what i did (or didn't do) on August 30, 2001

Things to do today

  • apply for jobs during lunch hour and after:

    try to fill in three online applications today sort the list of companies into: known and prefered known and ambivalent (banks etc) known and depreciated unknown apply to prefered companies to begin with.
    i've sorted them, now I have to actually apply, god dam it.

  • buy toothpaste and razor blades
    yay, I just did this! got the new wilkonson's sword fancy blades. now i must make sure i don't mix them up with my toothpaste.
  • find resources on net describing poker rules and specifically texas holdem.
  • email/contact:
    • claire
      yup
    • the south african couple
    • laura whitlock
    • nestor
      yes
    • nikki
    • my mother:
      arrange to visit my grandmother this weekend
    • peter ofarrell: discuss south of france plans
    • brandon:
      get poker details from him
      i emailed him, now I just have to wait for him to apply. I'm playing a game on thursday, Brandon used to play in Atlantic city
  • attempt to complete letter to nikki
  • make a list of long term goals, outstanding goals.
  • get home in time to:
    have a bath tidy the living room

13:25 Well, so far this daylog is mostly a list of things that i ought to attempt, quite a lot has happened in the past week but i don't have time now to describe it, I am using these daylogs as a method for attempting to organise my life and time, it is helping quite a lot.


last,up,next.
I have become paralysed when it comes to writing in daylogs. Why? My partner, who was the one to introduce me to everything, reads them. Sometimes I just want to write about crap, express it in some way and, since I don't really have anyone around to say the stuff to, I want to spill it out into a daylog without caring what anyone thinks. go here

I cannot
I find myself unable to write anything for the fear of thinking they'll read it.
Being me, I created a nick which includes one of the two nicks I use everywhere on the 'net. This means my partner knows who I am on everything! No spilling out for me. Maybe I should have created a different username, but I didn't, and I have no wish to create a new one as what I've written so far on everything is mine and should be under the same name I use, if you know what I mean.

So, quite frequently I find myself with stuff to fill the daylog with, and just as frequently I end up writing nothing. Z, if you end up reading this, I love you. I'll get over it, do not deny yourself the reading of these daylogs, as they're waaaay too interesting to stop reading.

I ate a plate full of spaghetti for breakfast this morning. I woke up early and was milling around and suddenly I thought to myself, "You know? Spaghetti sounds really good right now." So at 5:30 AM, before work, I stood around in my pajamas making spaghetti for breakfast.

I bought an electric razor yesterday, and after using it twice, I'm sold. My old electric razor was a very cheap thing that has actually rusted. My new razor is a higher-end Norelco model, perhaps a bit more than I wanted to spend, but I think that if I use it for a few years, it will definitely have been worth the financial investment.

I wish I had a dog. A nice, small, friendly terrier. Perhaps a rat terrier.

I am amazed today that I do not simply fall off the edge of the earth and vanish. Not that I want to die, but just to disappear for a while. Maybe stop time from moving forward, even if I were utterly by myself in the time slip.

Thers's a possibility that my girlfriend will see this, having been shown it once and being a regular net procrastinator herself. Still, it's true and if the truth is toxic then the whole enterprise would be better ended anyway. Which it might be the way things are going. The girl needs a lot of comforting a lot of the time. Tending to her emotional state has become harder and harder. The fact that I'm legging it to another city in less than a month is, given the latest odds, likely to cause hairy hell.

Oh, yes. The Move. Me taking a 80% pay cut for the privilage of being a student and doing something interesting for a change. That's the plan. First I have to arrange accomodation, tie-up my responsibilty for a couple of community groups I'm involved in, go to a couple of big parties and, of course, hand in my notice tomorrow. I've been here nearly 3 months so I get to save the good news for my review meeting tomorrow.

Change, ladies and gentlemen. Often necessary. Rarely painless.

this is what scares me:

it is sunny and cloudy and cold but i'm warm. i'm sad but i've never felt so content with my existence, i'm lonely and i'm in love and he's far but i always feel him beside me telling me to listen to somethin' with more musical merit or to try to forget that the universe feels so crushing sometimes.

it scares me because it's happening all at the same time and when you're in the city it's easy to forget calm and nothingness, but here, you can think and remember everything so how is my head to keep up with it all?

do i want to write. i keep asking myself this. do i want to paint? (i wish i could paint, i know that much.) i am an artist of some sort, i think i've figured that much out. this scares me too because there seems to be so little room for any sort of artist in the world.

i wrote a node and a softlink told me to shut up and this is my response to that because i feel things like that really do need a response (not an angry one probably):

i can't. does that at least make sense to you? it hurts too much to just stop and if you understood ANYTHING i was saying then you would know that i needed to write that. i am not angry with you, except in that you were so quick to judge something you can't possibly understand. fall in love with the world, have too many thoughts at once, so many it feels like being smushed out of your own life, and then, try telling me to shut up.

"In those years formalism was part of the strategy--like asbestos gloves, it allowed me to handle materials I couldn't pick up bare-handed."--Adrienne Rich, in "When We Dead Awaken: Writing as Re-Vision", from On Lies, Secrets, and Silence, Selected Prose 1966 - 1978

So I...

...drove around back of your boarded-up heart,
by the tall weeds and packing-case caves,
where your dogs bark at anyone carrying flowers
while they struggle and pull at their chains.

...took a collection of busted-up bottles
I needed to fill in your grave--
why don't you initial one stone, in this shower
of hail-and-farewell in the rain?

Not once,                         I've said,
but once-                         too far
times-often                         from your ear,

 

"Goodbye"                         the blow--
--rhyming                         like this:
to soften                                     ?

I've had something in my eye all day. That sucks. Maybe it is my punishment for acting a bit pompous about the fact that I never get sick. (Everyone at work is sick--I haven't been sick, except for an eye infection, for well over a year.) So I get to suffer this way. Nyah!

