Random night thoughts
First an explanation about the choice in listening material - my brother decided to burn to a disk, a slew of WOW Radio programing, called Blue Plz-e (I think that's how it's actually spelled, according to the file names), and seeing how he couldn't burn it as audio, he has to play it on our VHS/DVD player, which happens to act as a nice mini-computer for our burned CD's. Anyway, it's basically just a random UKanian (there's a history behind that name, and thus, the joke...I'll probably get into that later for those who care, and want to know) ranting about World of Warcraft, who happens to play some random rock(ish) music, and some bits which tend to be really funny, even though they're related to a game I really don't know anything about. It reminds me of the fun days of listenning to Absolute Anarchy, which was a little internet broadcast for Raw Dealer's, only, this guy is far more uncharismatic than Spiral could ever have hoped to become.
Anyway, enough of that, time for some ranting:
1 - Fuck my work.
Working at the Grand Concourse Academy Charter school seems to be more of a pain in the ass than I thought it would be. My first week was just a little short of a disaster, as Tuesday, I was sick, and in addition to that, missed my bus to start up work (my job is suppossed to start on the school bus with the kids). I turn back home, only for my sympthoms to worsen, so I opt to ride it out, rather than grab the 11 bus to the school. This all spanning from 5:30 in the morning, when I awoke to start my day, up until about 8. I get a call from Cindy, my neighbor, and assistant principal of the school, calls me up to find out where I am, and I figure I should try to go into work after all. Get there at 9:30-ish, and spend a good 40 minutes of my hour long day, hunched over the toilet, wondering if I'm going to hurl, or if my stomach will simply melt its way out of my body. That day was, for the better part of it, my best day at work, thus far!
Monday, the previous day, I was shown the ropes of dealing with the paper work, and introduced to the kids. This was the first I'd hear of the news that I'd actually be watching over classes, rather than watching over the kids on the bus, in the cafeteria and in the playground. The way the job was described to me, I didn't think I'd actually be watching a class of children within their class - see, from my experiences in school, I figured I'd be the like the school aides that watched over me: they were designated to one spot, and just happened to be watching over the kids while in the midst of dealing with paper work. I thought the teachers would be the ones to keep their eye on the children for the most part, and when they're not doing it, their teacher aides would be doing that task, not me, a relegated school aide with no experience with children. Of course, I had no idea what I'd be in for in the up comming days.
See, those first two days on the job were pretty easy, compared to what I'm actually doing now. Now, I'm watching over classes, BY MYSELF, and I was never trained in how to handle and deal with the kids, so this leaves me wandering around like a chicken with its head cut-off. In addition to that, I have two classes, one I was told was the worse class in school, my first graders, and the others, I got no word of, being my second graders. I've pretty much got my first graders in line now, but I can't figure out what to do with my second graders, who happen to be worse than my first graders. I tried slamming doors, yelling at them, slamming books, slamming chairs, all to kind of remind them that what I say goes, but that only seems to have a working effect of 20 seconds, a minute tops. I figure, if anything, I should probably roll in there with a ton of writing paper, hand it out, and have them write down, over a million times, or until their blood hands fall off their wrists, whatever phrase fits for the moment. Maybe that'll start to break them in.
Oh, and in addition to the cluster fuck that is the children, I found out there's no communication between the employees and employers to inform the "new guy" of what goes on within that school: such as a dress code. Didn't I suffer enough through high school with that bullshit?
They seem to disapprove of my hair - you know, I can do that, because I have to live with it, they don't, so why should it bother them so much that my hair tends to friz out so badly? Not like I can control the fucking thing when it frizes up. I'm not even the only one with long, poofy hair, another male employee, a teacher's assistant, has wild looking hair, now that it's not cornrowed (or however the hell that would be spelt).
They seem to have a problem with ME having a beard or not, despite the fact that several other male teachers and teacher assistants have course looking facial hair.
In addition to that, they disapprove of my dressing ability. What's wrong with the way I dress? To steal a quote from Kevin Smith in regards to the way some of the teachers, and students, tend to dress, "they don't dress nice, like this."
The school is pure evil: the design was that from a drugged up, drunk, ADD suffering, crack addict of a architect. To simply describe what this building looks like, interiorly as well as exteriorly, wouldn't do it justice. The placement of the stair cases, some of the rooms all call into question just who in the hell designed this building. Then you have the parking lot with caged off play area, which features a wooden play set with 3 tire swings, 2 slides, 2 rock climbing walls, 1 lamp post ill-positioned, and a boxed off dump area that used to house a tree, but is open for the kids to actually climb up onto, and play around with all sorts of broken branches, rocks and other debris found in this cespool of a state. I think if I took pictures, this would be the only way to paint the picture that I fail to do here with my words.
