The semester will be done as soon as I write an eight page paper for my Latin American Literature class and submit it online. I haven't even started yet, and it's due by midnight.
I ended up working a ten hour shift last night. It was absolutely horrible. I was suppose to work from one to nine-thirty, but the lady who was suppose to work from five to eleven called in. So, not only did I work from one to eleven, I was alone at the service desk from seven on...which, during the holiday season, is not a pleasant experience.
I got home and my legs were killing me! But, I took a soak, and all was well.
I also got my secret santa gift from, my Kappa Kappa Psi Brother, at work last night. We had a holiday party (that I missed because of work), but Sara brought my gift to Meijer for me. She gave me fuzzy socks, chocolate, homemade fudge and lotion. The chocolate and socks helped me to get through the rest of my night!
Anyway, off I go to start organizing and writing. Wish me luck!
We're packing and I still feel like it's morning. Rueben went to go get my car from Don and Steve's apartment, and I'm taking a break from going through things.
After I got out of work last night I met Rueben at Don and Steve's and had a few. We ended up staying up the whole night talking and then went to Lil' Chef at 6:30. Then, Rueben and I came home and went to bed. Lil' Chef is six doors down from our apartment, so Steve drove to breakfast and we walked home. Rueben's gone to get my car, which has banana boxes in it from work so we can start packing. We also need to go do laundry.
I've realized that final exams week (starting tomorrow!) is actually going to be a relatively easy week, at least compared to what I'm use to. I have one big exam per day, and an eight page paper due on Thursday, but I think I'll be just fine. I could skip the exam in most of my classes and still pass with a C or higher, so I'm in good shape.
We're moving on Friday and I've started sorting through our food and planning what we need to eat until then. I still need to go start packing my room, and, of course, clean.
But I don't really understand why I should clean, they're just going to knock our building down anyway. But...I want my money back, so I'll do it.
I'm going to miss our little apartment...but our new one has a huge kitchen, a dishwasher, and Jessie.
"We'll get through somehow, this is only temporary/ Not now, but soon/ We'll be living in the future."
Today is my 20th birthday. I feel quite old, but know that I'm still one of the youngest people I know. How does that happen?
I guess I'm finally caught up to myself. People have been guessing that my age was 20 since I was 16.
I'm not about to do a year in review, I don't have enough time or motivation for that, but I will take a moment to make a few general statements for posterity sake (or so I say).
I'm a sophomore in college now, and that has made me a stronger, better person. Being a Brother in Kappa Kappa Psi has made me part of something larger than myself, and that's always something I had felt I was missing.
In the past year, I have become more liberal than ever, even toying with the idea of Socialism in the form of Democracy.
Unfortunately, I only watched Mrs. Doubtfire about 12 times (that's only once a month!)
I have met some amazing people that recognize me for who I am, and can understand that I am different people sometimes.
I have grown more responsible, less fearful, but more worried.
But, above all, I am here, and I made it, and that's something that I didn't think would ever happen four years ago, today.
::
2007 27 November :: 1.59pm
:: Music: Life is beautiful
Deprivation
I think I've broken my body. It took me only 21 years, but I think I've finally got it on the ropes, and I have proof.
I can't sleep. At all.
I just wind up staring at the ceiling, and getting that half ass sleep that isn't really refreshing so much as it is irritating. Oh, and your mind goes to bad places when you can't sleep, bugging you about things you shouldn't think about.
The semester here is nearly over, and its about damn time. I'm already at that point where I want it to be over, but hey guess what? I'm a fucking freshman, so I'm nowhere near done. I'm actually getting started! wheeeee. Next semester will be where its at, as I've never completed a spring semester in the past 2 years without giving up, quitting, skipping, etc. etc. I'm curious to see if I have that fuckit mentality again. I hope not, but I won't be surprised if it surfaces.
I made my [Brass Hammer] last night, and despite some slight tolerance issues, I got 100% on it. If you guys saw my handiwork in high school and middle school shop, maybe you just shat yourself. Hell, if you've ever seen me try to do anything more complicated then change a light bulb, you should be shitting yourself. But I ran that lathe machine like a PRO. PRO I say. Even though I had no idea what I was doing yesterday due to sleep exhaustion and general lack of knowledge about drill presses and advanced lathe functions. But hey, its done, and I'll probably get an A or a B+ in that class, so rock on.
