postsecret for the soul August 10, 2008

I think in this whole big world of new technology and the dwindling feeling of a private life has taken its toll on everyone, including me. I talk to myself constantly, due to boredom and the dog is one hell of a listener but I always feel like I’m being watched. Like everyone around me always knows everything without me even telling them. I guess that’s my own brand of paranoia but everyone has it. One thing that I find to be super anonymous and private and that I love is post secret. I have contemplated sending in bounds and bounds of postcards but never do, thinking my secrets aren’t life threatening or even life-changing. In the big picture, they probably are but I always put myself on the back burner. I’m no martyr but I’m not all about throwing myself out there either. I guess my paranoia also leads me to believe someone would follow me to the mailbox and figure it out, or it will get posted and immediately I’ll get a message saying “I know it was you”. So I’m fascinated by these people that are so brave.

I normally read through every Sunday, maybe two or three times to see what comments were great enough to be posted between the secrets. For some reason last Sunday I was struck to read the comments at the end of the entry. I mean there’s always hundreds, maybe I’m missing something. I started reading and was so shocked at what I saw. I always figured the people reading post secret were open people, mostly adults with worldly views of things. It was to my dismay I saw comments that insulted the artists of these postcards. Telling them their secrets were bad and wrong. That what they believe and cannot help is disgusting. That they’re sick and twisted for enjoying things. I was angry for all the people that sent in postcards and was heartbroken as well.

What if that was mine? What if it was my secret that these hundreds of people are saying wrong and bad and I should take a good look at myself because I’m a disgusting individual? I don’t know what I would do. People send in these postcards to get their secrets off their chests and if all goes well, find sympathy is the people that see it when posted. They know that these things they’re writing are wrong and maybe even shameful, but that’s why they are secrets and are sent in anonymously. As sort of therapy to move on, and maybe even to see that their secret doesn’t even have to be a secret at all, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. To see people bashing them, to get on their high horse behind a computer screen to judge someone that was courageous enough to let the world know what he or she thinks is outrageous.

If you have nothing nice to say don’t say anything at all. This old saying is supremely lost on the internet. And it is turning our world into a very cruel one. It is easy to judge when no one can see your flaws. It is easy to hate when no one has any evidence to hate you. There is definitely some love, but it is few and far in between the haters. This place can make anything intensely personal, wide-spread and well known in hours. And for these people to do that means something. They want sympathy and empathizers (I know, not a word). They want to feel validated that they are not alone! Just one person saying, “ME TOO!” could turn their life around. And instead of telling that person that it’s okay we all have our faults, people choose to belittle the people that are giving them entertainment. It’s weird to say that postsecret is entertaining but also much more. And everyone posted doesn’t care about the entertainment value they want to feel that much more.

I guess seeing this is an eye opening experience for me. Silly me, assuming people that have the world at their fingertips would have progressive minds. Maybe seeing everything the world has to offer has pigeon-holes some people. Seeing all these things they don’t like has just set them in their ways. Modern day Strom Thurman’s perhaps? Too little information makes you ignorant, too much information makes you..feign ignorance. I don’t know, maybe I’ve just always been one of those people that rolls with the punches. If it floats your boat, go for it. Maybe I’m just too open and non-existant standards for a human being are too progressive for the rest of the world.

I’m probably guilty of a crude comment toward people I don’t know in my youth. I’m actually quite sure of it. But I grew out of it. Maybe all those people on the postsecret comments just have to grow out of it. Maybe a few more Sundays and they’ll see how unwarranted their mean and hurtful comments were and they’ll take it back. Maybe, it’s those comments that made me grow up and see what I was doing. Maybe I’ll chalk what I read up to internet growing pains. Maybe.

All things that can presumably be my fault. July 25, 2008

I never ever keep in touch with people. I’m a big fan of the effortless friendship. The kind that you can just message someone with useless information or venting about a show you just watched without any hesitation about them caring or being like “why is she talking to me after all this time”. This spark, in turn creates hours upon hours of conversation that just happens. The type of conversation where you don’t have to announce you’re walking away from the keys, they just kinda figure it out, minimize and go on. Then when you return there’s no “where the hell did you go” because they know that in 15 minutes, they’re about to do the same to you.

