(no subject)
Life kind of sucked this week, so in an effort to blow off some steam I've decided to rant about a few things that have been on my mind. Things I don't like...
This week:
This. Week. SUCKED! First there was Valentine's day. No, I wasn't depressed about being single on Valentine's day. Instead, I had my car to be sad about. As I was driving home from work my brakes went out. Yep, kind of a scary situation to be in when you're going 50 miles per hour. I thought at first that I was just low on brake fluid, so I went to the store and picked up a bottle. I got home, filled up the brake fluid, and pumped on the brakes to see if they worked again. They worked, but I heard a loud hissing sound when I pumped the brakes. Sure enough, the brake line was busted, and hitting the bakes was causing brake fluid to spray out by the driver's side front tire. My car was useless. My dad was nice enough to borrow my his jeep until I get my car fixed, but I'm still stressing about how much its going to cost. I know it won't bee too expensive because I'm taking it to a mechanic friend of mine, so at least it won't cost me as much if I took it to a regular auto shop.
Another thing that sucked about this week was sleeping. Actually, it was more like the lack of sleep. For the last 2 weeks I've only been able to sleep for a few hours at a time. It sucks balls. I sleep for 4 hours, then wake up feeling groggy and still tired, but for some reason I can't fall back asleep. I finally broke down and bought some sleeping pills. They worked like a charm and knocked me out cold, and I stayed asleep too. There was still one day when I lost sleep even with the pills. I had been asleep for 3 hours when my dad decided to wake me up at 8am to ask me about my car. It was nice that he offered to let me use his jeep, but he knows that I'm usually asleep at 8am, so why not just wait until he knows I'm going to be awake. Normally I wouldn't care, but for some reason I couldn't get back to sleep even with the sleeping pills. I got to go into work with only 3 hours of sleep under my belt. Always a fun time.
Another thing that sucked about this week was the dreams that I've been having lately. They've been those bittersweet ex-girlfriend dreams. Apparently my subconscious was upset about being single on Valentine's day, so it decided to torment me with sickeningly happy and love filled dreams. Each dream has has a different ex-girlfriend. It's usually one of my major ex-girlfriends, but one of the dreams was about a girl from Portland that I've always had a little crush on. When I say "major" I mean the really long term relationships. That's pretty much just Courtney and Kari, though a few other girlfriends have shown up. Thank god Dez hasn't been involved in any of them. Any dream with Dez in it automatically becomes a nightmare though, so they wouldn't fit in with these nice dreams. My mind has decided to torment me with niceness for a change. Each of these dreams follows a similar pattern. In these dreams the girl and I are still dating, or we've recently gotten back together, and we're being all cute and mushy and in love. Bleh! They're always really nice dreams, don't get me wrong, but I still say my subconscious is trying to torment me. I say this because these are the type of dreams that really suck to wake up from. If I dream about being a superhero and punching a tornado in the face it sucks to wake up then too, but in a different way. At least with the superhero dream I still feel like I had a really fun dream when I wake up. Waking up from these girlfriend dreams just sucks. I wake up feeling all good inside for the first few seconds. Then as my mind slowly starts to go into awake mode I realize that it was all a dream, and all those nice, warm fuzzy emotions weren't real at all. I guess the real reason why the girlfriend dreams are so much more painful than the superhero dreams is pretty simple. Being a superhero and punching a tornado in the face is impossible in real life, so there's really no point in dwelling on it. The best you can do is just hope to have another awesome dream the next night. Being in a happy, loving relationship on the other hand is completely possible and realistic. I think that's what makes them easier to dwell on. Not only do the dreams seem real because they're plausible situations, but the emotions you feel during them feel more genuine too. It all feels so complicated and difficult to explain. Best way I can think of to describe the feeling when I wake up is like going through a mini break-up. A brief feeling of deep depression that I can at least get over quicker because I realize it was just a dream, and not real at all. Actually no, scratch that last metaphor because I just thought of a better one. Having one of these dreams is like being presented with a giant cake. It's big and covered in pretty colored frosting, and it looks so tasty that you want to throw away your fork and dive in face first. Only when you lean over to take that first big bite a giant angry fist jumps out of the cake and bonks you square on the nose...