Other than that, I got nothing. I'm not sleeping, its freezing, I'm hungry...but I'm still somewhat happy. I blame Trans-Siberian Orchestra, as that will be epic on saturday night, and I can hardly wait.
I've been working so much lately. Yesterday was horrible at work. "Black Friday" makes me want to kill someone, or a lot of people.
But, I did get some humor out of it all. I was doing a Western Union Transfer for a lady, and one of the other people at the desk asked for my help and the lady was like, "No, you need to do this for me now, I'm in a hurry."
So I said, "Okay" and went as slow as I possibly could. I am normally very fast at typing and processing the transfer, but I made sure to look over everything a few times before I sent it. Then, when I gave her the receipt, she ripped it out of my hands and tromped away.
I hate my job.
And people at the desk are dropping like flies. One guy went to the pharmacy two weeks ago, and another girl found a new job. She said she'd come in for her last few shifts (Thursday through this Sunday), but she hasn't shown up yet. This is not the season where you don't show up to work.
Ah, well, the semester is almost over, only two more weeks and then exam week.
Rueben and I are moving into another apartment on the fifteen of December because the people we're with right now are giant assholes. But, Jessie is coming to Central and we'll all live together in our four bedroom town house happily ever after. Yes.
I have to write and give an after dinner speech on Wednesday. I have nothing. I guess I'll just wait for the last minute, like always.
I gave myself the morning off from classes. It felt so good to SLEEP. They gave me thirty hours this week, and next week. I don't know how I'm going to be handling that, but I guess I'll find out.
Papers to write, but I have four hours now, so that shouldn't be a problem. I need to take some time off more often.
It's Monday morning and I've had a very long weekend. I worked last night until eleven, went home, and wrote a paper for this morning. I didn't write the other paper that I needed to, but I'm sure she said something about we can wait until Wednesday to do it. I hope, at least.
I'm working thirty hours this week. Although I don't have school on Thursday or Friday, it's still going to be hell. I'm going home on Thursday so Rueben and I can go to his family's Thanksgiving. Then we're driving back up the same day so I can work on Black Friday. Ugh.
Now, off to Communication Theory, which strangely, I've come to enjoy.
::
2007 12 November :: 11.44pm
:: Mood: aggravated
:: Music: Old school Kirby stuffs
Petty annoyances
So, lately I've been depressed, and have been unable to locate the source of this depression. I've discovered the truth behind it, and while I don't like the answer, I've accepted it.
I truly live for the weekend. I hate the weekdays, and most people I meet. While a few weeks ago I learned that drowning my sorrows in booze is nowhere near the answer that I seek, surrounding myself with friends and family is.
Had a great time with phil and nate on friday, though I got the impression that nate's woman wanted to rip my head off. That won't be the last chick I drive to a murderous state of mind.
Saturday and sunday were spent hanging out with david. I'm amazed at the nothing we can do, and yet I enjoy myself so much. One of these times we will actually do something, god willing, that doesn't involve booze or sitting around all night.
The other problem is that if I'm not with someone on the weekend, I get lonely, and that has become devestating for me. The whole over-analyzing thing bites me in the ass, and I contemplate many things that I shouldn't, such as things involving heather, my friends, my 'distant' family, myself, hell, even Katie Albrecht. I mean, srsly, what the fuck is wrong with me?
A stupid girl today reminded me that most people are worth dick. She was talking on her phone, and followed me nearly all the way to class. With speakerphone on. For about 5 minutes, I got to listen to two typical valley girls chat it up. Yeah, no problems there.
After Lara (the girl using her speakerphone) told Sandy that she couldn't figure out why Jamal left him, I spun around and replied, "Maybe because you are whiny, or self centered, or stupid. Maybe we can just combine all three and say he left you because you are a whiny, self centered, stupid bitch." She then looked at me and said, "Don't butt into my conversations!" We argued, but I eventually copied a move from david's book and used the over exaggerated head nodding with a goofy smile technique. It was super effective.