I think the best friendships I have are the ones I don’t even think to work on. Regardless of the fact that we haven’t physically seen each other in months or spoken in weeks, the second that communication opens back up, we’re right back in the exact same place we left off. We’re not the type of people that ask how are you, we just immediately dive into our own self-absorbed conversations. And then make fun of each other heavily. Doing this, I believe, proves that you don’t have to ease into this round of conversating with politeness, you weed out the bullshit and assume this person knows everything about you. Chances are after a few hours of outstandingly loud and boisterous talking, you do.

The problem in this lies in the misconceptions. Being around people so often that you assume they’re your other half of this variety of friendship. Then you spend some time apart and slowly begin to realize otherwise. Why am I the one always intiating conversations? Why did I stop getting random texts in the middle of the night of things you think I care about because you’re wasted? Why do I feel ignored? I’m so terrible at keeping in touch, I don’t even know how to. I feel like I’m overbearing if I’m trying to keep this intact because I never do that! I’m aware that people grow apart, but I just don’t see a reason for it. We never stopped getting along, we grew up, but not out of each other. Maybe they have the same problem I do? It really is hard to deal with because I don’t understand why I’m missing out on things and being around people. Why am I not getting a text that you miss having me around? It kinda hurts…and really sucks. I don’t like trying hard at this and getting nothing in return. I guess I’m getting a taste of my own medicine. How many people I’ve let go of because I just don’t try and maybe they see that as me being flippant and indifferent on being close to them. Maybe I deserve this. Karma? I’m so sick of being down on myself, I need to find my niche. Filled with people just like me. And lots of money. I need me some money.

I do have another friendship problem and that stems from perspective. It’s easy to overlook things while in the moment, but when you live away for a little while you get to see the big picture. Taking a closer look at Facebook profiles or whatever, you start to see things that kind of echo previous thoughts. How about an example.

When I met this person, who I shall call Enid, I liked her. Enid was a stand up gal and we had a lot in common. The more we hung out, the closer we became. I never felt like she was ever vying for anyone’s attention, no false motives, nothing. About a year later we were living together and essentially around each other a lot more. I was older, maybe not more mature but definitely set in my ways, I know who I am, what I like, that kind of shit. Sometimes when I would mention something, Enid would immediately follow up with a me too or one of those enthuiastic I KNOW, RIGHT?’s. Statements like this are usually followed by a favorite quote, an explanation of how you entered in to such an interest, and what else you like because of that. Normally. But Enid never did. It would just be straight agreement. Then maybe a few days or weeks later she would say something to kind of, strut what she knows in the subject. When I began to realize this, I started to test it and my thoughts were confirmed. She was kind of shaping herself to not become like me, but to definitely have more in common, maybe to share a deeper bond. I know some people strive to have deep, meaningful relationships and I felt like she was creating these artificial bonds by studying up.

I discussed this issue I was having with a close friend and he agreed that I was just seeing things. I didn’t want to be cross with her or start anything so I decided the best way to go was to let it go. Maybe she would grow out of it. And I believe that she did. With me at least.

You can’t really help who you get along with. I won’t deny this. But you can control the degree at which you do. If you try really, really hard you can force a great friendship by appearing to effortlessly be this person’s other half. Now let’s bring in where I’m finding the problem. His name is now…Greg. Greg is a great guy with a ton of hobbies and an outstanding personality. Enid and I met Greg at the same time and we definitely possessed the same kind of friendship with him. I guess it’s hard to explain but I’ll just cut to the chase. When I moved away, I was immediately on the outside of this. I didn’t really know how it had excalated until I got back. When I got back it was insane the amount of texting and little jokes that was going on between the two. This is especially amazing since they’re both in relationships, but I digress. Everything he would say, she would have something to say back. She could just say something and he would laugh and get the next line. It was sick. But I’ve seen it before.

