Category: life

Commercialism

After dumping forty hours of my skilled-ass labor into America’s economy, I realized that my dignity comes at a higher price than a retail store has to offer. I’m flipping Office Depot the bird, as it were, and saying NO to shit like planograms and rewards cards. Quotas just aren’t my thing.

You’ve probably never seen a planogram – it’s just a diagram for where crap goes in the store, and they get updated based on the whim of some executive with ADD. I have never felt more useless in my life when I spent thirty minutes moving shredder lubricant from one side of the store to the other. It’s a glorified version of running in circles.

It also feels (morally) wrong to encourage people to spend money on stuff they don’t need. It feels brainwashing to go through powerpoint after powerpoint of training exercises so that I can complete quizlets to show I understand what Office Depot is about. Nothing disgusts me more than corporate blather. Sure, they have a purpose; they want their employees to feel alright about who they’re working for, they want to make sure everyone’s on the same page.

Besides, I just don’t work Sundays. I’m not sure where along the line I figured I would be okay with sacrificing that.

Impersonation

It’s gotten a bit strange how much of my time I spend evading direct questions, when talking to a lot of people during my day. It’s so much easier when you have complete control over what people know about you, but it’s become something of a test to see if people can cut through my bullshit. Most won’t blink twice at how vague I can be. Some of them are just being polite until they get to know me better, others really just aren’t listening in the first place.

But, it would be another facade if I were to say I did it solely as a way to test people. I just do it because I don’t like dishing out seemingly unsatisfactory answers. Being vague is a form of verbal procrastination – when I have the information I want to give, I’m focused and direct. Those that know me, know that – but I also use that trait to draw attention away from other subjects that I don’t want to undergo too much scrutiny.

The days I enjoy most, are those where I don’t have to be coat everything I say in a bouquet of flowers. The people I enjoy most, are those that I never need to do the dance with. The people I dislike most? Those that pretend, act, and lie.

It’s an important distinction. I don’t pretend or act. I’m pretty realistic about myself, and it’s because of that, that I feel the need to throw up so many deflections. Not that I’m afraid of anyone knowing me – to the contrary, I’m an open person. That’s why I’m writing this at all. No, no, it’s about perception and respect. I am a vain soul. It’s the strong, but unfortunate drive behind much of what I do. It wasn’t until I realized how much of my desires were mere vanity that I could sort through what’s worth pursuing.

Computer science is strong evidence to this. I am, at this point, mostly confident that my future is not in the field of technical work. I’m inexorably tied to the hardware I do so love, but only in so much that I am a gamer and a scrutinizer of the trends that result from this piece of machinery. To the point, though; my interest in Computer Science, I suspect, was a result of my desire to live up to the expectations which I enjoyed, and the chance to participate in something intellectually competitive on a large scale. In simpler terms: from youth, most of my family and friends assumed (on a reasonable basis) that I would venture into a realm of technology, because of my affinity for and desire towards the field. Combined with an easy chance to prove myself as truly skilled through keen programming skill, eventually completed by entering into what is generally accepted as an elite field (game design), I would have “mastered” a skill – not for bragging rights, but to enjoy the perception that would be drawn around me, serving also to feed my ego which I secretly enjoy (refer back to vanity).

It sounds so simple – we are so often told not to live by the expectations of others, but I don’t think most people who speak those words even know what it means to do such, or what it feels like. I certainly wouldn’t label myself as a servant to the hopes and dreams of my elders and peers, nor (I doubt and hope) would anyone else. It was not that I felt pressure from those desires, but instead a desire to receive those pressures and the rewards met by living under those.

It comes through in so many other ways. In recent months I have been running oh-so consistently. Yet for most of my years of running, I had yet to comprehend why I find enjoyment in it, and why this enjoyment comes and goes much less reliably, and sometimes more frequently, than a full moon. With time, comes plenty of chance to consider the evidence, and I do believe it is all for the same reason. I run to be seen. My favored route goes through collegetown – and I slow down before and after so that I can sprint, because I enjoy getting the weird looks from passers-by. It’s such a jackass thing to do, yet I do it because I am just that vain.