As for the children - I've gotten a couple that state they know who my kid is, or ask if I have a kid, particuarly any that go to that particular school, others ask if I'm married, or have a girlfriend, then there's the ones that state I look like a rock star, or a wrestler. With stuff like that, how could I not be but a little playful around these kids? I don't want to be a total prick to them for absolutely no reason, I mean, they're just not paying me enough to be that type of person, nor are they giving me the right hours to pull that off.
See, they tell me I'm working 37 and a half hours at 8 dollars an hour, but if you look at the times I'm working, which is 6:35 in the morning, when I get on the bus, to 5:00 when I get off the bus, that's 10 hours and some odd minutes. Even if you knock off the 2 hours I get for break, unpaid, that still doesn't seem to add up to their 37 and a half hours. Not only that, I never really got a schedule as to what I'm suppossed to do, or a detailed list as to what my job entails, which would've been nice when I was waiting for this job to fall through for me, back in September and most of October.
To put it into short, blunt words: this job sucks.
2 - Sex life.
The fact that it's still non-existant, at the age of 22, should be more than enough to piss me off, and more than enough to state about how I feel about it all.
I'd probably go in further depth about what I stated in my last post, but I'd rather not, as it's 2:44 in the morning as I'm typing this, and I kind of want to wrap this up now and go to bed soon.
3 - Life of a wrestler?
I'm now thinking even stronger than before about becoming a wrestler, but as usual, the problems I have with that arrise. The first being I don't have the look to be successful, so why should I bother? The second being that I don't know how to appropriately diet to get the best results from a work out. The third being that I don't know, for certain, how I would go about working out, especially with the times I have to deal with with work now.
I could honestly continue with the list of doubts running through my mind, but some of the best positives that I think about constantly hound me, echoing in my ear:
I want to hang out with Harley Race. I want him to, one day, reminisce about me, fondly, as that "faggot Indian."
I want to be able to travel around the country, and world, facing guys I've looked up to for most of my life as being tremendous, gifted, and amazing athletes and talents.
I want to be remembered as being the biggest heel in all of wrestling history, God, or whatever higher up you might pray to, permitting.
I want to be considered, if only by the crazed 5 people that happen to like my performances, as being one of the best in the business, today.
I want that all, I want that life style. I just want to get into a ring, and do something I doubt I was designed to do: be athleticly good at something.
I guess I could think about it a little more, but I'd better act soon, if I want any results, because I'm almost 23 now, and I haven't even started anything, in life in general.
Oh, and just for the farewell, and end to this entry, I couldn't flop a single winner in any of the 2 poker tournament tables I played at. Great waste of time that turned into, as usual.
I just can't win.
Anyway, enough of that, time for some ranting:
1 - Fuck my work.
Working at the Grand Concourse Academy Charter school seems to be more of a pain in the ass than I thought it would be. My first week was just a little short of a disaster, as Tuesday, I was sick, and in addition to that, missed my bus to start up work (my job is suppossed to start on the school bus with the kids). I turn back home, only for my sympthoms to worsen, so I opt to ride it out, rather than grab the 11 bus to the school. This all spanning from 5:30 in the morning, when I awoke to start my day, up until about 8. I get a call from Cindy, my neighbor, and assistant principal of the school, calls me up to find out where I am, and I figure I should try to go into work after all. Get there at 9:30-ish, and spend a good 40 minutes of my hour long day, hunched over the toilet, wondering if I'm going to hurl, or if my stomach will simply melt its way out of my body. That day was, for the better part of it, my best day at work, thus far!
Monday, the previous day, I was shown the ropes of dealing with the paper work, and introduced to the kids. This was the first I'd hear of the news that I'd actually be watching over classes, rather than watching over the kids on the bus, in the cafeteria and in the playground. The way the job was described to me, I didn't think I'd actually be watching a class of children within their class - see, from my experiences in school, I figured I'd be the like the school aides that watched over me: they were designated to one spot, and just happened to be watching over the kids while in the midst of dealing with paper work. I thought the teachers would be the ones to keep their eye on the children for the most part, and when they're not doing it, their teacher aides would be doing that task, not me, a relegated school aide with no experience with children. Of course, I had no idea what I'd be in for in the up comming days.