I think that because Greg is in a relationship, friendships are a little harder to maintain. So when someone presents themselves to be their other half of the type of friendship I was talking about before, that’s like the social jackpot. He doesn’t even have to try because she’s trying to hard! I get so angry when I see this because I know what she’s doing and I feel like he should be smart enough to realize that if he stopped responding to her in that way, she would be nothing. She would be just a nice girl with nothing to say because, she leeches her interests off others. She’s nothing without people. Vapid, shallow, empty. Take your pick, then. I think that’s what bothers me the most. People that cannot function without other people. Maybe I’m jealous because I always enjoy the time I have alone and think that I have a creative enough mind that I’m never really bored. I don’t ever need to be surrounded by people and I know I give off that aura. This could be a reason I’ve never had a long-term fulfilling relationship, but that makes me think that long-term relationships could quite possibly not even be fulfillling to me. But back to the point.

I can’t stand it when people can’t be on their own. When they can’t just sit and have a conversation with you without taking out their phone and fucking texting someone else. Everyone has to be so plugged in it’s ridiculous. Common courtesy dictates you speak to the person in front of you, not the one 50 miles away bored at work. And then when left to their own devices, they have nothing to say! They can’t even start a conversation with you because they have nothing to tell you. Nothing in their head sparks when they see you because your words are what does it.

I could write forever about this but I won’t. It really just frustrates the shit out of me. And you know what. All these things are not my fault.

wah wah wah July 21, 2008

I’m been kinda down lately since life blows, but oh well. I have a constant headache making it even harder to concentrate on writing anything, even though I want to. I have drafts of topics, just no will to actually write. I’ve never been one of those “woe is me” people so I don’t know how to deal with it. I guess I just need to find a job, hobby, something…or someone? winkwink

Ugh, I feel pathetic. But I don’t want anyone to feel bad. I want people to kick me in the ass and force me into things. I mean, not bad things…good things. I don’t want pity so I’m going to stop.

I want it to rain real bad. Thunderstorm kind of shit. Lightning I hear crack. Thunder that shakes the house. I love that.

Waiting… July 14, 2008

My cup runneth over with thoughts of my future. I don’t really like talking about what I would like to happen, because I would just be setting myself up for disappointment. Of course, I would be disappointed anyway since I have these thoughts, but at least it’s not public, right? It’s not like they’re these huge thoughts of grandeur and a life that people would be envious of. I just want a stable life, a place of my own and a full social circle.

I feel way too stressed out to even do things that I love to do. I haven’t touched a book and have no drive to draw or be creative in anyway. I need something to fall into place so I can get that back. I know it’s still in me because I have the drive, but when I sit down to do something I just can’t. I can’t concentrate on reading because my mind is wandering, wondering if I got that job or when I’m going to get one. If I sit down with a pad of paper, nothing inspiring comes to me. Come to think of it, half the time that I’m watching TV I’m not even paying attention. If I had just a little focus, I’m sure my days would consist of a lot more.

Maybe I’ll try and teach myself some CSS to jazz this place up. hm…

I will eat your souuuuuuuuuuuul! July 13, 2008

Being sick is the worst. I’ve become nothing short of a space cadet. I don’t know if it’s the antibiotics or the…other stuff. I can’t really think straight. Maybe it’s the actual sickness. My head feels heavy, but I’m light-headed. I can’t remember what I ate for dinner. If I have energy for a fleeting moment I can’t do anything that would extend passed that time, I just fall into a stupor of sorts. Like I’m stoned out of my face and just sit there, mind wandering. I wish this would wear off after two hours though, geez. It is most definitely caused by something in this house though. Once I start working I bet I’ll get better.

I hate when people constantly refer to a great quality they have. Especially when the quality is completely subjective. For instance, “I’m a great friend”. Fuck you, how do you know? Unless everyone is giving detailed reports and constant feedback on your actions and how they effect said friendships, how do you know? I hate that shit. Saying it over and over may be helping to validate it to yourself but I bet everyone around you rolls their eyes. The only time saying that is acceptable is if you do something really great and is only allowed to be said for five minutes after first interaction that would caused this to be exclaimed. Or it can be used when you were being quite the bad friend in sarcastic tones.