I hope I actually wake up for classes today. I want to start my Psychology class. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited about any course yet. Someone at the restaurant, a student at Cornell, was telling me about her Human Development major – it’s a combination of Sociology and Psychology (which also happens to be in the state school at Cornell – meaning wickedly cheap). We shall see.

A Question of Patience

Dormant is a particularly fitting word, today.

I’ve been sleeping in four-hour shifts for almost a week, and my body hates me for it. It’s the direct result of lacking a job, and it certainly gets old to explain the status quo to inquiring parties. It’s a little fun to pass it off as though I’m kicking back and biding my time before college waddles up like an obese woman, and takes more than its share of seats in my schedule. Really, I relish the chance to relax, because this summer hasn’t had a lot of that.

It’s partly due to my picky tendencies in regards to acceptable relaxation. That is to say, few activities actually relax me, though I might exude the aura of carelessness and personal freedom. While a series of flashing lights such as WoW might seem to be the pinnacle of ways to spend my time, it lacks that which I do truly enjoy: consistency. Summer is a terrible time for consistency, which makes this business all the more complex, which is where a job might arrive to rescue my limp form from deterioration.

In short, I really need a job. I hope these next few encounters develop well.

Mysterious Expectations

Prom was a lot more fun and a bit less special than I’d expected.

Dressing up and such is terribly fun, and it’s neat just to chill around with four hundred other people all in nice clothes, too. The excessive heat wasn’t quite as rockin’, and the musical selection was a little lame, but dancing for two hours was a lot more enjoyable than I would have expected. I pray nobody was actually paying attention to what I was doing, because I’m pretty confident that I looked retarded, but one must start somewhere in these things.

Watching people hump each other in psuedo-time to the music wasn’t quite a treat to the eyes, either, but after a while you just get used to looking at the pretty lights above.

Oh, to be young again…

Session Start (AIM – Steak220:Lemonadeyeti): Sat May 08 23:00:30 2004
[23:00:30] Lemonadeyeti: woo
[23:05:22] Steak220: woo
[23:05:25] Steak220: new RvB
[23:05:28] Steak220: if you care
[23:05:29] Steak220: at all
[23:05:33] Steak220: about the world
[23:05:37] Steak220: and all that is holy
[23:05:40] Steak220: and motherly
[23:05:51] Lemonadeyeti: why don’t you give me your shovel before you dig yourself any deeper
[23:06:07] Steak220: ….dig myself into what?
[23:06:29] Lemonadeyeti: a hole… that’s where most people dig themselves to
[23:06:37] Steak220: …
[23:06:41] Steak220: generally that’s a metaphor
[23:06:56] Lemonadeyeti: generally there’s a snake in my boot
[23:07:01] Lemonadeyeti: but
[23:07:03] Lemonadeyeti: not right now
[23:07:06] Steak220: …
[23:07:08] Steak220: wow
[23:07:11] Steak220: that made no sense
[23:07:14] Steak220: whatsoever
[23:07:15] Lemonadeyeti: somebody poisoned the waterhole!
[23:07:24] Steak220: you watched toy story, didn’t you?
[23:07:30] Lemonadeyeti: not recently
[23:07:34] Lemonadeyeti: just watched indy jones
[23:07:38] Steak220: oooh
[23:07:51] Lemonadeyeti: first one
[23:07:54] Lemonadeyeti: raiders of the lost arc
[23:08:02] Lemonadeyeti: ark
[23:08:03] Steak220: that one’s good
[23:08:09] Lemonadeyeti: not the best
[23:08:17] Steak220: i liked the 3rd one best
[23:08:20] Lemonadeyeti: it was the best
[23:08:23] Lemonadeyeti: we couldn’t find it though
[23:08:25] Steak220: tscha
[23:10:13] Lemonadeyeti: la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
[23:10:15] Lemonadeyeti: la la la
[23:10:17] Steak220: no.
[23:10:18] Lemonadeyeti: la la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
[23:10:22] Lemonadeyeti: la la laaaaa laaaaa laaaaaaa
[23:10:23] Steak220: NO.
[23:10:29] Lemonadeyeti: i love teh muzak
[23:10:35] Steak220: what muzak?
[23:10:36] Lemonadeyeti: of teh indi
[23:10:41] Lemonadeyeti: joens
[23:10:45] Steak220: oooh
[23:10:48] Steak220: yeah
[23:10:53] Steak220: john williams is nifty
[23:10:56] Lemonadeyeti: when we bought our old jeep in like 1992
[23:10:59] Lemonadeyeti: it came with a CD
[23:11:02] Lemonadeyeti: that had that music on it
[23:11:09] Lemonadeyeti: but it got all scratched up
[23:11:11] Lemonadeyeti: like 10 years ago
[23:11:13] Steak220: A CD WITH MUSIC ON IT?!?
[23:11:18] Steak220: STOP THE PRESSES.
[23:11:20] Steak220: ahem.
[23:11:24] Lemonadeyeti: CONSIDER THEM STOPPED
[23:11:28] Lemonadeyeti: …and restarted.