For some reason, I haven't given a damn what anyone thinks about me since then. All it took was a huge moron to remind me why people aren't shit, or at least most of them out there. Now to finish that homework that I've been avoiding for about three hours...though this kirby game won't play itself...dammit.
Tale of Predictability
So, I finally dropped out of trig. Since I couldn't maintain a 60% in that class, I figured it was a good idea, especially considering how the plastics degree works. Time for a job, though I have virtually no faith in actually finding one, as I haven't been able to get employed since Cutco came to me.
I'm reading Tale of Two Cities, and I really don't get why everyone praises this garbage. It has the same predictability any other author from the past has, where you can just expect the worst to happen and be right 90% of the time. It is especially awesome how authors stick their noses up in the air and say, "Television is so predictable with their happy endings and perfect conclusions, writing will never be that way." Yeah, you guys show us. Make your books predictable with their sad endings and 'thought provoking' conclusions. No, I'm sure nobody will be able to pick up on your subtle hints of the main character being a modern day jesus christ. *ROLL EYES HERE, LOL*
I'm just tired of reading this rubbish, and I'm thankful this is the last time I'll have to read anything like this. Dickens pretty much told you the ending in the very beginning, or gave you enough hints to come preeeeeetty damn close to figuring it out for yourself. So now I read all the parts in between with 'character development' and 'suspense'. Really, just kill off Sydney Carton who is actually pretending to be Darney. I don't give a flying fuck about anyone else, just stop trying to pretend like you are going to do otherwise.
There is a short chapter where it convinces someone who hasn't read a book from the past like everything will be ok, because Dickens just wanted to fuck with people, and build development. Just...bleh.
Manic McGee...does anyone remember that? That book is the very last I remember reading that was required to be read that I enjoyed. Characters died, lessons were learned, and good times were had too. Not this MARTYR MARTYR MARTYR shit that I have to read years upon years in a row. A life is a fragile thing, our innocense died, good and bad, I get it, I get it. I just don't CARE. That one story...1944 maybe? Chris would remember it. That was pretty good too, though Chris's constant reminders and assertions that I was the crazy athletic guy and he was the kid who PUSHED said athletic kid off a tree trunk was kind of unnerving. Thats why I never let him in my treehouse.
Fuck, I think I wall of text'd again. Anyway, later kiddies.
Rekindled
So, it has been awhile, again. But, after seeing Jessi(e?) in Chicago, I'm totally gonna do this again. Totally. First, I'll do some generic shit for myself.
1) I'm no longer dating Heather. That ended a few months ago. Painful, and I'm forever scarred. /tear and all that.
2) I'm not at Central anymore. After doing jack shit for 2 years, I decided to get out of there, and I'm at Ferris now, majoring in plastics.
3) The plastics program at ferris is for the design, manufacture, and all that shit of plastics.
4) I'm SLIGHTLY drunk right now.
So, on thursday afternoon, Amanda and I took off for the HIM concert in Chicago, and I must admit I didn't have high expectations. I don't hate HIM, but I don't adore them the way some people do. I just dig a few of their songs and figured they might be checking out. Here is the problem with heading there though, I never asked myself an important question.
Who is the opening act?
We walked in and Congress Theator is just amazing. It has a huge HUGE roof that once they fix up will look great and could be incorporated into some shows and whatnot. There were screens set up that read, "Bleed Through". I figured out that they were the opening act, and I thought, "Oh, maybe they have a my chemical romance sound, or some generic angsty sound like the plain white T's.
Oh, if only.
Out they came, and I realized right away that my ears were in for a world of hurt. It definately didn't help that I was standing right next to the speakers, and they let loose with their first song, "The guitarist and I are in a loud contest. I'm totally going to beat him". After that earsplitter was over, he let fly with, "My voice is a giant penis and I'm going to fuck you in the ears". I didn't care for that one either.
Afterwards he made an announcement that was basically, "It is an honor for us to tour with fucking HIM. It takes some big fucking balls to put a fucking band like us being the opener for them, so it just goes to show you what kind of fucking band they are."
