lingering thought #18

Why is it that everytime I really like someone I have to leave for school/home for months at a time, completely ruinning everything? My "love life" has very unfortunate timing. always

start of last year
winter break
right now

who cares

Is it "oh well" or "all well"???

I'm thinking "all well". If you say it with a silly accent, you can't even tell. So I guess that's what I'm gonna have to do from now on.
yeah

p.s. I took a shit in the dark yesterday cuz my power was out.
p.p.s. I've stopped caring about people knowing that I shit.

the code

Do guys think that girls are stupid? Do they think that we don't understand what they are talking about? Cuz personally, I think I have cracked their code.
For instance, if a guy is bugging another guy and keeps saying crap about the "game" they are playing and how they're gonna go play their "game" over there and let him play his "game"... I think they might not be talking about the football they're tossing around. I think they might be using "game" to mean something else. Just a theory.
Tip to males everywhere: I have ears. My hearing is impecable. I am also rather clever and perceptive. If you're going to say something in this "code" of yours, I'm probably going to get wise to what you're talking about. Just a heads up.
SiLLy BoYs

discovered

"Have you ever done any dancing?"
(huh?)

I was standing patiently in a US Cellular store when a man next to me began what turned out to be a rather interesting conversation. I had come in the search of a car charger and left with a bit more.
"Have you ever done any dancing?"
"No"
"Really!? You've never done any dancing?"
"No. Well, in high school kinda."
"No, (chuckle) I don't mean like cheerleading."
(Is this guy trying to hit on me? He's a few years too old for this.)
A few minutes later and I had explained my high school career in show choir.
(Watch him give me some line about having a dancer's body.)
"Oh, so more broadway. Never anything like hip-hop... more that kind of thing?"
"Oh. No. I've never really done anything like that."
(Is he gonna ask me to go to some club or something? Where is this going?)
"I meant more like exotic."
(Oh my goodness)
"No no... I've never done anything like that."
"There's good money in dancing."
"I bet, but I don't think I could ever do it."
At this point I sense the conversation ending as I begin to blush, he takes a step away, and there is an awkward pause.
"Well, if you ever want to, you should let me know."
(Guess not.)
"Oh, so you're in that business?"
"Haha, no I'm not in that business."
(Then what the hell are you talking about?)
"I put on private parties. They're a lot of fun."
"Oh I see."
"We make use of all that beauty."
The man now looks me up and down and I half expect him to say, "daa-um"
"Well, I really don't think I could do it. I'd be too embarrassed."
(Why am I here alone? Dear God, why did I come alone? Buddy system!)
"Nah. If you wanted you could just come to the first party, not to dance or anything, and just pass out drinks, see what it's all about, and if it's not your thing then fine. You could just come check it out. The parties really are a lot of fun."
"Eh, really I'd too be embarrassed."
(I'm sweating... badly. I bet if I took my jacket off and he saw the pit stains he'd leave me alone.)
He motions for a girl a few feet away to come over.
"Girl, I've been dancing for almost a year now."
"Oh, really?"
"It's good money and it's a lot of fun."
"I don't know."
"Well, you think about it. I think you'd enjoy it and I think you'd be good."
(My face is bright red just talking about this. How does he think I'd be good? And this girl is actually hot.)
"Here, I'll give you my card. Just give me a call."
"Okay, thanks."
(What would my grandmother think? Wait 'til I tell my friends about this.)
He hands me a business card with his number written on the back. I look it over as he's still standing there. Then his name is called and someone comes over to help him.
"Weren't you here before me?"
"No, I don't think so. You go ahead."
(What just happened? Did this man really just suggest that I become a stripper for private parties? No. Oh my God, he did. I've been discovered. heh. But no. I could never do something like that. I am poor though, and I bet those parties could be fun. And I bet if I had a little in me it wouldn't be that hard. No. I'd never get away with it. Maybe I could just pass out drinks all the time, not dance. As long as there was a guy from the company there looking out for me so I'd feel safe. No, what am I thinking? This is insane. I get creeped out when old men look at me in the grocery store. Oh my God. Do I need to be watching my back when I leave here? I'm never going anywhere alone again. I'm still sweaty. Oh my goodness, I just want a car charger.)