[23:48:35] Steak220: processor is inpervertable, though
[23:48:43] Lemonadeyeti: hmm
[23:48:46] Lemonadeyeti: i know i can do this…
[23:49:04] Lemonadeyeti: “want to start up my processor?”
[23:49:07] Lemonadeyeti: that’s not good
[23:49:09] Steak220: ……
[23:49:11] Steak220: no it’s not
[23:49:14] Lemonadeyeti: hm
[23:49:25] Lemonadeyeti: “i could process you all night long”
[23:49:28] Steak220: “wanna be my HSF?”
[23:49:56] Steak220: there must be a way!
[23:50:13] Lemonadeyeti: we may have found gold
[23:50:17] Steak220: indeed
[23:51:18] Steak220: dang
[23:51:23] Steak220: i can’t think of anything
[23:51:36] Lemonadeyeti: where there’s a will, there’s a way!
[23:51:49] Lemonadeyeti: which is why i need a friend named will
[23:51:53] Lemonadeyeti: just to mock
[23:52:14] Steak220: ah
[23:53:24] Steak220: zach says it’s inpervertable, too
[23:53:26] Lemonadeyeti: yeah
[23:53:27] Lemonadeyeti: heh
[23:53:29] Lemonadeyeti: i just asked him
[23:53:31] Steak220: ha
[23:54:01] Lemonadeyeti: well write it down and frame it
[23:54:11] Lemonadeyeti: a challenge before the whole human race
[23:54:20] Steak220: hmmm
[23:54:28] Steak220: how would you broadcast a question like that?
[23:54:50] Steak220: find a way to pervert the word “processor”?
[23:55:07] Steak220: extract a sexual situation using the word “processor”!
[23:55:12] Steak220: or maybe
[23:55:18] Lemonadeyeti: it’d have to be on the howard stern show or something
[23:55:23] Steak220: hahaha
[23:55:28] Steak220: they could do it
[23:55:33] Steak220: they’re about that low
[23:55:38] Lemonadeyeti: all the people with those mind-types listen to it
[23:55:44] Steak220: and call in
[23:55:50] Lemonadeyeti: yes
[23:59:44] Steak220: hmm
[23:59:48] Steak220: like nobody is online
[23:59:51] Steak220: this is depressing
[23:59:54] Lemonadeyeti: well
[23:59:59] Steak220: such a phenomal question to ask
[00:00:02] Steak220: so few to ask it to
[00:00:14] Lemonadeyeti: asdfjkl;
[00:00:16] Lemonadeyeti: wooo
[00:00:19] Lemonadeyeti: indeed
[00:00:27] Lemonadeyeti: if eels could talk..
[00:00:38] Steak220: …
[00:00:42] Steak220: we don’t live in the ocean.
[00:01:10] Lemonadeyeti: if they could talk, they’d tell people that they’d be fine without water, they just need wagons and people to pull them around in
[00:01:31] Steak220: that’s why eels don’t talk
[00:01:37] Steak220: because in the beginning
[00:01:38] Steak220: they did
[00:01:44] Steak220: and they controlled humans
[00:01:52] Steak220: and had them pull them around in wagons
[00:01:54] Lemonadeyeti: what’s weird is test tube babies
[00:01:56] Lemonadeyeti: don’t have navels
[00:01:57] Steak220: but there was a revolution
[00:01:58] Lemonadeyeti: isn’t that weird?
[00:02:06] Steak220: and the humans
[00:02:14] Steak220: removed all the eels voice boxes
[00:02:16] Steak220: and yes
[00:02:19] Steak220: that is weird
[00:02:38] Steak220: wow
[00:02:41] Steak220: that would be awful
[00:02:44] Steak220: going through life
[00:02:46] Steak220: without a navel
[00:02:53] Lemonadeyeti: people would look at you and be all disgusted
[00:02:58] Lemonadeyeti: and you’d never have children
[00:03:15] Steak220: yeah
[00:06:06] Steak220: man…no navel..
[00:06:12] Steak220: moving on
[00:06:14] Lemonadeyeti: ok
[00:06:43] Lemonadeyeti: this conversation sucks so much
[00:06:45] Lemonadeyeti: i’m going to sleep
[00:06:48] Steak220: me too
[00:06:51] Lemonadeyeti: woo
[00:06:55] Steak220: you too
[00:06:56] Steak220: …
[00:07:01] Steak220: something like that
[00:07:08] Lemonadeyeti: let’s not talk
[00:07:19] Lemonadeyeti: show your silence with dots
[00:07:20] Lemonadeyeti: …
[00:07:23] Steak220: …
[00:07:26] Lemonadeyeti: …
[00:07:30] Steak220: …….
[00:07:36] Lemonadeyeti: ………
[00:07:39] Steak220: .
[00:07:43] Lemonadeyeti: …?
[00:08:00] Steak220: … !!
[00:08:32] Lemonadeyeti: …
[00:08:36] *** Lemonadeyeti signed off at Sun May 09 00:08:36 2004.