Back injury:
Another terrible thing that happened to me this week was a random back injury. I say it was a random injury because I was just standing around doing nothing at all when it happened. Really, just standing there. Not bending over to tie my shoe, not lifting anything heavy, not twisting my spine in some sort of bizzaro world way that you could probably only see these days at a run down travelling freak show in the worst part of Russia. Just standing there. It was as though some douche from an alternate universe came to our dimension, zapped me in the middle of my back with a taser, and then popped back to his own dimension before I had time to figure out what had just happened to me as I lay on my floor in horrible pain. It just had to happen right before I was supposed to leave for work of course. Working a 10 hour shift when you feel the top half of your body is literally about to fall off from the lower half is always a fun way to spend the day. I spent my shift trying very hard not to spine unless absolutely necessary. Luckily I had the foresight to grab a bottle of Ibuprofen before I left the hose, so at least I could pop pain pill like they were skittles to dull the pain a bit. After my 10 hours of hell I did start to feel a bit better, and the combination of pain pills and sleeping pills managed to knock me out soon after I got home. The next morning I did feel better even without painkiller, so at least I know it wasn't a serious back injury. I'd really hate to have to try and explain that to a doctor. They'd probably want to put me in some sort of medical journal for freaks as "the guy who destroyed his back by just standing around." I have been exercising frequently the last few weeks, so my best guess is that I either over did it with one of my exercises, or I just haven't been stretching enough. Either way it's put a real damper on my exercise routine for the last 2 days. This also bummed me out a bit because I was just starting to feel like I was getting some real results in the strength and stamina department. Oh well, another day or so and I'm sure I'll be feeling fine again and ready to get back to getting back into shape before my move back to Portland. I have this weird goal in my head that I want to be in better shape than my best buddy Zach before I get back to Portland because... well, just because... I guess I don't really have a legitimate reason, it's just something I want to to. I'm not going to rub it in his face, and it's not like I'm trying to impress him, but it's a goal non-the-less, and in a weird way it has helped motivate me to exercise, so I'm sticking with it as a goal. Oh, and just in case Sarah Hoyt is reading this, please don't tell Zach about my secret goal to get in better shape than him. I have this irrational paranoia that if he finds out the whole thing will turn into a competition of sorts and I'll lose this motivation. I realize Zach could just as easily read my livejournal and find out, but I don't see that as a likely possibility. I only mention you Sarah because I know you still occasionally update you're livejournal, so you might stumble across this entry of mine :)
The final thing that has been pissing me of this week is my job. There are a couple things about my job that have bothered me this week, but the one I'd like to vent about now is a specific coworker that has been bothering me for a long while. This week he has just been particularly unbearable. Before I get into what he's been doing this week that bothers me, I think I should talk a little about why I dislike him in general. To put it simply, he's the most disgusting human being I've ever met. It's not like he doesn't shower, or has hideous acne. Nothing like that. He just has these little bad habits that a lot of people have, but he seems to take them to an extreme level that makes them completely horrendous to witness. First, chews with his mouth open. This normally wouldn't bother me that much, even though it is a pet peeve of mine. This guy though, it's just disgusting to be around him when he eats. It's like the entire concept of keeping his mouth closed while he chews is completely lost on him. It's what I imagine it would be like to watch someone without a nose eat. At least they'd have the excuse of needing to chew with their mouth open because otherwise they couldn't breathe. This guy though, every bite is like an extravaganza of loud chewing, smacking, and comping noises. I can only compare it to the sound pigs make while eating in old cartoons(minus the pig snorts). It's disgusting enough to watch, but even if I'm sitting at the opposite end of the break room I can still hear the noises clear as day. It's a big break room too, probably close to 50 feet long. Not only that, but I can often hear him eating when I start walking down the long hallway towards the break room. That easily makes him 100 feet away. You know someone is a noisy eater if you can hear them chomping from 100 feet away. Not only that, but he's a slurper too. God help me if he's eating soup or anything that can be slurped up into his mouth. One day he brought spaghetti for his lunch, and the combination of loud slurping and munching was too much for me to bear. I spent the next 20 minutes of my 30 minute break hanging out on the opposite side of the building because it was too cold to spend that much time outside, and the opposite end of the building was the only other place I knew I'd be safe from the noise. Another thing I should point out is that his open-mouth chewing is so bad that he has to actually tilt his head back while he eats. You'd think the inconvienience of having to stare at the celein while you eat, so that your food doesn't fall out of your mouth, would be enough to convince anyone to just close their mouth while they chew. Not him though. He's also a nose picker. This one