While on the topic, I’ll go ahead and give the rundown of my top three hates. I’ve honed these while at college. When you’re never alone and in a new environment, annoyances build up and turn into monsters that can ruin relationships. My number one has been with my since I had a memory, being woken up by someone touching me. An alarm is bad enough, considering I had to be up at an hour that I couldn’t wake up for on my own, but having someone touch me to wake me up instantly turns the prospective day into a nightmare. I don’t understand why anyone would do it to begin with. If I can’t hear you talking to me I’m obviously out like a fucking light, why would you touching my arm wake me up? This pretty much stems from my (I guess) phobia of being touched. This has since gone away, but the first thing that I think when I meet someone is, “would I let them touch me”? Not in a bad way or anything, like hand-on-the-shoulder harmless touching. If they can’t and they do, I immediately had to take a shower or change what I was wearing. I don’t know I’m weird. I had to leave that behind along with a love of personal space once I got to college but I guess while sleeping it still has a hold on me. Which is why I’ll flip a shit if you touch me to wake me up.

The second thing I hate is when people talk while watching TV. It’s fine if the TV is just background noise and it was never paid attention to, to being with. But if I’m part of an audience that is completely enraptured by a program, I want to hear the TV, not you commenting on it. I don’t need things repeated because funny thing, I’m not deaf and the person on TV was speaking clearly. I don’t care if something on TV reminded you of something else. I’m watching TV. If I wanted to hear about that time a raccoon was in your basement I would say, “Hey, why don’t you tell us all about that time a raccoon was in your basement. I’m sure it’s a story that’s better than the television program”. I’m obviously out of line with this, considering I probably do talk over the TV. I try and wait for a commercial break or if I see no one is really interested I’ll speak. I try to not because then I’d be one of those people called hypocrites.

And thirdly, loud eaters. This is the most disgusting quality anyone can have. I hate when people smack their lips, chew with their mouth open or need to make noises like “mmm” while eating. If it tastes good, finish chewing and then follow up with a remark about how delicious the salmon is. I actively make sure that I don’t do this. I know a lot of other people that feel the same way so I don’t want to be that person that they talk about. And I have no qualms about telling the loud eater. I’m usually the ice breaker with a “holy shit, shut your mouth”, and then others will usually agree. I had a roommate that used to eat so loud she would wake me up. Get that? A double hate combo. I still resent her.

I don’t know why I felt compelled to write this. Something was festering in my mind and with no outlet I was starting to obsess about it. Hopefully writing gets it out. Like that memory holder thing Dumbledore uses. Yeah, I said it.

I am le tired… July 12, 2008

I’ve had an insomnia problem as far back as I can remember. I’m not about to look up the technicalities that make insomnia insomnia, so I’ll change that to sleeping issues.

I always always always get wound-up as my head hits the pillow. I curbed this for a while by listening to music. Songs that have enough tempo that I’m listening and keeping my mind from wandering, but also somber enough that I can sleep while still listening. I’ll usually wake up a little bit after and take out my headphones, but then I fall back asleep. So this is a pretty solid method, but then of course I have to be in the mood for that kind of music or else I just change it to something that is not conducive to sleep at all.

But I digress: to my childhood. Having ADD was an issue then, but it’s not like I knew any better as an eight year old literally bouncing off the walls at nine at night. The problem was the medication I was taking. It suppressed every desire I had to walk away from schoolwork and anything I was forced to keep my mind on. So when it wore off, every ounce of energy that was sitting inside of me came out in an explosion. I only had four to five hours for a day’s worth to get out. I would run laps around the house, play outside with my fat dog, stuff pillows under my clothes and literally bounce off walls. I would talk and talk and talk. But there was never enough time. I would always close my door and try and do things as quietly as possible while “asleep”. I would lay in bed, and rip off the wallpaper I was so bored(my mom really got me with that one, boy).

Once I reached middle school, I realized it was the meds doing this to me. I stopped taking them, without the knowledge of my mother or doctor, and became the sleep monster. I would come home from school and take a two hour nap and then go to sleep around 11, maybe later if I was having a particularly interesting conversation about things that 13 year-olds talk about. It was around this time that I really honed my ability to lie to someones face. I can stare you straight in the eye and rattle off the biggest lie in the history of mankind and not even flinch. I would probably even go off on a rant about respect and how dare you think that of me. I’m good, no lie.

Not until college did I realize that these magic pills helped me do things I didn’t want to even as an adult, like homework. Being that I lived at school, getting to bed by a certain time was no longer a priority. I didn’t have my mom standing over me telling me to go to sleep because I have class at 8:20. Once school began, the only time I was asleep was when I was achingly tired. I would get maybe four hours a day and lived like that for four years. I would take my meds when I was about to study, I didn’t care if it was 10pm, I needed it. This was all well in fine, I would nap between classes or get a few hours right before a morning class. But then things changed a little.