Suite

Tuxedo shopping is more than a little fun. If you haven’t tried it, I’d strongly reccommend it. John, the short guy that outfitted the three of us (Paul, Ben) was hilarious.

“You look good, my friend, you look good!” x50
“You got it, man(g), you got it.” x25

I’m looking forward to prom, even if a date doesn’t present itself.

Fading

Music has always held a strange place in my head. You know that I have strange listening habits – a look at my last.fm tells you that I’ve listened to the same ten songs almost ten-thousand times. Some of them are short, some of them aren’t. I listen to one song on repeat until it no longer matches my mood. On other days, whatever I’m listening to carves my mood.

This is one of those days. I woke up late again, after not doing a pile of homework that was due, I sat in the shower and stared at the wall for thirty minutes before fumbling my way back downstairs and laying on my bed for four hours. There’s a sense of hopelessness that takes over, and the word ‘worthless’ kept running through my head all day. I know it’s not true, but a quick, objective examination of my life over the past year doesn’t warm my soul too much. I want a lot of things taken care of, for me. I want to be done with school, to forget it and move on. I want a job, truly and earnestly – I want to be doing something productive and I want to be compensated for it. I don’t enjoy generalizing my accomplishments in my head, repeating past victories in my head to console a bruised ego.

But that’s what the word ‘worthless’ is about. High school has been, on the whole, about losing my ego. That’s a good thing. Yet alongside that, I’ve stopped expecting anything of myself, because I have no pride to defend. I fantasize about having a job that I’ll enjoy in five (mayhaps seven) years, about some day being in good shape physically, mentally, and emotionally. I yearn for independance, the ability to stand on my own two feet. Some mock the idea of humans being independant, for we’re dependant creatures, but I think you (yes, you) know what I mean.

My one comfort in this is that I can look at past versions of my self (with a space) and know that I’m building up, not down. I might be lazy, unreliable, and apathetic, but I know I’ve grown, somewhere in there. I’m just not doing that growth any justice. It deserves better than this.

bah

Christine Pardo: You ever poop a poop that wider than it is long?
Kinohki Tasaki: yup
salandarin: hmmm
salandarin: nope
Randy: Yeah, and I named it Tim.
Christine Pardo: lol
Christine Pardo: Randy, you’re awful
Christine Pardo: You’re grounded
salandarin: ….
salandarin: D:
Christine Pardo: For pickin on Tim
Randy: I wasn’t picking on him.
Randy: :/
Randy: I don’t play with my poo.

Translucent

(edit: a disclaimer – I will be poking with the template, but because Blogger’s tossed in a lot of new features, I’ll be starting from their template and going on. things might look terribly cookie-cutter or just terrible, so don’t whine at me)

I haven’t posted for several months. Where to start?