My printer's still on drugs. No changes there.

Today my manager acted like an idiot. (I guess that's what they're paid to do.) According to a female manager of mine, he thinks women are dumb. Sucks to be him, since there are only about five or six guys on the payroll, and even his BOSS is female. Today he was being exceedingly vague about who was going to cover whose breaks and then got annoyed at me and another girl because we were confused. "I just don't see how you could be confused," he said, having not bothered to mention that he would be covering one of the breaks himself and assuming we'd just know. He also acted like I was dumb for not somehow knowing he wanted his call transferred to the café. "Do you know how to transfer a call?" he asked me. I have been with the company longer than he has. I have been with the company for OVER A YEAR. I know how to transfer a fucking call. The reason I did NOT was due to not knowing it needed doing. Feh.

I think my diet is working. We shall see, we shall see . . .

Here is my menu today:

Breakfast:
1 banana: 105 calories

Lunch:
1 apple: 80 calories
1 crescent cake: 65 calories
1 hard-boiled egg: 75 calories
1 buttermilk Eggo waffle!: 95 calories

Snack:
1½ cup salad: 15 calories
Dressing:
2 tablespoons lite Miracle Whip: 70 calories
1 tablespoon Heinz ketchup: 40 calories

Dinner:
2/3 cup peas and carrots: 50 calories
2 pickles: 20 calories
1 Morningstar Farms fake hot dog: 80 calories
1 bun for the wee thing: 80 calories
1 tablespoon Heinz ketchup also for the wee thing: 40 calories
8 fluid ounces of Sunny Delight: 120 calories

That makes 935 calories total, with a buffer of 65 to spend on stuff. Maybe I'll have another crescent cake! Mmmmmm.

Today has been a dumpy day. It's the only adjective that adequately describes today. I ended up drinking a few too many last night. This is becoming a habit and it makes me wary of all the other times in my life when demon alcohol and I have dirty danced our way through weeks at a time. I used to bartend. Those days are a little blurry in memory.

I went skating for a couple of hours this morning before school. It sounded like such a good idea - wake up, sweat out some toxins, and use some time that I would ordinarily waste hitting the snooze button repeatedly. The first horrible happening involved me rolling into a parking lot with a bunch of freshly painted parking blocks. Seconds after I hit the first of what seemed like a hundred, a police car rolls up. I didn't get a ticket but I got the whole speech about destruction of private property and what not. I rarely get tickets while skating - the last two times I've been hassled by a cop it turned out (when I pulled out my id) that I was a year or two older than Officer Caca. The second horrible thing was my assumption that kickflipping a double set of stairs would be a good way to start the morning. I overshot it and despite what I thought was a good landing - pow!. I break another $50 deck that I can't really afford to replace.

Morals of this story:

  1. The police are not my friends.
  2. Foot placement is very important.

I gave my thirty day notice to my landlord last night. The unfortunate part is that he will actually be out of town for the latter part of the month and on into next month. Despite the fact that he has been pretty cool and willing to fix appliances the day they break, I am nervous about getting my deposit back. I am not a bad tenant but somehow I've managed to lose my deposit the last three times I've moved. Ack.

To hell with it. My shift in the computer lab of isolation and despair is almost over. The skate shop is open for another couple of hours. I will sleaze on down there and have something fun to do tonight that does not involve drinking or reading excruciatingly dull textbooks. I am a fink.

Ocassionaly, I have a good day. I'm not yet sure if today was good yet.

My school gave 3 week progress reports today. At least I have A's in all my classes. I have a 90% in 9th lit, 113% in 11th lit, 97% in Algebra 2, and 105.3% in AP US History. The only grade I am really pumped about is the AP US History grade.

Normally when you get a high grade on the first report it is merely a sign that the teacher has been lazy and refused to grade work he or she assigned during the period, for instance the class I got a 113% in doesn't include the fact that I probably failed a quiz with everyone else on the same day, or the persuasive essay for building a colony I wrote, or the group project on colonies we did.

However, in AP US History, having greater than 100% at any time is a big deal. Everyone in there is smart. Out of 46 or so people taking the class this year, there are maybe 3 who might really be in over their heads. Okay so maybe a slim majority of them aren't exactly great arguments for The children are our future, but still, they are all really smart people. I think I had the highest grade in the class from either period, most people pulled somewhere from a 80-93%. There were 4 grades on the report, 10 bonus points for turning in the parent letter, (The only extra credit hes going to give us all year.) 30/30 free points just for turning in what was secretly a practice essay on how and why the Chesapeake and New England regions developed into distinct cultures. The major, in fact only diffrence, was the Unit one test. It was composed of an essay and a Multiple choice test. I made a 47/50 on the multiple choice test, most people made between a 30 to a 40 after adjustment, but that still wasn't as good as that guy who sits across from me who made a 48/50. Bastard! The diffrence maker within the test was the essay section. As many of you will wonder, no, he did not take off points for mispellings and grammatical errors. The question regarded the aspirations of the founders of the Puritan settlements in North America and to what extent those were fulfilled in the 17th century. Out of 46 or so people, I was one of two, and one of one in my period, to make a 9/9 on the essay. For some reason, this fills me with joy and happiness. The guy who sits across from me got a 6. Take that, Bastard!

I have a job interview tommorow. I need money, therefore I need a job. The job in question is working as a waiter at Rainbow Grocery in the little cafe. I am ashamed to admit that my personal appearance is very likely not quite up to snuff. However you never know unless you try. I mean it's not like i'm serving food to astrocrats or anything.
Forgive the terseness, but today I learned something simple and important that I want to share.

If you can even come close to impressing E2, then you can impress just about anybody.

But who gives a shit?

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