I’m not going to go into details, for the fact that I was doing a lot of illegal things during this time. Long story short, found out that when you smoke weed while taking these drugs, it enhances the effects beautifully. I later learned that THC stimulates the same neurons that the medication does to produce more dopamine in the brain, so it all added up quite nicely. I would be able to study non-stop for ten hours straight. I would time it correctly so that I wasn’t coming off it til around the time of the test. I would blow through every test and feel like I couldn’t write enough. I would want to just write extra essays to prove that I studied and I studied hard. During midterms and finals I would stay up for days straight. Of course the crash was…intense to say the least. Headaches, body aches, my jaw would be sore from clenching. And the amount of sleep was astounding. The second I would come back from the last test I would pass out and sleep for probably 15 straight hours. And then I would roll over and sleep for six more. A few weeks would go by, I’d have a big test and do it again.

Being that sleep was never a priority unless I was recovering for some…illegal and dangerous doings, this crossed over to my attitude about work once I graduated. I would give myself double shifts, stay later than necessary and stay out late even if I had work at 8 the next morning. Sleep is for the dead, I would always say. If I wasn’t working over 40 hours a week my managers took notice and even asked why I wasn’t around. I would go into work early everyday so I could chug an energy drink before my shift and buy another one for later when I feel it wearing off. Toward the end of my time there I would get migraines of I didn’t have a Red Bull or two a day. A few months before I had made a conscious decision to stop drinking Diet Coke because of the caffeine and I got myself in ten times deeper. Story of my life? Possibly.

Even with all the drugs, energy drinks and jobs I had, if I was tired before sunrise and was expecting a few hours I was sadly mistaken. I cannot fall asleep when its dark out. If I go to sleep while it’s light out, I can sleep through the night. But never ever ever if I try anytime passed nine. I would, and still do, lay in bed for hours hoping to get passed this. I’ll even take Benadryl sometimes to aid me if I’m especially frustrated with my sleep habits, but it barely works. I’ll fall asleep but wake up every half hour, until sunrise. I’m sure there is someone I could see about this, but I have no insurance. I could bet that once I have insurance, presumably with a job attached, I’ll be sleeping like a baby.

So here I am, 3AM and sleep is nowhere in sight. I was awake at 7AM for an interview and got in a little nap around 6PM. I’m overwhelmingly tired, I only got a solid hour of sleep last night and would love to be able to just pass out right now. I haven’t been awake before noon without the help of an alarm for months. I wish I had my sleep anytime, anywhere mentality still, I would give my nonexistent left nut for it. I would probably be a nicer person and could accomplish more in a day. If I went to sleep at a normal hour, I bet I wouldn’t be freaked out about a mouse in the house, because I never would’ve seen it.

Oh well. Good thing Firefox has Stumble, or else I would be stuck staring at the ceiling for three more hours…

Workin’ hard for that cheese July 10, 2008

Well, I’m not. I used to. I worked really hard and I was proud of the kind of worker I was. I have always felt that if I’m getting paid to do something I should do it so it is worth my while as well as my employers. It isn’t like this kind of work ethic was instill in me when I was a little kid. I wasn’t even pushed toward having a job in high school. To get money I would clean the house on the weekend and maybe do office work for my mom. Not until the summer between freshman and sophomore year did I get a job; and not until my senior year in college did I have a job that extended passed the summer months. So, I guess it’s always good to know that I have this in me from the get-go and it’s even something that when I see other people slacking gets me mad. I’m a horrible tattle taler for that reason. I know that is an abominable quality to have but shit, if I’m not slacking, no one better be slacking.

I can’t really say I remember what my intent was in writing this. I went off on a bit of a tangent and I have to short-term memory of a goldfish. So I’ll just go with what I’m thinking about right now.