A redesign is high on the mind-priority, you might say. I find the current incarnation to be increasingly stale, like crackers with too many years behind them, and perhaps too many ahead of them. The long delays haven’t been the product of any lack of desire or motivation – really, I don’t know why I haven’t come back here in so long. I love my blog, I love the little microcosm I created on this series of tubes. Why I would ever consider giving it up, I cannot know. I only know that this isn’t an isolated problem.

Why haven’t I been running in two months? Why did I skip school for eight full days (thirteen for poor first period Math)? Why am I at home now? Why is my life so hard to manage when there is so very little to be managed?

No, no, I’m not in a state of distress, I’m just in a void, of sorts. I’m displeased knowing that a year from now, I’ll probably be sitting in this same chair, in the same place of this blasted yellow box called my bedroom. I’m going to TC3 (though I have yet to fill out the application), I don’t know what I’ll study, I don’t know where I’ll work in the mean-time (though I do know where I’ll be living – for some kind of fee, I’ll be remaining at home, as it’s the best option, even if it’s closer in proximity to my parents than I would prefer). I’m taking my driver’s test in twenty-two days. Life moves, but it moves like a sloth. I’m impatient for graduation to come, and yet I know that there are other features of this life that are passing by, that I’m missing.

SK has claimed 1825 hours, but I’m on the brink of quitting. No, I’m not addicted (nor was I ever).

Some day, I think I might try and build a strong reputation. I dislike having none – I don’t mind implications of stupidity among friends and acquaintences, I know they’re nothing more than a jest, but my insecurities lead such comments to strike more deeply at home than they might appear.

I don’t think I’ll make a post this insightful for a while. It feels wrong, and probably is. I’ll try and keep up with posting. No promises, though (not that anyone would take my word on such a thing).

Hmmm.

You have played 1132 hour(s) so far.

1132 hours / 26 weeks (approx. age of character) = 43.5385 hours per week
43.5385 hours / 7 days = 6.2198 hours per day.

Anyways. Fragmented post today.

After I made the previous post, I started feeling the pain. I got this silly idea to stop taking the massive ibuprofen they gave me (600 freaking mg) because it was making me sleep, hoo was that dumb. Had I kept taking it, I’m sure I woulda been fine. The day I came to school on my last few Vicodin was exceedingly fun, albeit bloody. The holes have sealed themselves up, which is kind of a weird feeling.

What was weirdest, though, was people telling me (and I got this from at least half a dozen people) that I was abnormally hilarious while on the Vicodin.

I don’t feel like making a generic stuff-I-got-for-Christmas list because my Christmas SUCKED BALLS.

New years wasn’t bad, I went around to a few houses and had awkward small talk with old people, and beat half of Gears of War at Daniel’s house. I had fully intended to go to J-man Schultz’s shindig, but totally forgot about it. For the lose.

Robotics starts today, meaning I have to somehow squeeze in sleep, school, robotics, and SK. For the curious, the game we’re designing the robot for can be seen here. Looks like it’s gonna be an interesting season.

My brothers moved back into my house, for a minimum of 3 weeks.

More comprehensive and interest posts to come later.

Valium + Vicodin

This surgery could almost be defined as fun.

Not even joking.

I haven’t felt any pain at all.

This stuff basically makes me grin CONSTANTLY, bashed my motor skills (I seriously can’t walk around the house without gripping something solid), and is actually making me hallucinate. Playing SK is bizarre – I keep reading things that aren’t even remotely there, and I start typing responses, only to realize halfway through that a) i haven’t actually been typing anything, but actually pressing the “=” key, and that b) nothing i’m look at it is even remotely related to what I, for whatever reason, thought was happening.

Surgery was absolutely painless. Today’s been 100% awesome, except for drooling blood all over my pillow and some blankets.

Oral Surgery

No, that’s not me being dirty, I’m getting my wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow morning. I totally forgot about it until today. The suck.

So, I’m out for two days while I drool blood and saliva uncontrollably. Oh happy day.