doesn't bother me as a whole in that it's not a pet peeve of mine. I understand that sometimes a nose just needs to be picked for whatever reason. The reason it gets to me when he does it though is because he works about 15 feet away from me, and is in my direct line of sight. I'll be sitting there filling out paperwork, or examining circuit boards, when I suddenly look up and see him digging for green gold. If it were a quick dig I wouldn't care, but when this guy picks his nose he really goes all out. When I first started noticing how long he spends picking his nose I decided it might be funny to time him just for a laugh. So one day when I was lucky enough to catch him starting a fresh dig session I grabbed one of the timers I use for cooking circuit board epoxy and hit start. I was genuinely amazed when he stopped at 9 minutes and 22 seconds. Ever since then it seems I have the unfortunate luck of glancing upwards just as he's starting to pick, and once I notice it I can't seem to un-notice it no matter how hard I try. He's been doing it a lot more frequently this last week too, which leads me to the next thing I dislike about him and also makes him a disgusting human being. He's clearly been very ill throughout the entire week, and it's most definitely some form of strep or bronchitis based on how bad his cough sounds. I can sympathize a little for the poor guy struggling to get through work when he should be at home, resting in bed. My sympathies run dry however as soon as he starts hacking up huge globs of disgusting phlegm and spiting them into the garbage can every 2 minutes. On top of that he coughs all over everything around him, and never covers his mouth. Me being extremely sick very soon feels almost inevitable now after spending the whole week working near him. That's was pisses me off the most about him recently. He should be at home if he's this sick, and I know that he could be at home if he wanted to because just last week he was bragging about how many PTO/Sick days he has saved up. The reason he doesn't stay home is because he just doesn't want to. He's one of those weird fucking people who seem to actually have to life outside of work. He'll work 7 days a week if he can. I know this because from around the end of last October up until about mid January my boss had been asking everyone to work overtime every week, and sure enough he was there 7 days a week every week. He actually complained to the higher-ups when they told us that we weren't allowed to work any more overtime for a while because February was going to be a slow month for the company. So here's this guy, who is not only being extra gross because he's sick, but he's also exposing me to his sickness for 10 hours a day. Oh, and I know that this doesn't really have anything to do with him being a gross person, but his name just happens to be Dung. Yep, his first name is another word for shit. His full name is Dung Tran. He's an asian guy, and I'm pretty sure his first name doesn't have the same meaning in his home country. It's still an interesting coincidence that someone I find so gross would just happen to be named Dung.
Ok, so that about does it for this week I guess. Now I'm just going to rant and complain about random things as they pop into my brain.
Facebook:
I've started to develop a loathing of facebook. I hate how it advertises itself as social networking, but really it's just another way for people who already know each other to spew out random tidbits of stupid. There are only 4 or 5 friends of mine on facebook whom I actually give a damn about hearing what they have to say about anything. The rest is mostly jerk-offs I went to high school with who either feel the need to advertise every mundane detail of their daily lives, or force their political ideals on anyone who is willing to argue with them via facebook comments. I think the thing the I dislike the most about facebook is the vact that it claims to be social networking, but in fact it seems to be anything but social. Everyone on the site seems to have become so concerned with concealing their identity that it's impossible to really be social with anyone you don't already know on a personal level. I'm not exempt from this. My facebook profile is so private that you can't even find it if you're not already my friend. This is because of my psycho ex Dez, who also took up the hobby of stalking me after I broke up with her. There was a period of a few months where I would change my relationship status to single, and then she'd somehow get into my account and change it back to saying I was dating her. Stupid fucking shit. Eventually I had to change my profile name to a fake name, change my profile picture to something other than a picture of myself, and change all my emails and passwords. It really sucks, but at the same time it would be pointless not to have everything private on my profile. It's not like how myspace was where you could browse anyone's profile, and look for people that you actually had things in common with, and then try to make friends with them. It's seems like the point of sites like facebook should be to not only keep in touch with people you already know, but also try to meet cool new people to be friends with. Otherwise, what's the point of filling out all that "about me" stuff and listing things that you like. I have a feeling that when I get back to Portland I'm not going to be using facebook much anymore because I'll be close to the people I use facebook to talk to now because they're so far away. Maybe someday I'll be able to unblock my profile and actually try to talk to new people and make new friends, but until then facebook feels like a waste of my time. Good only for seeing if anything is new with 4 or 5 people I care about, and occasionally spurting out my own random event from my life, or short drunken ramble.
