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Oct. 27th, 2005 | 03:53 pm
mood: 
aggravated
music: David Poe - Ringer
I don't know why I'm under the impression that me keeping up with one of these is unhealthy, but I'm at the office, getting paid to "fool around on the clock", so I might as well do write something, as I haven't had luck with anything on paper in a while. I was reading my friends entries and remembered that, at one point, I thought this was fun, but the people that frequently update do so because they have something to say, which is not exactly the case with me. And it's strange, too, that I feel I can't post this because I will end up offending someone - that seems just the opposite of the purpose of a journal... But I guess in this digital age, keeping a journal is something entirely different, assuming you don't opt to keep it private.
I'm making no sense, so I'll switch gears.
I think I am well in most respects - school is tolerable now that I've withdrawn from Biology (I had 48% and, as my cool professor said, "It isn't going to get any easier."), and aside from strange ovarian issues brought on my birth control pills (nothing polite to say about that, so draw your own ghastly conclusions) and the fact that I go pick up pills for my consumption on Monday, my health is better than usual. Plus, things with Collin are going well; we've been together for roughly two months as of (roughly?) yesterday, and knock on wood, it is serious. I won't gush about him and how well it's going, but I will say that it's refreshing to have met someone that is nice, but not boring or false, intelligent, in an all-around sort of way (i.e., not solely book smart or not only.. pop cultured!), and genuinely interested in me. The past couple of snakes I got involved with had some debilitating flaw that hurt one or both of us, and Collin is without any sort of glaring problem. He's eerily pleasant - with my luck he'll spontaneously combust or something. I'm enjoying myself, though, is the point of that rant. He is, too.
My relations with people that aren't Collin aren't going well, though. Two of the most interesting and funny people I know happen to detest me at the moment, so far as I can tell, and it's a pain in the ass. I'm at fault somehow - with one, I'm guilty of not being capable of devotion over long distances (among other things), and with the other... I'm not really sure. My list of close friends is a short one, and I'm not used to fighting (really fighting) them, so all I knew was to tell him that we should leave each other alone until we don't feel like clawing each other's eyes out, and that apparently wasn't the thing to do. I'm more upset about him than the other guy, because we don't have a history of not getting along, so it's really uncomfortable. And since I told him that we shouldn't talk, when I do say something to him, or when he approaches me, it worsens the issue; if we seem to be on good terms that day, it ends badly, and if I thought we hated each other that day, he confuses me by being - seemingly - friendly. It's a damn mess. I hate fighting with anyone, so I'm distraught that I so often clash with two people I really care about. And my other close friend and I don't talk much either because I'm with Collin all the time, or I'm uninterested in doing what he likes to do, which is also a shame, but less of a priority at the moment - we aren't to a dangerous point yet, unlike the other two friends I've described at length.
When I glance at what I've written earlier, I feel vaguely nauseated, which probably is not how I should feel about discussing my current events. It's like if I sit down to write about a good day, I end up writing a boring entry, and if I try to delicately discuss the less pleasant aspects of what's going on in my life, I feel like I've managed to kick myself in the stomach. Boo hoo...
It's time to leave the office, so I'm blessedly interrupted. This was a waste of time.
I'm making no sense, so I'll switch gears.
I think I am well in most respects - school is tolerable now that I've withdrawn from Biology (I had 48% and, as my cool professor said, "It isn't going to get any easier."), and aside from strange ovarian issues brought on my birth control pills (nothing polite to say about that, so draw your own ghastly conclusions) and the fact that I go pick up pills for my consumption on Monday, my health is better than usual. Plus, things with Collin are going well; we've been together for roughly two months as of (roughly?) yesterday, and knock on wood, it is serious. I won't gush about him and how well it's going, but I will say that it's refreshing to have met someone that is nice, but not boring or false, intelligent, in an all-around sort of way (i.e., not solely book smart or not only.. pop cultured!), and genuinely interested in me. The past couple of snakes I got involved with had some debilitating flaw that hurt one or both of us, and Collin is without any sort of glaring problem. He's eerily pleasant - with my luck he'll spontaneously combust or something. I'm enjoying myself, though, is the point of that rant. He is, too.
