weight enough that the pallet is going to come sliding free, and I'm going to be separated from my knees by a juggernaut of foodstuffs. So, I'm getting the cans, when it starts to move a little. I get the cans faster. Eventually I have to look and see what type of food is about to take my life.
It is, of course, corn.
I am here writing this today because I obviously did not get killed by the pallet, but all the same if I had died, I think my friends who knew me best would probably just laughed at the all too-fitting demise-by-corn of yours truly.
And thus the Nebraskan made fun of himself again.
Miscellaneous:
-Praying for a certain someone to get out of surgery safely.
-Hope another someone doesn't get mad that I'm definitely not calling them this week.
-Hope ___ knows what they are doing, because it is going to be a long year regardless.
-Ready to completely give up on ____. How can you keep on acting like this? Your immaturity is advanced as your insecurities, which are pretty damn high I'd imagine.
-If I can keep straight who I meant some of these for in the next six months, I'll be fricken amazed.
-No more Mr. Nice Guy. This is the way things are, pal. Get used to it.
-Thanks for understanding, while at the same time being able to never comprehend a God-forsaken thing that I say. That's quite a talent you have there.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Top 10 Crappiest Things about my Job
Just what it says. I don't really like my job. Off the top of my head, these are the biggest reasons why.
10) Number system
This is getting less annoying, but it still sucks. The aisles are numbered as if you'd go from one numerically into the next while on an order, which snakes you around and really f*&%s up the way that everything is numbered. Also, aisles 17, 18, 26, and 30 all hold a special wish from me that they burn in hell, because their contents is either unstackable, heavy (80+ lbs), or both.
9) Commute
Ok, I don't even have to pay for gas cuz I'm busting my butt so much that my dad is pitching in, and it still kills. Every week I go through a tank's worth. Maybe this is average for all you morning commuters out there, but the damn place is a half an hour away from my house, and I have to coast like mad to try and save gas.
8) Constant work
So, if you know me, normally I would list this as a good thing. I like to work. I like to feel as if what I'm doing has a purpose, and I am getting stuff done fast and well. But this is the ultimate in IT-NEVER-ENDS kind of work. It's mind numbing. I hear a number, pick up a thing, try to place this thing on the pallet so it doesn't fall/break, then repeat. I apply it to the menial labor people speak of in hell, moving rocks back and forth or whatever. Actually, this is the complete opposite of that - I mean, I'm bringing food to people who are going to be sustained by it. But if they could just drink less bottled water, my back might love them a little bit more. Which brings me to my next one:
7) Pain
Again, normally if you know me this wouldn't even make the list. I put myself through tons of pain all the time. It's called weight lifting, sports, and other types of work that I do. All in all, I'm used to pain But this, this is just constant. And I'm doing it to myself without ever getting to see any of the money I'm making, so it feels like it's for free, and that makes it all the worse. My back feels like your legs do after you run five miles - you know that burning, tingling, I'm-gonna-give-out-on-you feeling? Put that in your back for a few days. My hands hurt from catching things before they smash my face, arms, feet, etc. My arms look like I was trying to cut myself, with all these cardboard-shaped incisions.
6) Damn F*^&ing Construction
This should have been higher on the list, but that just speaks to how much I hate all the other stuff ahead of this. They are building an addition to this warehouse, another 200 yd facility the same size as the current one, and there are construction guys everywhere, with all their tools and junk lying around. Also, they are redo-ing several random patches of concrete all along the most-often used aisles in the warehouse, which makes life hell for anyone trying to go anywhere.
5) Payscale
At first, I revelled in the potential payout this job could give me. Then I had my first day, and realized how damn stupid it was. I bust my ass every day, and have barely achieved their minimum, '85% efficiency' rating. Yes, part of it is not knowing where to go or what to do, and another part is the construction slowing everybody down, but it's just impossible to watch the potential money going out the door because of things I can't completely control.
4) Music
It's beyond my control, and it's invariably old country. Those two things drive me nuts. It's like a brainwashing insult to all my senses. I have an annoying computer voice in one ear, and tons of twangy complaints rushing in the other.
3) Boxes
There's a special, dark, evil place in my heart for all cardboard boxes. This grew out of moving 6 seperate times. I hate it. It reminds me of all the insecurity, lack of control, stress, and sad events of my childhood, since most were preceeded by packing up and moving. It takes a lot to beat out something like that.
2) Headsets
And these are making it their goal to do just that. Their pure annoyance factor pushed them this far. The cord gets in my way, the headset only picks up the 'bang' from a dropped box and thinks it's me saying a number, while completely missing my voice which it was programmed to hear, and they actually hurt my head. Fantastic. Way to go, technology. (I swear at these a lot. Sure hope there isn't someone getting all the feeds from our headsets into a computer or something, or I might soon be out of a job...).