My Room:
This room is so oppressive lately. It seems no matter how hard I try it never manages to stay clean. It's not like I've got a shit load of empty pop cans and rotting food lying around. I'm not that much of a slob. My main problem is laundry. I'm so lazy when it comes to laundry. Organizing it, cleaning it, folding it, putting it away. Bleh, somehow it's always felt like a waste of my time. If my room was a country I would be the king, and laundry would represent my loyal subjects. That would mean that my kingdom was currently in the middle of an outbreak of black plague with bodies littered all over the streets(my floor), and my closet would be one giant mass grave for dead peasants. I need to be a better ruler, and take more time to clean up after myself, even if it does just mean picking my dirty laundry up off the floor. It seems that every time I actually manage to work up the strength to do laundry my room always looks so much nicer afterwards. Over time though the black plague slowly returns, and bodies start dropping until eventually I have yet another giant pile of dead shirts, pants, socks, and underwear inhabiting my closet. It's just clothes, so I guess I don't really consider it to be slob-like if I don't pick up my clothes. It's not like every pair of boxers has a giant shit stain on them, or every sock smells like decaying foot skin and sweat. It's just untidy, and unpleasant to look at. Like a car that's only kind of dirty. It's not like you've been driving through mud and dirt, but it would still look nice and shiny if you just took the time to wash it.
Well, I think that's enough griping for one entry. I'm feeling surprisingly exhausted considering all I've been doing is typing. I've still got more I want to bitch and rant about, so maybe I'll write more later. I think this is enough for right now though.
Goodnight.
This week:
This. Week. SUCKED! First there was Valentine's day. No, I wasn't depressed about being single on Valentine's day. Instead, I had my car to be sad about. As I was driving home from work my brakes went out. Yep, kind of a scary situation to be in when you're going 50 miles per hour. I thought at first that I was just low on brake fluid, so I went to the store and picked up a bottle. I got home, filled up the brake fluid, and pumped on the brakes to see if they worked again. They worked, but I heard a loud hissing sound when I pumped the brakes. Sure enough, the brake line was busted, and hitting the bakes was causing brake fluid to spray out by the driver's side front tire. My car was useless. My dad was nice enough to borrow my his jeep until I get my car fixed, but I'm still stressing about how much its going to cost. I know it won't bee too expensive because I'm taking it to a mechanic friend of mine, so at least it won't cost me as much if I took it to a regular auto shop.
Another thing that sucked about this week was sleeping. Actually, it was more like the lack of sleep. For the last 2 weeks I've only been able to sleep for a few hours at a time. It sucks balls. I sleep for 4 hours, then wake up feeling groggy and still tired, but for some reason I can't fall back asleep. I finally broke down and bought some sleeping pills. They worked like a charm and knocked me out cold, and I stayed asleep too. There was still one day when I lost sleep even with the pills. I had been asleep for 3 hours when my dad decided to wake me up at 8am to ask me about my car. It was nice that he offered to let me use his jeep, but he knows that I'm usually asleep at 8am, so why not just wait until he knows I'm going to be awake. Normally I wouldn't care, but for some reason I couldn't get back to sleep even with the sleeping pills. I got to go into work with only 3 hours of sleep under my belt. Always a fun time.