My relations with people that aren't Collin aren't going well, though. Two of the most interesting and funny people I know happen to detest me at the moment, so far as I can tell, and it's a pain in the ass. I'm at fault somehow - with one, I'm guilty of not being capable of devotion over long distances (among other things), and with the other... I'm not really sure. My list of close friends is a short one, and I'm not used to fighting (really fighting) them, so all I knew was to tell him that we should leave each other alone until we don't feel like clawing each other's eyes out, and that apparently wasn't the thing to do. I'm more upset about him than the other guy, because we don't have a history of not getting along, so it's really uncomfortable. And since I told him that we shouldn't talk, when I do say something to him, or when he approaches me, it worsens the issue; if we seem to be on good terms that day, it ends badly, and if I thought we hated each other that day, he confuses me by being - seemingly - friendly. It's a damn mess. I hate fighting with anyone, so I'm distraught that I so often clash with two people I really care about. And my other close friend and I don't talk much either because I'm with Collin all the time, or I'm uninterested in doing what he likes to do, which is also a shame, but less of a priority at the moment - we aren't to a dangerous point yet, unlike the other two friends I've described at length.
When I glance at what I've written earlier, I feel vaguely nauseated, which probably is not how I should feel about discussing my current events. It's like if I sit down to write about a good day, I end up writing a boring entry, and if I try to delicately discuss the less pleasant aspects of what's going on in my life, I feel like I've managed to kick myself in the stomach. Boo hoo...
It's time to leave the office, so I'm blessedly interrupted. This was a waste of time.
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bothered.
Aug. 9th, 2005 | 10:19 pm
music: Elliott Smith - Miss Misery
Today was one of those days that is so unpleasant in a handful of minor ways that tugging your hair out strand by strand couldn't begin to fix it; a day when the multitude of annoyances is akin to dripping faucets, nails on chalkboards, Tony Orlando music, hordes of clowns, or whatever it is that - at the very core of your being - bothers you.
I think what started it all is that I had to wake up early (nine) and went to bed late (seven.) This made me a Cranky Cathy to say the least, but somehow I found myself being driven (by my mom, at that!) toward the Health Center, which at one point was The Worst Place in the World because of the nature of things done there to me as a child. Saying that I have a problem with needles is like saying that Martha Stewart is a bit of a psycho bitch, or that Hitler wasn't the best guy, but my anxiety was quelled a bit because I knew the worst part of the visit would be sitting for what ended up being and hour or three in the waiting room, which isn't unlike the Bowels of Humanity due to all the jittery and morally questionable single people, snot-nosed kids, and anything but personable staff.
Of course they LIE to you about how painful any vaccination is going to be, but everything was made better by the fact that the woman who administered the TB skin test was black and grandmotherly and said I did "very well". It wasn't so bad, considering, but the whole experienced soured my already sour, sleep-deprived self and I left cursing the unsightly bump that had risen on my arm. And I demanded some coffee.
Mom and I ran by Sweet Bay (which has an atmosphere that isn't quite what I look for in a hang-out, but decent frozen mochas) and were generally in better spirits because we'd escaped the Health Dungeon largely unscathed. Unfortunately, I decided that my original plan of going home to sleep a few hours and add some arsenic to my coffee should be scrapped so that I could make some much needed money at my mom's office, where I've "worked" on and off all summer.
Being at the office was really what did it - if this "job" (database entry, filing, menial slave labor) has taught me anything, it is that I should rob old women or sell myself into the Slovenian sex trade rather than work in an office setting. It is miserable; my mom's office - Entertainment Fort Smith (eFort Smith) Magazine, by the way, where she serves as the managing editor - is the little house next door to the historic Bonneville House on seventh street, and it is full of large, meaty Southern matriarchs that don't necessarily do anything to directly harm me, but instead spell my doom in papercuts and endless database entries.
There is one exception to the eMatrons, and her name is Melanie. She is in her mid-twenties, tan, blonde and talks about two notches louder than polite society would dictate. And she's got a stupid haircut with a bad highlighting job. She is the type to frequent the new Area 51 Club downtown, and flirt with bouncers at the Rib Room. If you have never worked or been near an office setting, don't feel out of the loop - you will meet Melanies that will serve you food at places like TGI Friday's, and Melanies that will have you hold for long periods of time on technical support lines, only to giggle airily and leave you hanging after an hour or two. There are lots of Melanies in the world, but the eFortSmith Melanie is the Original Sin of salesgirls of that caliber, and too irritating to really describe any further; I will just conclude that she was most of what was wrong with the office today.