1) Computer voice
But nothing beats out the voice coming in from those damned headsets. I swear this voice will haunt my dreams for years. It's this computer generated voice that sounds way more fake than the creators probably wanted it. It goes around telling me I said '8' when I didn't say anything, tells me I'm wrong (that really, really gets to me. It doesn't know what the hell it's talking about), and just generally squawking at me all the damn day long. I know it's bad when I smile at the idea of the command to shut it up when I go on break or go home for the day, since then I know it's gotten to me.
But at least I have school to go back to. A guy was helping me reorganize an order I messed up, and genuinely wished that he could go back to school in the fall. The idea that 'this is it' has probably struck him pretty hard. I don't have to look around and see my permanent future yet, thank GOD. My life can still be whatever it is I want it to be. It really made me stop being mad about the day and thankful I've only got about 18 work days left this summer. And thankful for a lot of other things.
10) Number system
This is getting less annoying, but it still sucks. The aisles are numbered as if you'd go from one numerically into the next while on an order, which snakes you around and really f*&%s up the way that everything is numbered. Also, aisles 17, 18, 26, and 30 all hold a special wish from me that they burn in hell, because their contents is either unstackable, heavy (80+ lbs), or both.
9) Commute
Ok, I don't even have to pay for gas cuz I'm busting my butt so much that my dad is pitching in, and it still kills. Every week I go through a tank's worth. Maybe this is average for all you morning commuters out there, but the damn place is a half an hour away from my house, and I have to coast like mad to try and save gas.
8) Constant work
So, if you know me, normally I would list this as a good thing. I like to work. I like to feel as if what I'm doing has a purpose, and I am getting stuff done fast and well. But this is the ultimate in IT-NEVER-ENDS kind of work. It's mind numbing. I hear a number, pick up a thing, try to place this thing on the pallet so it doesn't fall/break, then repeat. I apply it to the menial labor people speak of in hell, moving rocks back and forth or whatever. Actually, this is the complete opposite of that - I mean, I'm bringing food to people who are going to be sustained by it. But if they could just drink less bottled water, my back might love them a little bit more. Which brings me to my next one:
7) Pain
Again, normally if you know me this wouldn't even make the list. I put myself through tons of pain all the time. It's called weight lifting, sports, and other types of work that I do. All in all, I'm used to pain But this, this is just constant. And I'm doing it to myself without ever getting to see any of the money I'm making, so it feels like it's for free, and that makes it all the worse. My back feels like your legs do after you run five miles - you know that burning, tingling, I'm-gonna-give-out-on-you feeling? Put that in your back for a few days. My hands hurt from catching things before they smash my face, arms, feet, etc. My arms look like I was trying to cut myself, with all these cardboard-shaped incisions.
6) Damn F*^&ing Construction
This should have been higher on the list, but that just speaks to how much I hate all the other stuff ahead of this. They are building an addition to this warehouse, another 200 yd facility the same size as the current one, and there are construction guys everywhere, with all their tools and junk lying around. Also, they are redo-ing several random patches of concrete all along the most-often used aisles in the warehouse, which makes life hell for anyone trying to go anywhere.
5) Payscale
At first, I revelled in the potential payout this job could give me. Then I had my first day, and realized how damn stupid it was. I bust my ass every day, and have barely achieved their minimum, '85% efficiency' rating. Yes, part of it is not knowing where to go or what to do, and another part is the construction slowing everybody down, but it's just impossible to watch the potential money going out the door because of things I can't completely control.
4) Music
It's beyond my control, and it's invariably old country. Those two things drive me nuts. It's like a brainwashing insult to all my senses. I have an annoying computer voice in one ear, and tons of twangy complaints rushing in the other.
3) Boxes
There's a special, dark, evil place in my heart for all cardboard boxes. This grew out of moving 6 seperate times. I hate it. It reminds me of all the insecurity, lack of control, stress, and sad events of my childhood, since most were preceeded by packing up and moving. It takes a lot to beat out something like that.
2) Headsets
And these are making it their goal to do just that. Their pure annoyance factor pushed them this far. The cord gets in my way, the headset only picks up the 'bang' from a dropped box and thinks it's me saying a number, while completely missing my voice which it was programmed to hear, and they actually hurt my head. Fantastic. Way to go, technology. (I swear at these a lot. Sure hope there isn't someone getting all the feeds from our headsets into a computer or something, or I might soon be out of a job...).
1) Computer voice
But nothing beats out the voice coming in from those damned headsets. I swear this voice will haunt my dreams for years. It's this computer generated voice that sounds way more fake than the creators probably wanted it. It goes around telling me I said '8' when I didn't say anything, tells me I'm wrong (that really, really gets to me. It doesn't know what the hell it's talking about), and just generally squawking at me all the damn day long. I know it's bad when I smile at the idea of the command to shut it up when I go on break or go home for the day, since then I know it's gotten to me.