The job search is frustrating to say the least. Especially using sites like Monster and CareerBuilder, it looks like there’s either too many jobs to apply to or nothing you had in mind. Just about every company, especially on CareerBuilder, looks sketchy and if I go far enough to Google them, it’s hard to distinguish what company it is since they all have vague names. Just about every poster that contacts me doesn’t take the time to read my resume and I’m positive of that. The few I’ve actually talked to always sound surprised when I tell them I’m inexperienced in the corporate field. I don’t understand this; I have had three jobs and they were all in retail or sales. Nowhere in explanation of these jobs did I ever say anything remotely about business to business sales! Now why would you assume I was? Desperate for employees in this area? I just don’t get it.

A lot of headhunters contact me too. And I’m not going to lie to a headhunter because I don’t want anyone to find me a job I’m severely under qualified for. The internet is already doing that. I’ve had my resume up for about a month and this week is the first time I’ve found jobs I feel qualified for. And not just working at the Adidas store in Time Square. That’s nice and all but I specifically stated entry-level. I want a job I can grow into and feel comfortable within the company.

Now I don’t want to count my chickens, but this one company feels right. The way they contacted me, the job description, the nice woman I talked to. I was very open and realistic about what this job meant for me and she laughed and agreed with me wholeheartedly. I’m never enthusiastic and getting me to talk on the phone is like pulling teeth. I can’t just be on the phone so I immediately occupy myself with something else and then I forget I was even having a conversation. So for her to write in the confirmation e-mail that it was nice talking to me, felt kinda good.

I feel like this fell in my lap and if it works out I know it won’t be because of my drive toward getting a job. I stopped answering my phone and didn’t really feel like explaining myself to people anymore. I want to start a real-life adult job but something is just stopping me. I bet if I got a psychological evaluation I could make the state think my ADD has formed into something that just stops me from being productive in a business setting. Then I’d get a bunch of money for being mentally sick. I’m sure that looks great on a resume. haha

Being sick by the way, not conducive to writing.

One day I woke up and realized… July 8, 2008

My taste in music has always been somewhat different from my outward persona. I’m loud, crude and I think borderline autistic with my horrid social skills. Too honest too fast, too forward, and not outwardly enthusiastic about anything. But I’m not about to analyze my social skills because I’m sure much more goes on that I’m blind to so why bother. So back to my music.

I like mellow, calming music that’s still loud and full. I fall asleep to classical music and while listening to Claire De Lune one night, high out of my mind I watched the song and saw the story unfold in front of me. It was super intense. I don’t really listen to lyrics, I like melodies and beats. While I don’t really care what they’re singing about the voice has to be able to melt into all the other sounds. Even if it’s a unique voice it can still find itself a niche in the rhythms and beats. I mean, I sing along and enjoy a great line, but it’s by no means a deal breaker in liking a song. But when a voice is filled with feeling and emotion that can absolutely make the song.

Muse has been one of my favorite bands, if not the favorite band, for about six years now. They sound so full and rich and big. And then when it’s a light, romantic song it is perfectly pretty. It’s beautiful music. Their lyrics on such songs can be so big and mean so much. They look at things in a different light and its always cool to listen to something and be like, “Huh, I never thought of it like that before”. I like them so much I don’t feel like any description I can give would justify the kind of stupor I fall into whenever I hear their music. One time I was getting food inbetween classes and on a TV in the food area, Muse came on with a song I’ve never heard before. I just stood there and watched the entire thing. Actually, quite a few people were watching. Amazing band.

I don’t know exactly what genre Muse falls besides ‘extreme awesomeness’ into but I listen to a whole bunch of what I would call ambient indie-pop. Doves, Ambulance LTD, As Tall As Lions, Death Cab For Cutie, The Stills, Keane, it is an endless list. Stuff that is great to listen to while studying or doing productive things. You know you don’t have to skip songs because they map out CDs with perfection and every song is great. Sometimes it can get depressing but it’s not like the whole CD is a “woe is me, my life is horrible” pity party. Isn’t really high energy but enough that you can feel the beat and still get in a groove. The worst part about listening to this kind of music is that there isn’t a huge audience for it. The Stills are a great band but their sophomore album charted the first week but then fell off the face of the earth. I’ve been to their website recently and it hasn’t been updated in a long time. It just sucks that some of these bands have such a short life because they just aren’t heard. I think if everyone listened to them they would be huge. I love them so, of course I have to say that.