Another thing that sucked about this week was the dreams that I've been having lately. They've been those bittersweet ex-girlfriend dreams. Apparently my subconscious was upset about being single on Valentine's day, so it decided to torment me with sickeningly happy and love filled dreams. Each dream has has a different ex-girlfriend. It's usually one of my major ex-girlfriends, but one of the dreams was about a girl from Portland that I've always had a little crush on. When I say "major" I mean the really long term relationships. That's pretty much just Courtney and Kari, though a few other girlfriends have shown up. Thank god Dez hasn't been involved in any of them. Any dream with Dez in it automatically becomes a nightmare though, so they wouldn't fit in with these nice dreams. My mind has decided to torment me with niceness for a change. Each of these dreams follows a similar pattern. In these dreams the girl and I are still dating, or we've recently gotten back together, and we're being all cute and mushy and in love. Bleh! They're always really nice dreams, don't get me wrong, but I still say my subconscious is trying to torment me. I say this because these are the type of dreams that really suck to wake up from. If I dream about being a superhero and punching a tornado in the face it sucks to wake up then too, but in a different way. At least with the superhero dream I still feel like I had a really fun dream when I wake up. Waking up from these girlfriend dreams just sucks. I wake up feeling all good inside for the first few seconds. Then as my mind slowly starts to go into awake mode I realize that it was all a dream, and all those nice, warm fuzzy emotions weren't real at all. I guess the real reason why the girlfriend dreams are so much more painful than the superhero dreams is pretty simple. Being a superhero and punching a tornado in the face is impossible in real life, so there's really no point in dwelling on it. The best you can do is just hope to have another awesome dream the next night. Being in a happy, loving relationship on the other hand is completely possible and realistic. I think that's what makes them easier to dwell on. Not only do the dreams seem real because they're plausible situations, but the emotions you feel during them feel more genuine too. It all feels so complicated and difficult to explain. Best way I can think of to describe the feeling when I wake up is like going through a mini break-up. A brief feeling of deep depression that I can at least get over quicker because I realize it was just a dream, and not real at all. Actually no, scratch that last metaphor because I just thought of a better one. Having one of these dreams is like being presented with a giant cake. It's big and covered in pretty colored frosting, and it looks so tasty that you want to throw away your fork and dive in face first. Only when you lean over to take that first big bite a giant angry fist jumps out of the cake and bonks you square on the nose...
Back injury:
Another terrible thing that happened to me this week was a random back injury. I say it was a random injury because I was just standing around doing nothing at all when it happened. Really, just standing there. Not bending over to tie my shoe, not lifting anything heavy, not twisting my spine in some sort of bizzaro world way that you could probably only see these days at a run down travelling freak show in the worst part of Russia. Just standing there. It was as though some douche from an alternate universe came to our dimension, zapped me in the middle of my back with a taser, and then popped back to his own dimension before I had time to figure out what had just happened to me as I lay on my floor in horrible pain. It just had to happen right before I was supposed to leave for work of course. Working a 10 hour shift when you feel the top half of your body is literally about to fall off from the lower half is always a fun way to spend the day. I spent my shift trying very hard not to spine unless absolutely necessary. Luckily I had the foresight to grab a bottle of Ibuprofen before I left the hose, so at least I could pop pain pill like they were skittles to dull the pain a bit. After my 10 hours of hell I did start to feel a bit better, and the combination of pain pills and sleeping pills managed to knock me out soon after I got home. The next morning I did feel better even without painkiller, so at least I know it wasn't a serious back injury. I'd really hate to have to try and explain that to a doctor. They'd probably want to put me in some sort of medical journal for freaks as "the guy who destroyed his back by just standing around." I have been exercising frequently the last few weeks, so my best guess is that I either over did it with one of my exercises, or I just haven't been stretching enough. Either way it's put a real damper on my exercise routine for the last 2 days. This also bummed me out a bit because I was just starting to feel like I was getting some real results in the strength and stamina department. Oh well, another day or so and I'm sure I'll be feeling fine again and ready to get back to getting back into shape before my move back to Portland. I have this weird goal in my head that I want to be in better shape than my best buddy Zach before I get back to Portland because... well, just because... I guess I don't really have a legitimate reason, it's just something I want to to. I'm not going to rub it in his face, and it's not like I'm trying to impress him, but it's a goal non-the-less, and in a weird way it has helped motivate me to exercise, so I'm sticking with it as a goal. Oh, and just in case Sarah Hoyt is reading this, please don't tell Zach about my secret goal to get in better shape than him. I have this irrational paranoia that if he finds out the whole thing will turn into a competition of sorts and I'll lose this motivation. I realize Zach could just as easily read my livejournal and find out, but I don't see that as a likely possibility. I only mention you Sarah because I know you still occasionally update you're livejournal, so you might stumble across this entry of mine :)