But at least I have school to go back to. A guy was helping me reorganize an order I messed up, and genuinely wished that he could go back to school in the fall. The idea that 'this is it' has probably struck him pretty hard. I don't have to look around and see my permanent future yet, thank GOD. My life can still be whatever it is I want it to be. It really made me stop being mad about the day and thankful I've only got about 18 work days left this summer. And thankful for a lot of other things.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Retrospect Learning Curve
Some of these posts, I've decided, will be for the entertainment of some random Google searcher who stumbles onto this blog. Other posts will be for me to look back on and laugh. This one could be both, I suppose.
Things I have learned from working around high school guys:
- If I swore that much in high school and constantly sounded that stupid, I don't ever want to know about it. There's just something about a voice that sounds like it's constantly on the verge of cracking that just takes all the umph out of any four letter words.
- Stuff must have been funnier back in those days. Cuz these guys laugh at EVERYTHING. Pretty sure I could be a stand-up comic if I had an audience of nothing but adolescent guys.
- 21 can feel really freaking old around guys who are 5 years younger than you. Then, I get mistaken for a high school kid, so I guess that evens out.
- I hated high school. HATED it. Like I would rather shut my hand in a door every day for a month than go back for those four years....even with that being the last time I got to play soccer competitively (depending on your definition of our team's ability to be competitive in any of those games.) This isn't really something new that I learned, more of a reiterating of some facts that I am very sure about, and was reminded of by these kids.
To be honest, high school didn't treat me that badly. I had friends. I made more by the time I graduated, and they are still around. I got to play the sport I love. I got to go to prom in THE most kick-ass prom vehicle on the planet. Whatever your vehicle was, you didn't stand a chance. Can your vette stop .50 caliber rounds? No? Then you start to get the idea of how much sweeter it was. (And how necessary such an armored vehicle is at prom in Wisconsin. Seriously.)
If I think of more teen-induced epiphanies, I'll add to the list.
Things I have learned from working around high school guys:
- If I swore that much in high school and constantly sounded that stupid, I don't ever want to know about it. There's just something about a voice that sounds like it's constantly on the verge of cracking that just takes all the umph out of any four letter words.
- Stuff must have been funnier back in those days. Cuz these guys laugh at EVERYTHING. Pretty sure I could be a stand-up comic if I had an audience of nothing but adolescent guys.
- 21 can feel really freaking old around guys who are 5 years younger than you. Then, I get mistaken for a high school kid, so I guess that evens out.
- I hated high school. HATED it. Like I would rather shut my hand in a door every day for a month than go back for those four years....even with that being the last time I got to play soccer competitively (depending on your definition of our team's ability to be competitive in any of those games.) This isn't really something new that I learned, more of a reiterating of some facts that I am very sure about, and was reminded of by these kids.
To be honest, high school didn't treat me that badly. I had friends. I made more by the time I graduated, and they are still around. I got to play the sport I love. I got to go to prom in THE most kick-ass prom vehicle on the planet. Whatever your vehicle was, you didn't stand a chance. Can your vette stop .50 caliber rounds? No? Then you start to get the idea of how much sweeter it was. (And how necessary such an armored vehicle is at prom in Wisconsin. Seriously.)
If I think of more teen-induced epiphanies, I'll add to the list.
Friday, July 17, 2009
"Ever Wonder Why We're Here?"
I don't usually ask myself that question. Never been that philosophical. In the end, we're here. So at the most have a good time, and at the very least get massively cynical and capture the inner monologues on something like this, if not for posterity than at least to laugh at later.
Words are like a sandbox for me. (This is, in fact, the segway to a metaphor. You can get used to it, or get gone, cuz I do this A LOT.) I can make whatever the hell I want, talk circles around an idea and make no progress building anything of substance, or get serious and sculpt together something clever that I can be proud of. Here, the former is highly more likely.
Only with words could I consider myself 'free' while writing constrained in a little pixelated box. Words are cool like that.
If by now you have realized that this first post was going to be awkward no matter what, and that I really just wrote it to screw around with the formatting options on this thing, then bravo. Welcome to my world.
Words are like a sandbox for me. (This is, in fact, the segway to a metaphor. You can get used to it, or get gone, cuz I do this A LOT.) I can make whatever the hell I want, talk circles around an idea and make no progress building anything of substance, or get serious and sculpt together something clever that I can be proud of. Here, the former is highly more likely.
Only with words could I consider myself 'free' while writing constrained in a little pixelated box. Words are cool like that.
If by now you have realized that this first post was going to be awkward no matter what, and that I really just wrote it to screw around with the formatting options on this thing, then bravo. Welcome to my world.
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