I might come to regret slapping Paul all those times after he got his out. 🙁

Uncertainty

Certainty is a rare and valuable thing. How often are you positive about anything? Everything comes with its share of doubts and potential pitfalls. Those, I don’t particularly mind. It’s only when those potential pitfalls are things I can fix, that I can change, that I can prevent. It’s not out of self-loathing or self-doubt that I say this, but merely because I acknowledge that I am imperfect and capable of screwing things up, especially when I’ve recognized my previous patterns for screwing up and I’m afraid of making the same mistake yet again.

This is something that’s only truly become apparant to me in the past few months, as I begin to understand the value of experience. This new-found respect for experience is not out of a sudden wealth of it in myself, but of the realization of what little I do have, and what there is in others. Last Sunday was a pretty interesting experience (lol) in this regard.

A fellow pastor from across the state came and preached and did some official duty related to my church’s recent election of elders (essentially the governmental body of the church – irrelevant to the story at hand). In our typical fashion, we (my parents, myself, and said pastor) went out to lunch and had a fairly nice time chatting and such. Somewhere along the conversation my dad started explaining the events that stopped us from moving to Tempe, Arizona in the summer of 1997.

A lot of the details I shouldn’t, and won’t share, because it’s a pretty personal story. What I can say, though, is that it’s weird to stumble across a whole new realm of respect for your own parents. Some of you may, or may not, know that once upon a time I was destined to move to Arizona, where my dad was going to start a new church. He had the financial support, the manpower, and we were just about a month or two away from moving. Our destination, to us, was quite certain, but everything fell through. In essence, they were backstabbed by their own church and fellow (quoteunquote) Christians, in a pretty clear-cut way (meaning, this isn’t just the bias of the son talking). I really wish I could describe it all, but perhaps another day.

Anyways. I had a whole varied amount of conclusions about everything after sitting and watching my dad almost drop to tears. The first was, as originally mentioned, about respecting experience. I came to realize that my parents had experiences that strongly affect how they act – for me to be as critical as I often have was, in retrospect, quite unjust, when taking into account where they’re coming from. I’m known to be especially critical of my mom. Some of it’s justified. Now, I realize, some of it’s not, and I should have questioned myself a little more harshly when others told me it wasn’t.

The second was one of the value of bad experiences. At the time, there was little good behind the emotional, financial, and practically physical abandonment my parents faced, and yet, there is much good that has been wrought of that ill. I wouldn’t live in Ithaca, for starters, and I don’t particularly enjoy the thought of not having the friends and experiences that I do now.

And the third, of course, was of certainty. As much as I’d love to be certain about something, anything, there’s nothing around me or within me that I can trust to provide certainty. Thus, I just have to suck it up and trust God that it will come out for the best, regardless of how I want to screw it up. And maybe try to minimize my capability of doing just that in the mean-time.

*hums softly*

I feel really, really good. This break has been wonderful, for myriad reasons. Some of which I will teasingly not mention.

Meaningful

Despite not being in a particularly thankful mood, I realize the importance of trying anyways. As such, I will provide you with the now-rare bulleted list.

  • God ftw, however screwed up I may be
  • family ftw, however screwed up it may be
  • friends ftw, however screwed up they may be
  • this mp3 player. yes, this is fourth on the list. that’s how much I use it.
  • in tandem with the mp3 player, running. in particular, I’m thankful for the two guys I ran past thirty minutes ago, while going from Ben’s house to mine. the quizzical expressions they give me as they see a guy in shorts and a puffy vest running at 3 AM make it all worthwhile.
  • the internet. in particular, YTMND, Zefrank, EGM, Gamespot, Bash, SK, Slashdot, Fark, Google, and halo.bungie.org.
  • science.

It’s a little short, but like I said, I’m not particularly in the mood.

Things are good. I’m content.

About That Thing…

It’s exceedingly bizarre how transient one’s outlook on his future can be. For two years I’ve more or less told myself I’m going to TC3 and then transferring somewhere, heavily based under the assumption that my parents wouldn’t be paying for anything. Apparantly this isn’t really the case, and I don’t know why. My mom just walked in and proposed that I go to Houghton for a year or two and then take IC up on that whole free tuition business for another 2 years. For the unaware, Houghton’s a mostly liberal arts school (with some focus on music), somewhere in the regions of the state. I have been, in the past, heavily opposed to going to Houghton because it’s a Christian college (there’s a certain breed of “Christian” that places like Houghton attract that I find intolerable, even if they’re just a small portion of the populace). But, when mom suggested it tonight, I realized I don’t actually care that much. It’d be nice to just have a definitive plan for the future, or something.