What also troubles me is that 90% of what goes on there is utterly useless - it's transferring a pointless piece of information (details of the Mercy Classic golf tournament? rich people automatically know the in's and out's of that - come on!) from a piece of paper to a computer, and then from the computer to the minds of whomever reads my poor mother's magazine. Don't get me wrong - I appreciate that my mom's an entrepreneur and puts up with all the shit she does ('managing editor' means 'Wiper of All the Other Grown Women's Asses'), but I think she toils away for a product that is ultimately.. lacking. She does all this work for nothing - she pays herself and the other eLadies not enough money for too much work.
I want to drone on about how nobody bothers to turn the faucet in the bathroom all the way off, or how Melanie skips in and has something inane to say, or how my mom's business partner (THE editor, who is more inept than "Mel"!) has this very distinct and infuriating way of hobbling about when she walks (her chilli pepper earrings swing nastily from side to side as she does this) or the way that their advertisers are UTTER shitheads all the time, but I think I've said enough about the whole thing.
To make a long story short: don't get stuck in a cubicle ever.
After a harrowing hour or two of trying to tear mom away from the computer long enough to take me by the bank and then home, I got home and collapsed and was just asleep enough to be roused from blissful slumber by my dad telling me I had a visitor. Some neighbors of mine - that I had previously not known existed - became sort of friendly when I mistakenly became romantically entangled with their best friend, a slimey character henceforth - and so appropriately - known as Dick.
Over the weekend, I accompanied a friend to the video store where said Dick works to return a film and was unfortunate enough as to run into him. Sort of. I mean, no real exchange took place, but he was falsely friendly as ever and I imagine he remembered i existed about then, which is what brought the neighbor boy over.
After Dick's girlfriend came back into town (it is about as bad as it sounds, but a story for another time), he ceased talking ot me altogether and so he hadn't had the chance to come by and collect some things he left here. And thusly he sent Neighbor Boy! It was a brief but unpleasant exchange, as I was half awake and quite regretful I hadn't sold every one of the comics he left here on eBay weeks ago.
So after that I had a mundane leftover lasagna dinner and I just got off the phone. Or, was hung up on, rather...
I think what started it all is that I had to wake up early (nine) and went to bed late (seven.) This made me a Cranky Cathy to say the least, but somehow I found myself being driven (by my mom, at that!) toward the Health Center, which at one point was The Worst Place in the World because of the nature of things done there to me as a child. Saying that I have a problem with needles is like saying that Martha Stewart is a bit of a psycho bitch, or that Hitler wasn't the best guy, but my anxiety was quelled a bit because I knew the worst part of the visit would be sitting for what ended up being and hour or three in the waiting room, which isn't unlike the Bowels of Humanity due to all the jittery and morally questionable single people, snot-nosed kids, and anything but personable staff.
Of course they LIE to you about how painful any vaccination is going to be, but everything was made better by the fact that the woman who administered the TB skin test was black and grandmotherly and said I did "very well". It wasn't so bad, considering, but the whole experienced soured my already sour, sleep-deprived self and I left cursing the unsightly bump that had risen on my arm. And I demanded some coffee.
Mom and I ran by Sweet Bay (which has an atmosphere that isn't quite what I look for in a hang-out, but decent frozen mochas) and were generally in better spirits because we'd escaped the Health Dungeon largely unscathed. Unfortunately, I decided that my original plan of going home to sleep a few hours and add some arsenic to my coffee should be scrapped so that I could make some much needed money at my mom's office, where I've "worked" on and off all summer.
Being at the office was really what did it - if this "job" (database entry, filing, menial slave labor) has taught me anything, it is that I should rob old women or sell myself into the Slovenian sex trade rather than work in an office setting. It is miserable; my mom's office - Entertainment Fort Smith (eFort Smith) Magazine, by the way, where she serves as the managing editor - is the little house next door to the historic Bonneville House on seventh street, and it is full of large, meaty Southern matriarchs that don't necessarily do anything to directly harm me, but instead spell my doom in papercuts and endless database entries.