Other bands that I listen to I kind of fell into. These are the ones that someone turned me on to or I just so happened to hear them somewhere and liked. Kind of all over the place, genre-wise, but definitely high-energy. I first listened to Interpol while walking through Victoria Station in London and now forever equate a Brooklyn band with that trip. We Are Scientists were first introduced as a funny band website and they have pretty good music. They give a good live show too. I’ve been listening to Modest Mouse since high school but didn’t really get into them until the end of college. While in Florida I would listen to We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank everyday on the way to work. It’s hard listening to mellow music and then be excited to work so I tend to stick this kind of music. What got me off the MM kick was Kate Nash. Simple music and melodies that lend themselves to cunny, witty lyrics. It’s not often you listen to music and smirk at a lyric about a boyfriend that’s being, and I quote, “a dickhead”. Bloc Party and Arctic Monkeys I feel go hand in hand, if you listen to one you have to listen to the other. Speaking of, I completely lost my copy of the single Brianstorm. Is it still illegal to download it if I did buy it at one point? Lately I’ve been listening to Shwayze, the kind of rap I feel is made for white people (lolz).

Sometimes I feel like I listen to the obvious choices of everyone that listens to that kind of music. Like if I was to go to an Interpol concert it would be people like me and then the people that are really into them and can name ten other bands they listen to that are like Interpol. Like, Interpol is an obvious choice to listen to but you aren’t really cool unless you listen to band x and band y that are just like Interpol but lesser known thus infinitely cooler. It’s a silly fear or whatever but feeling like a poser never feels good. I think that may be why when people ask me what kind of music I listen to, it’s a hard question. What if I say a band and then they’re all like, “OMG I love them! Do you listen to _____ too? I think they’re both such great bands, I’m going to see them in concert next month!” God that frightens me for some reason. Someone should just write LOSER on my forehead.

I do think I pigeon hole myself a lot when it comes to music. Unless a single strikes me, or someone urges me to listen to something I just don’t. I don’t listen to the radio since its filled with filth and it’s not like MTV or VH1 play videos at a reasonable hour. I used to watch Subterranean on MTV2 to find new music. Now I have become a scavenger and because of that I don’t really try to hard. I know I like Doves, so I see who they tour with. When I buy a Muse CD on Amazon.com I look to see what it recommends. But that’s pretty much it. Listening to the same sound, kind of gives me a sixth sense to pick up bands that sound like what I like. It isn’t too often I hear something and think, “Wow that’s different maybe I should give them a try”. I do listen to singles by people/bands but then never think to hear more. I just don’t want to grow into one of those old people that yells at the young whippersnappers to turn down their devil music. Yuck, a horrible way to turn out.

Musical insecurities are silly. I love the music I listen to and when it comes down to it, that is all that matters. If I’m not keeping up with trends or friends that’s just fine. Not everyone has the same ear and that’s awesome. Music is my love. Can’t go a day without it. <3

Tremendous excitement within July 6, 2008

I’ve been working on working on being more in touch with the world. None of that crazy hippie kind of shit, but like news and stuff. I hate not being able to be part of a conversation because you just have idea what’s going on.

I figured a good place to start is geography. I used to kill it in school. I could fill in an entire African map. I could name all the capitals in South America. Fuck Asia; I never knew there was a place named Cambodia til I met a girl in college from there and now I’m left to believe that all women from Cambodia are physically intimidating but gorgeous. So they’ll woo a man then break his neck when he starts acting up. But anyway, I have a brain for memorizing things like maps.

In 8th grade my social studies teacher liked to have us make semantic maps about different things and then present them in class. I had a skill for mapping out any area of the US without distorting the last state drawn in. Needless to say I was student of the month after my phenomonal interpretation of Manifest Destiny in map form. I’m amazing. Or at least was. I can’t even name half the state capitals now. Sad.

A good place to start is the former Soviet satellites. Half, well actually maybe more than half, didn’t exist when I was learning about this area geographically. I found a little quiz online to see what I did know and it was nothing. So I found a map and got to studying it. I copied it and began getting to know the area and realized that Kosovo wasn’t on there. I didn’t even know that they only declared themselves independent of Serbia only a few months ago. So there I go, learning! I’m all about southeast Asia now. With all the natural disasters plummeling this area I figured I should be able to locate these places. A guy from Singapore I work with asked me if I thought Singapore was part of China. I immediately said no, but can’t say that was the truth. And until right now, I thought it was a lot closer…and bigger.