My only worry is that I, uh, have absolutely no applications or recommendations or anything of that sort. Exciting times. We’ll see how this goes.

Psychoanalyzation

This year’s return in candy was, dare I say, pathetic. I’m left with what could barely be called handfuls of candy, disregarding the large piles left from what we didn’t hand out. The process of gathering the candy amounted to less fun than desired, as well. Listening to the melodramatic “situations” in other people’s lives isn’t what I was particularly hoping for in my Halloween night. Returning home was satisfying, though, sitting in the attic and sorting through my pitiful collection of candy, watching the remaining half of the Sixth Sense, which for some reason I saw at the ripe old age of 11, which, in retrospect, might have been a little too young.

Edit: I failed to mention, my costume was exceedingly brilliant. I was, as some of you know, Dr. Schrödinger, the physicist who developed the Schrödinger’s cat thought experiment. I sort of (not really) attempted to look like a scientist and carried a box labeled “cat”, but absolutely no one understood it. No one.

Returning to the melodrama I spoke of; I think people like to psychoanalyze and gossip about other people’s lives because their own lives are otherwise too boring and generic. Making a big deal over things that absolutely don’t matter is an excuse to not think about that which actually matters. A further possibility is that people just want something to talk about all the time, another concept that I fail to find myself comprehending. Imagine the horror of having nothing to say (or, ideally, just refraining from saying anything) (also, note the sarcasm of this sentence).

It reminds me a bit of the social commentary within the sixth season of the Sopranos. One of the things they suggested is that we, as a people, are bored, and participate in vaguely stupid activities to cure this. The case they cited would be carnival rides, like the generic spinning teacup thingo (we’ve all seen and/or ridden it, kind of like your mom). The actual event of getting in a metal hemisphere decorated like a cup and spinning around for fifty seconds isn’t fun, but the concept of being thrown around by something more powerful than you, that you have no control over, is. More precisely, the possibility of danger, such as the safeties failing, is what makes it fun. I’m not sure I entirely agree, but it is at least somewhat accurate, in that we’re seeking to inject something more interesting than ourselves into our lives, as if what we have isn’t enough.

I’m not suggesting we should be self-reliant and isolated. It merely seems to me that people are too reliant on artificial thrills. This is a broad statement – it stretches from alcoholism to thrill-seeking to…a whole lot of other things. Perhaps I’m guilty of this as well, but I don’t really know. Refer to the title of this post for my justification to speak so arrogantly on the matter.

Oh, in other news, I ran the mile in 6:11 (lol, that’s my address number), which I’m extremely confident I can do better on (I’m thinking like 5:50).

I also hit 39 in Wow (shut up, 60s), and have been positively mopping up in PvP. Then again, it’s not a PvP server (and the server as a whole suxxors), but has been fun regardless.

As for SK, my enthusiasm has slowed down a bit as of late. You have played 766 hour(s) so far.

EDIT: lolz

True Fixation

The meaning of the phrase “If it aint broke, don’t fix it.” is a rule by which I live. Thus, generally the only way things improve in my immediate surroundings is if they become broken, forcing my attention upon them and enhancing the otherwise beaurocratic process of improvement. This includes issues of character, as well, which came up today when my parents issued the rather simple challenge of “start doing work or we will forcibly remove every piece of electronics from your room whether you bought them or not”. Naturally, being the sauve beast that I am, pretended not to care, but after thinking about it, I really would have no reason to stay up to all hours, which is a concept I am roughly unfamiliar with. More poignant, however, was the notation that Christopher tried exactly what I’ve been thinking. You know, just zipping off to a part-time job and finding an apartment, living out in that nifty old real world we hear about so often. Turns out that didn’t come out too well for him, although admittedly, he was in a significantly different set of circumstances. Regardless, I believe the value of the dollar is one I’ve been ignoring, in that there are certain realities of life that one must face. An important one being that money is a necessity regardless of who I think I am.

Interesting discussion on epistomology at church today. Philosophy in general has captured my interest, as my guidance counselor noted a few days ago, when we last met. Thinking about how we think and examining how to truly “know” is a fascinating process, although I really have no idea what kind of employment such ventures might offer. Another item to the list of possibilities I have before me.