He continued to blab, and finally said, "Now, I want to fucking make some fucking noise in this fucking bitch and fucking have all of you fuckers moshing in the first fucking rows! I WANT TO SEE THE FUCKING HORNS!!!" and began playing. He then repeated this process for every song. The highlight of them playing was when we both looked each other in the eye, and I shot daggers right at his face.
After they assaulted my ears with another 3 songs, some questions occured to me. Why did they have a keyboard player? It was a chick, so I'm assuming for the boobs. I mean, all I heard was the singer and the guitar player, and I was next to the damn speakers. Was she just their to voice the words and really bang on those keys?
Before playing a song, the singer spoke about his grandfather passing away a week earlier, and said he was going to sing for him or something. I expected a slow song, but it was really fast, and I SWEAR he was repeating, "Big whore, big whore, big whore!" over and over.
After they walked off, I realized that HIM would have to rock my socks double time to make up for this atrocity they put me through. After 30 minutes, they finally came on stage, and, wow, they did.
For those of you that turned down going to see them the past few years, I laugh in your face. It was very worth it. The best part for me was the lead guitarist who is Lindee...I think. He is pretty much Phil, with dredlocks. It was pretty badass. Though, Ville, the lead singer, was up there chain smoking after every song, which I'll admit was impressive. I mean, he smoked in some of videos and behind the scenes stuff I saw, but I didn't know he was kick ass enough to just smoke through a show.
They sounded pretty good too. I have trouble hearing Ville's voice, but everything was just done really well. Sound, lights, hell, I actually laughed at one of his jokes. I was blown away, I really didn't expect it to be that good. There is something that bothers me though.
The horns. They are sacred. You never throw them up for any ol' shmuck who can play a chord or two. Yet, that is exactly what was happening. HIM has a pretty decent collection of songs in terms of tempo and sound, but when they are singing Joy and Sorrow, which you must admit doesn't sound very metal or heavy, and there are 100 idiots around me throwing the horns, it definately hurts its value. There was one instance I actually threw them up, and it was during one of Lindee's solos. Other than that, no way. Nothing else was deserving. They are sacred, and they are being tainted and abused, and it made me sad.
After that, we went to Jess's house like thing and stayed there for the night. I did some catching up, and decided that I should totally start using woohu again.
So, I'm back!
Again.
If my comebacks to woohu were sequels, I think we would be at...lets see
Atman's Woohu: The reckoning
Anyway, I'm going to check my friends list and hopefully do something more worthy of mentioning. Oh, and drink. I still have some of that to do.
Rueben and I just saw Across the Universe. It was a great movie.
I don't know what more to say.
It presented realities.
I've always had a problem with reality. Not reality in the sense of knowing what's going on in the 'real' world, but my alternate realities. The ones in my head. The reality of what could happen. What might happen, what seemed to happen, what didn't happen, but seemed like it did.
I've had this problem since I was a small child.
I feel like I have so much to say, but I can't possibly scratch the surface here. I want _____ . I need _____ .
I'm good at playing by the rules, but that doesn't mean I like it.
I think I'm Marxist leftist...whatever that means nowadays.
I'm writing a speech on Mike Gravel and one of the articles I found while researching was called: "Mike Gravel, more Leftist than Marx"
How can I rely on words to explain myself when they simply can't? That's one of the things I've learned these past few years. I envy those who can use words to their advantage. I just fumble with them. I don't get them.
I got music and I turned my back on that. What do I have left? Two years of college, and three more to go so I can teach kids of average ability how to read the sentence: The cat sat on the mat.
Let's face it, without some time of national initiative on the part of the people, this country will never be more than substandard in anything but blowing things up.
Oh the things I could have done, you could have done, we could have done, if only we were given the chance. The opportunity. Limited opportunity isn't enough to make humanity what it should be.
Everything should be unlimited. Free healthcare, free education.
I don't care if we need to be like China and weed people out at sixth grade. Look who's on top. China.
Why would you let children who will never get it hinder the children who could change the country? Why do you bring down the best to make everyone average ? What good does that do?