There is one exception to the eMatrons, and her name is Melanie. She is in her mid-twenties, tan, blonde and talks about two notches louder than polite society would dictate. And she's got a stupid haircut with a bad highlighting job. She is the type to frequent the new Area 51 Club downtown, and flirt with bouncers at the Rib Room. If you have never worked or been near an office setting, don't feel out of the loop - you will meet Melanies that will serve you food at places like TGI Friday's, and Melanies that will have you hold for long periods of time on technical support lines, only to giggle airily and leave you hanging after an hour or two. There are lots of Melanies in the world, but the eFortSmith Melanie is the Original Sin of salesgirls of that caliber, and too irritating to really describe any further; I will just conclude that she was most of what was wrong with the office today.
What also troubles me is that 90% of what goes on there is utterly useless - it's transferring a pointless piece of information (details of the Mercy Classic golf tournament? rich people automatically know the in's and out's of that - come on!) from a piece of paper to a computer, and then from the computer to the minds of whomever reads my poor mother's magazine. Don't get me wrong - I appreciate that my mom's an entrepreneur and puts up with all the shit she does ('managing editor' means 'Wiper of All the Other Grown Women's Asses'), but I think she toils away for a product that is ultimately.. lacking. She does all this work for nothing - she pays herself and the other eLadies not enough money for too much work.
I want to drone on about how nobody bothers to turn the faucet in the bathroom all the way off, or how Melanie skips in and has something inane to say, or how my mom's business partner (THE editor, who is more inept than "Mel"!) has this very distinct and infuriating way of hobbling about when she walks (her chilli pepper earrings swing nastily from side to side as she does this) or the way that their advertisers are UTTER shitheads all the time, but I think I've said enough about the whole thing.
To make a long story short: don't get stuck in a cubicle ever.
After a harrowing hour or two of trying to tear mom away from the computer long enough to take me by the bank and then home, I got home and collapsed and was just asleep enough to be roused from blissful slumber by my dad telling me I had a visitor. Some neighbors of mine - that I had previously not known existed - became sort of friendly when I mistakenly became romantically entangled with their best friend, a slimey character henceforth - and so appropriately - known as Dick.
Over the weekend, I accompanied a friend to the video store where said Dick works to return a film and was unfortunate enough as to run into him. Sort of. I mean, no real exchange took place, but he was falsely friendly as ever and I imagine he remembered i existed about then, which is what brought the neighbor boy over.
After Dick's girlfriend came back into town (it is about as bad as it sounds, but a story for another time), he ceased talking ot me altogether and so he hadn't had the chance to come by and collect some things he left here. And thusly he sent Neighbor Boy! It was a brief but unpleasant exchange, as I was half awake and quite regretful I hadn't sold every one of the comics he left here on eBay weeks ago.
So after that I had a mundane leftover lasagna dinner and I just got off the phone. Or, was hung up on, rather...
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i've another good one for you.
Aug. 9th, 2005 | 06:01 am
music: Devo - Gut Feeling
Another journal, same problems, but what can you do? I decided to make another one of these mostly out of boredom, but I also feel like I should make some half-assed attempt at recording what I do before I kill any more braincells and forget the mundanely precious little bits of every other day that strike me as interesting or generally worth remembering for one reason or another. Maybe I'll actually keep up with this one and somehow benefit from being dilligent in my record-keeping years from now. In any event, though - a new journal means I'd better explain what's going on.
First and foremost (though I do forget!), I have somehow managed to gain acceptance to the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville. This is a big deal. I am registered as a Fulbright College of Arts and Sciences: Undeclared major, but I'll eventually go one of several routes (in terms of a focus) - English with an Art minor, English with a Drama minor, American Studies (!), or just plain Liberal Arts. Either way, I am GOING TO COLLEGE and I'll leave sometime next week. I don't know what dorm I'll be in or who I'll be staying with, but the important thing is that I did get in and I am suspiciously optimistic about the entire venture.
In the romantic department (which, sadly, gets more hype than school matters) I am not really sure what's going on. I think I'm dating someone, but as calls have ceased, I'm thinking the dates will, too. But who knows - I'll nag him about the state of things tomorrow and everything might be well again. I'm not used to the Not Beating Down My Door For Attention sort of guy, so I suppose I'm just being overly neurotic because he's giving me time to overanalyze everything. He's a nice guy, though.