See, those first two days on the job were pretty easy, compared to what I'm actually doing now. Now, I'm watching over classes, BY MYSELF, and I was never trained in how to handle and deal with the kids, so this leaves me wandering around like a chicken with its head cut-off. In addition to that, I have two classes, one I was told was the worse class in school, my first graders, and the others, I got no word of, being my second graders. I've pretty much got my first graders in line now, but I can't figure out what to do with my second graders, who happen to be worse than my first graders. I tried slamming doors, yelling at them, slamming books, slamming chairs, all to kind of remind them that what I say goes, but that only seems to have a working effect of 20 seconds, a minute tops. I figure, if anything, I should probably roll in there with a ton of writing paper, hand it out, and have them write down, over a million times, or until their blood hands fall off their wrists, whatever phrase fits for the moment. Maybe that'll start to break them in.
Oh, and in addition to the cluster fuck that is the children, I found out there's no communication between the employees and employers to inform the "new guy" of what goes on within that school: such as a dress code. Didn't I suffer enough through high school with that bullshit?
They seem to disapprove of my hair - you know, I can do that, because I have to live with it, they don't, so why should it bother them so much that my hair tends to friz out so badly? Not like I can control the fucking thing when it frizes up. I'm not even the only one with long, poofy hair, another male employee, a teacher's assistant, has wild looking hair, now that it's not cornrowed (or however the hell that would be spelt).
They seem to have a problem with ME having a beard or not, despite the fact that several other male teachers and teacher assistants have course looking facial hair.
In addition to that, they disapprove of my dressing ability. What's wrong with the way I dress? To steal a quote from Kevin Smith in regards to the way some of the teachers, and students, tend to dress, "they don't dress nice, like this."
The school is pure evil: the design was that from a drugged up, drunk, ADD suffering, crack addict of a architect. To simply describe what this building looks like, interiorly as well as exteriorly, wouldn't do it justice. The placement of the stair cases, some of the rooms all call into question just who in the hell designed this building. Then you have the parking lot with caged off play area, which features a wooden play set with 3 tire swings, 2 slides, 2 rock climbing walls, 1 lamp post ill-positioned, and a boxed off dump area that used to house a tree, but is open for the kids to actually climb up onto, and play around with all sorts of broken branches, rocks and other debris found in this cespool of a state. I think if I took pictures, this would be the only way to paint the picture that I fail to do here with my words.
As for the children - I've gotten a couple that state they know who my kid is, or ask if I have a kid, particuarly any that go to that particular school, others ask if I'm married, or have a girlfriend, then there's the ones that state I look like a rock star, or a wrestler. With stuff like that, how could I not be but a little playful around these kids? I don't want to be a total prick to them for absolutely no reason, I mean, they're just not paying me enough to be that type of person, nor are they giving me the right hours to pull that off.
See, they tell me I'm working 37 and a half hours at 8 dollars an hour, but if you look at the times I'm working, which is 6:35 in the morning, when I get on the bus, to 5:00 when I get off the bus, that's 10 hours and some odd minutes. Even if you knock off the 2 hours I get for break, unpaid, that still doesn't seem to add up to their 37 and a half hours. Not only that, I never really got a schedule as to what I'm suppossed to do, or a detailed list as to what my job entails, which would've been nice when I was waiting for this job to fall through for me, back in September and most of October.
To put it into short, blunt words: this job sucks.
2 - Sex life.
The fact that it's still non-existant, at the age of 22, should be more than enough to piss me off, and more than enough to state about how I feel about it all.
I'd probably go in further depth about what I stated in my last post, but I'd rather not, as it's 2:44 in the morning as I'm typing this, and I kind of want to wrap this up now and go to bed soon.
3 - Life of a wrestler?
I'm now thinking even stronger than before about becoming a wrestler, but as usual, the problems I have with that arrise. The first being I don't have the look to be successful, so why should I bother? The second being that I don't know how to appropriately diet to get the best results from a work out. The third being that I don't know, for certain, how I would go about working out, especially with the times I have to deal with with work now.
I could honestly continue with the list of doubts running through my mind, but some of the best positives that I think about constantly hound me, echoing in my ear:
I want to hang out with Harley Race. I want him to, one day, reminisce about me, fondly, as that "faggot Indian."
I want to be able to travel around the country, and world, facing guys I've looked up to for most of my life as being tremendous, gifted, and amazing athletes and talents.
I want to be remembered as being the biggest heel in all of wrestling history, God, or whatever higher up you might pray to, permitting.
I want to be considered, if only by the crazed 5 people that happen to like my performances, as being one of the best in the business, today.
I want that all, I want that life style. I just want to get into a ring, and do something I doubt I was designed to do: be athleticly good at something.
I guess I could think about it a little more, but I'd better act soon, if I want any results, because I'm almost 23 now, and I haven't even started anything, in life in general.
Oh, and just for the farewell, and end to this entry, I couldn't flop a single winner in any of the 2 poker tournament tables I played at. Great waste of time that turned into, as usual.
I just can't win.