The final thing that has been pissing me of this week is my job. There are a couple things about my job that have bothered me this week, but the one I'd like to vent about now is a specific coworker that has been bothering me for a long while. This week he has just been particularly unbearable. Before I get into what he's been doing this week that bothers me, I think I should talk a little about why I dislike him in general. To put it simply, he's the most disgusting human being I've ever met. It's not like he doesn't shower, or has hideous acne. Nothing like that. He just has these little bad habits that a lot of people have, but he seems to take them to an extreme level that makes them completely horrendous to witness. First, chews with his mouth open. This normally wouldn't bother me that much, even though it is a pet peeve of mine. This guy though, it's just disgusting to be around him when he eats. It's like the entire concept of keeping his mouth closed while he chews is completely lost on him. It's what I imagine it would be like to watch someone without a nose eat. At least they'd have the excuse of needing to chew with their mouth open because otherwise they couldn't breathe. This guy though, every bite is like an extravaganza of loud chewing, smacking, and comping noises. I can only compare it to the sound pigs make while eating in old cartoons(minus the pig snorts). It's disgusting enough to watch, but even if I'm sitting at the opposite end of the break room I can still hear the noises clear as day. It's a big break room too, probably close to 50 feet long. Not only that, but I can often hear him eating when I start walking down the long hallway towards the break room. That easily makes him 100 feet away. You know someone is a noisy eater if you can hear them chomping from 100 feet away. Not only that, but he's a slurper too. God help me if he's eating soup or anything that can be slurped up into his mouth. One day he brought spaghetti for his lunch, and the combination of loud slurping and munching was too much for me to bear. I spent the next 20 minutes of my 30 minute break hanging out on the opposite side of the building because it was too cold to spend that much time outside, and the opposite end of the building was the only other place I knew I'd be safe from the noise. Another thing I should point out is that his open-mouth chewing is so bad that he has to actually tilt his head back while he eats. You'd think the inconvienience of having to stare at the celein while you eat, so that your food doesn't fall out of your mouth, would be enough to convince anyone to just close their mouth while they chew. Not him though. He's also a nose picker. This one doesn't bother me as a whole in that it's not a pet peeve of mine. I understand that sometimes a nose just needs to be picked for whatever reason. The reason it gets to me when he does it though is because he works about 15 feet away from me, and is in my direct line of sight. I'll be sitting there filling out paperwork, or examining circuit boards, when I suddenly look up and see him digging for green gold. If it were a quick dig I wouldn't care, but when this guy picks his nose he really goes all out. When I first started noticing how long he spends picking his nose I decided it might be funny to time him just for a laugh. So one day when I was lucky enough to catch him starting a fresh dig session I grabbed one of the timers I use for cooking circuit board epoxy and hit start. I was genuinely amazed when he stopped at 9 minutes and 22 seconds. Ever since then it seems I have the unfortunate luck of glancing upwards just as he's starting to pick, and once I notice it I can't seem to un-notice it no matter how hard I try. He's been doing it a lot more frequently this last week too, which leads me to the next thing I dislike about him and also makes him a disgusting human being. He's clearly been very ill throughout the entire week, and it's most definitely some form of strep or bronchitis based on how bad his cough sounds. I can sympathize a little for the poor guy struggling to get through work when he should be at home, resting in bed. My sympathies run dry however as soon as he starts hacking up huge globs of disgusting phlegm and spiting them into the garbage can every 2 minutes. On top of that he coughs all over everything around him, and never covers his mouth. Me being extremely sick very soon feels almost inevitable now after spending the whole week working near him. That's was pisses me off the most about him recently. He should be at home if he's this sick, and I know that he could be at home if he wanted to because just last week he was bragging about how many PTO/Sick days he has saved up. The reason he doesn't stay home is because he just doesn't want to. He's one of those weird fucking people who seem to actually have to life outside of work. He'll work 7 days a week if he can. I know this because from around the end of last October up until about mid January my boss had been asking everyone to work overtime every week, and sure enough he was there 7 days a week every week. He actually complained to the higher-ups when they told us that we weren't allowed to work any more overtime for a while because February was going to be a slow month for the company. So here's this guy, who is not only being extra gross because he's sick, but he's also exposing me to his sickness for 10 hours a day. Oh, and I know that this doesn't really have anything to do with him being a gross person, but his name just happens to be Dung. Yep, his first name is another word for shit. His full name is Dung Tran. He's an asian guy, and I'm pretty sure his first name doesn't have the same meaning in his home country. It's still an interesting coincidence that someone I find so gross would just happen to be named Dung.