I think what's worth mentioning today is that Cockram's Scavenger Hunt went well - though I stupidly missed out as I wasn't in 'action mode' at the time - and I got a free meal at El Super Taco today because either a) I've got breasts or b) El Super Taco Man has blown a cranial fuse. It was sure nice of him - whatever his reasoning - and I told him I'd pay him next time but free food (especially great Mexican food) is always pleasant.
Also, Collin and Sam and I were at the middle house on the Horne Compound and we got to hear his friend JT (and company) rehearse a bit for an AC/DC cover band which I thought was sort of neat. I am a sucker for good, live music. We saw this guy named The Cocker Spaniels play at Hesher's a while back and he was probably the best live solo musician I've seen in my life. An A+ Setup is better live, as well. I also recently saw (new friend) Jody's band, the Louis Ash trio, and they are delightful, too. And I've just.. yeah - I like live music. Yes.
Not sure what else is new. My mom's birthday (and Christy's and Juan's mom's) was four days ago (er, five now!) and we got her a porch swing and a freezer (?) and that was cool. My dad's is this upcoming week - the night of my orientation, it turns out! - and I'm not exactly sure what I'll get him. He dorkily collects these ridiculously awful dolls (Leaders of the World - I can't find a link, unfortunately), so I think I will search out and capture the ones that he doesn't have. We Wassons are odd gift-givers, I tell you! (A freezer!)
Anyway, here - I've got a lj and you can bother me if you need to. I'll update from time to time to bitch or relate times when hilarity ensued, but otherwise there'll be a whole lotta bitchin' most likely. I need to get up at nine for this TB shot that the school requires so I might as well not sleep.
First and foremost (though I do forget!), I have somehow managed to gain acceptance to the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville. This is a big deal. I am registered as a Fulbright College of Arts and Sciences: Undeclared major, but I'll eventually go one of several routes (in terms of a focus) - English with an Art minor, English with a Drama minor, American Studies (!), or just plain Liberal Arts. Either way, I am GOING TO COLLEGE and I'll leave sometime next week. I don't know what dorm I'll be in or who I'll be staying with, but the important thing is that I did get in and I am suspiciously optimistic about the entire venture.
In the romantic department (which, sadly, gets more hype than school matters) I am not really sure what's going on. I think I'm dating someone, but as calls have ceased, I'm thinking the dates will, too. But who knows - I'll nag him about the state of things tomorrow and everything might be well again. I'm not used to the Not Beating Down My Door For Attention sort of guy, so I suppose I'm just being overly neurotic because he's giving me time to overanalyze everything. He's a nice guy, though.
I think what's worth mentioning today is that Cockram's Scavenger Hunt went well - though I stupidly missed out as I wasn't in 'action mode' at the time - and I got a free meal at El Super Taco today because either a) I've got breasts or b) El Super Taco Man has blown a cranial fuse. It was sure nice of him - whatever his reasoning - and I told him I'd pay him next time but free food (especially great Mexican food) is always pleasant.
Also, Collin and Sam and I were at the middle house on the Horne Compound and we got to hear his friend JT (and company) rehearse a bit for an AC/DC cover band which I thought was sort of neat. I am a sucker for good, live music. We saw this guy named The Cocker Spaniels play at Hesher's a while back and he was probably the best live solo musician I've seen in my life. An A+ Setup is better live, as well. I also recently saw (new friend) Jody's band, the Louis Ash trio, and they are delightful, too. And I've just.. yeah - I like live music. Yes.
Not sure what else is new. My mom's birthday (and Christy's and Juan's mom's) was four days ago (er, five now!) and we got her a porch swing and a freezer (?) and that was cool. My dad's is this upcoming week - the night of my orientation, it turns out! - and I'm not exactly sure what I'll get him. He dorkily collects these ridiculously awful dolls (Leaders of the World - I can't find a link, unfortunately), so I think I will search out and capture the ones that he doesn't have. We Wassons are odd gift-givers, I tell you! (A freezer!)
Anyway, here - I've got a lj and you can bother me if you need to. I'll update from time to time to bitch or relate times when hilarity ensued, but otherwise there'll be a whole lotta bitchin' most likely. I need to get up at nine for this TB shot that the school requires so I might as well not sleep.