Supply is in Demand

Increasingly consumed by the Internet, I find myself tracking daily fads and phenomonon instead of going to school. SK, YTMND, and Zefrank are the name of the game, with some occasional lawn mowing, running, and attic improvements.

Instead of going to school like every other decent human being, I slept in and had lunch with Karel today, after which I sat on my butt, mowed lawns, left the lawn mower in the middle of the garage, and let dad run over it. Apologies to the woman whose lawn is quite literally half-mowed, but in rock-paper-scissors, a one-ton vehicle wins over a fifty pound motor with wheels. On the bright side, Karel and I installed a new receiver in the attic, resulting in a fairly wonderful improvement in the quality and quantity of sound available, as well as vastly improving the video arrangement. The receiver was courtesy of Greg, who was also generous enough to provide an AM/FM tuner, a VHS player (which is an incredible improvement over the RF Modulator I’d been using), three new signs, and yet more. I hope things go well for you in DC.

I’ve got funds appropriated for the upcoming release of the Wii. This includes multiple controllers, multiple games, and a TV. This will probably be the last recreational purchase I make (with the possible exception of a laptop) before shoving myself into the real world, where things like food and cars will try and take priority. It is ominous to think in such a way, but it is the harsh reality of life that I cannot and will not live in my parent’s basement for any longer than financially necessary. The idea of leaving Ithaca has become far more sensible on multiple levels. It will be a significant amount of time before this vision reaches fruition; indeed, the time required to purchase a car and the means to support said car and myself as well as finish off this silly high school business, is considerable.

I would so rather be running right now, but tonight’s my bi-monthly laundry gauntlet. Current attire is jeans, but who knows, I may get antsy enough and run anyways.

I Overslept, Again

Had a great conversation with my guidance counselor today. He gets a little too philosophical sometimes, but he put my inclination to drop Precalc in a very nice light. As I’d told him, it’s not a problem with the teacher or the class, it’s that it’s an inconvenience that I’m not sure I want right now. He, instead, placed as a challenge to improve myself for once.

I’ve been running and walking constantly. I’ve got a neat little blister on my foot from the day I ran eight (maybe seven) miles. Monday night, I ran four, stayed up all night playing SK and doing my econ paper, left home at 7:45, made it to school at 8:01 (it’s a pain, running with a backpack on. i have to jam my left arm behind the strap to keep the backpack from bouncing too much, even with the straps fully tightened and whatnot), and then layed on the bench in the Quad and watched myself steam for twenty minutes. It was, to say the least, a little trippy, watching the leaves sway behind a layer of my own steam, as I continued to listen to this great remix artist I found recently. Then, I ran home (my heart was going to explode about halfway up Gun Hill), and promptly thrust myself into a gigantic controversy in SK.

In any case, I’ve got to get some work done on a website I’m helping with. I’ve put it off too long.

Yogurt Burst Cheerios

Life is weird.

Norly.

I’ve been seriously considering moving out of the house. To do this, of course, I need (in order of importance) a driver’s license, and a job. My sources tell me a one-bedroom apartment would set me back 500 a month, in Ithaca. That’s just not doing it for me. The solution?

Who needs Ithaca?

Run with my thoughts here. Even with three full periods less than last year, school sucks. I hate it just as much as I did last year. Not even hate, really. I enjoy certain portions, I suppose, but I keep wanting it to be college, and it’s not. I hate being hounded by teachers because they don’t like the way I do things. Things, as in, not come to school or do homework. In my eyes, homework is a responsibility to yourself, not the teacher. If I don’t want to do right by my education, for the love of all that is good and holy, let me! I don’t care what you want, I learn on my own terms.

In the end, I just want to be able to do what I want and not constantly take crap for it. Moving out seems like a really big step towards that.

Living on my own sets some precedent for college. I’ve resigned myself (a poor phrasing, in some respects) to going to TC3, which will make for an interesting financial situation, depending on what job I would get. Not sure what I would do, really, but surely there’s a half-way decent job from 2:30 – whatever at night.

I don’t care.

I need out of this house.

Edit: You have played 597 hour(s) so far.