Ok, so that about does it for this week I guess. Now I'm just going to rant and complain about random things as they pop into my brain.
Facebook:
I've started to develop a loathing of facebook. I hate how it advertises itself as social networking, but really it's just another way for people who already know each other to spew out random tidbits of stupid. There are only 4 or 5 friends of mine on facebook whom I actually give a damn about hearing what they have to say about anything. The rest is mostly jerk-offs I went to high school with who either feel the need to advertise every mundane detail of their daily lives, or force their political ideals on anyone who is willing to argue with them via facebook comments. I think the thing the I dislike the most about facebook is the vact that it claims to be social networking, but in fact it seems to be anything but social. Everyone on the site seems to have become so concerned with concealing their identity that it's impossible to really be social with anyone you don't already know on a personal level. I'm not exempt from this. My facebook profile is so private that you can't even find it if you're not already my friend. This is because of my psycho ex Dez, who also took up the hobby of stalking me after I broke up with her. There was a period of a few months where I would change my relationship status to single, and then she'd somehow get into my account and change it back to saying I was dating her. Stupid fucking shit. Eventually I had to change my profile name to a fake name, change my profile picture to something other than a picture of myself, and change all my emails and passwords. It really sucks, but at the same time it would be pointless not to have everything private on my profile. It's not like how myspace was where you could browse anyone's profile, and look for people that you actually had things in common with, and then try to make friends with them. It's seems like the point of sites like facebook should be to not only keep in touch with people you already know, but also try to meet cool new people to be friends with. Otherwise, what's the point of filling out all that "about me" stuff and listing things that you like. I have a feeling that when I get back to Portland I'm not going to be using facebook much anymore because I'll be close to the people I use facebook to talk to now because they're so far away. Maybe someday I'll be able to unblock my profile and actually try to talk to new people and make new friends, but until then facebook feels like a waste of my time. Good only for seeing if anything is new with 4 or 5 people I care about, and occasionally spurting out my own random event from my life, or short drunken ramble.
My Room:
This room is so oppressive lately. It seems no matter how hard I try it never manages to stay clean. It's not like I've got a shit load of empty pop cans and rotting food lying around. I'm not that much of a slob. My main problem is laundry. I'm so lazy when it comes to laundry. Organizing it, cleaning it, folding it, putting it away. Bleh, somehow it's always felt like a waste of my time. If my room was a country I would be the king, and laundry would represent my loyal subjects. That would mean that my kingdom was currently in the middle of an outbreak of black plague with bodies littered all over the streets(my floor), and my closet would be one giant mass grave for dead peasants. I need to be a better ruler, and take more time to clean up after myself, even if it does just mean picking my dirty laundry up off the floor. It seems that every time I actually manage to work up the strength to do laundry my room always looks so much nicer afterwards. Over time though the black plague slowly returns, and bodies start dropping until eventually I have yet another giant pile of dead shirts, pants, socks, and underwear inhabiting my closet. It's just clothes, so I guess I don't really consider it to be slob-like if I don't pick up my clothes. It's not like every pair of boxers has a giant shit stain on them, or every sock smells like decaying foot skin and sweat. It's just untidy, and unpleasant to look at. Like a car that's only kind of dirty. It's not like you've been driving through mud and dirt, but it would still look nice and shiny if you just took the time to wash it.
Well, I think that's enough griping for one entry. I'm feeling surprisingly exhausted considering all I've been doing is typing. I've still got more I want to bitch and rant about, so maybe I'll write more later. I think this is enough for right now though.
Goodnight.