I think I should make my very own encyclopedia of things I’m relearning. I’m probably going to wind up writing reports on a lot of these places just to learn more about them. That would actually be an amazing thing for me to do, being that International Relations is my degree. Funny how it still interests me. I think because it was never shoved down my throat and its quite impossible for me to find a job without a second degree. So having it become more than an interest in my life is unlikely.

It’s too bad that by the end of next week I’ll lose a lot of steam on something. And this is a perfect example of how medication can change my life that’s plagued with this silly disorder. I bet I would have a job if I had motivation through pills.

Let’s just say… July 4, 2008

I used to work at a cute establishment that is big among families. That doesn’t set traps to catch its mice.

My favorite part of my work day, bar none was my breaks. Not because they got me away from work, I mean it was hard to call it that, I loved my job. But I loved the break room/cafeteria. You could just pick a quote on the wall or stare at a movie poster and zone the fuck out for a good 30 minutes before returning to happy, charming you. There was a guy that worked merchandise in another area that somewhere along the lines bought a universal remote to change the channel on the TV. For all us others sans remote, we would have to climb up on a chair and stretch to reach the buttons. I bring him up because I knew that it was him unknowingly ruining quite a few of my breaks.

Especially towards the end of my time there, I noticed the abundance of Nancy Grace in my life. I don’t believe that anyone should be subjected to that. One day while working a mid-shift I actually got my break before the cafeteria closed. I’m sitting there happily eating a dinner that was a rarity in my life at the time and this dude pulls out his remote and turns on Headline News. Oh no he di’nt. The TVs always start out on ESPN and ABC. If there’s a big sports going-on, that’s turned on. Plus everyone is usually too burnt from working to change the channel. So I’m convinced it’s this bitch making me watch Nancy Grace.

When the Texas Mormon Fundamentalists were big huge news, Nancy Grace couldn’t shut her face about it. One night I went to a smaller break room since those vending machines take credit cards. Nancy Grace is on talking about these kids and how they’re so young to be married and blah blah blah. Every person she had come on she would let talk for .5 seconds then tell them to stop because they don’t know what they’re saying and then bring out a expert on the subject to shut them down. Then of course she would question the expert’s facts because she’s a twat that can’t be wrong. So I had 30 minutes of arguing and Mormonism fill my break. Can’t say that left me in a good mood.

The next day, the next break, I go to the big break room, they have comfier seating. But how can you be comfortable when Nancy Grace is on yelling at everyone in this universe and all surrounding ones. 41 BROKEN BONES. 41 BROKEN BONES. BUT 41 BROKEN BONES! Everyone on the show agreed that that fact is astonishing but when they would try and be like “the fact that their was so much sexual abuse in young boys, is another thing that is outrageous too” she would shut them down. And not even with a “that’s not what we are discussing at this moment” she would start shouting at them 41BROKEN BONES! 41 BROKEN BONES! Until they eventually all fell silent to her scathing voice.

I went back to work after my break and couldn’t help but interrupt everyone with “BUT 41 BROKEN BONES!” for the rest of the night. I did think out loud a question that night though, concerning doctors on the Mormon’s compound and couldn’t really find a definitive answer anywhere later that night. But like some weird sign from above, on Nancy Grace the next day they explained who the doctor was on the compound and his credentials and everything. I don’t enjoy getting facts from Nancy Grace so I lie and say I forgot where I heard it from. So…this is between us.

The fact that a schmuck like Nancy can have a show is what makes it hard to watch the news. I love me some Anderson Cooper but find cable news hard to digest. So obviously left-wing or right-wing doesn’t make me tune in. Regardless of my stance on issues, I want some reporting that is facts. All the facts. I want the facts about McCain calling his wife a cunt. I want facts about Obama’s failings. And I want them on the same channel. Well, no I don’t really, that was just an example. Politics isn’t about past foibles and personality flaws. But politics is a whole other story that I will probably never touch because after studying other countries for years and earning a degree in their systems and relations, the US political machine is sickening and not worthy of time. It would be nice if others could realize this and then, and only then can a positive change be made. Idealism is stupid. I’m done on this.

And one more thing.Happy fourth of July.