I am hungry

Dilemna: You have no food and you spent all your grocery money at Old Navy.
Solution: Drink lots of water.

random observation #8

The roomie noted below didn't wash her hands after taking a poop. yeah

who's your dentist?

The following are the calculations of a math major and the horrors of a roommate. This combination resolves any speculation of error. There is truth in the words you will read, to the misfortune of many.

~I've gone through three tubes of toothpaste since September. My roommate on the other hand is still on her first tube. In my opinion that is a big difference, and I'm a little concerned for the health of her gums and the longevity of her assumed plaque ridden teeth. Just to clarify, this tube she is ever-so-slowly making her way through is merely dented. It is not as if she is even almost finished with the thing.
~At this rate, (if my calculations are correct) it'll take her at least another 16 months until the last bit is squeezed out. That would make the tube last a record-breaking 24 months. For all you calendar savvy people out there, that's 2 years to finish 1 tube of toothpaste. I am disturbed, not to mention utterly confused seeing as though I'm going through them at a rate of 2.67 months per tube. That's almost 9 times faster.
~Now, let's give the girl the benefit of the doubt. She has gone home almost every weekend. (don't mistake this for me complaining about such things) That's about 10 days every month that she hasn't been here, making a total of 80 days to be subtracted from her usage. However, I've also gone home maybe 6 weekends, so really we'll subtract 68 days. So we'll give her about 2.2 month's leeway for weekends. (following me?) Also, I can be kinda anal about brushing my own teeth, doing so numerous times a day. In addition, one could argue that perhaps she uses less toothpaste than I do per brushing. Figuring in these variables, we'll cut her another half a tube's slack. There can be no difference in the quality of toothpaste, as we use the same brand. So there's no variable to consider there. Also, her tube is 6.2 ounces, as all three of mine have been.
~Figuring in the 2.2 months for weekends, we'll say the tube lasts her about 21.8 months. With the half a tube difference because of my obsessive brushing, we figure that it would be 3.2 months per tube. This makes the consumption of toothpaste 6.8 times slower for this girl I share a room with. After considering all of these things, using a tube of toothpaste 6.8 times slower still seems like a cause for concern.
~I wonder if her dentist is aware of this. I'm sure anyone in the dental profession would warn that going through a tube any more than 1.37 times slower than normal is a risk not worth taking. Does she not care about herself? Cavities hurt. Dentures are a hassle. Also, teeth covered in plaque simply are not attractive. This brings me to wonder how she has a boyfriend while I do not. Do boys enjoy kissing a girl with fuzzy teeth? Why, God? Why does the girl that obviously (to the horror of dentists everywhere) does not use toothpaste have a boyfriend and I don't? (Let's pretend to not remember that her boyfriend is not worth being jealous of... yuck)

that is all

Takin' a Shit on Company Time

Makes me feel free.

Sometimes I purposely go to the bathroom before punching out or wait until I’m punched in before strolling to the restroom. Actually, I do that a lot. We’re talking almost every day. Why? Because I can and I’m a money hungry bastard that enjoys taking advantage of that crap. If I can get paid to pee, I’m going to. It’s my way of sticking it to the man. Take that. I’m gonna go piss while you pay me! Whahaha. Not that I take tremendous amounts of time in the bathroom for it to actually make a difference in my pay, but whatever.

I think I’m gonna go walk to the office, punch in, use the restroom, punch out, and walk back while laughing devilishly. No more peeing for free! Damn, I’m a genius.

my life

"Sometimes when you hold out for everything, you walk away with nothing."

EaSTeR

Easter is good.
...
Yeah, that's it. Easter is good.
I had a whole thing typed out, but it seemed to diminish everything. Some things you just can't put in words and expect to get the same feeling from it.
That is all.

HaPPy EaSTeR EveRyBoDy!!!

twosome

I've decided to create a second blog for the more serious of my mind tinkerings instead of having the depressing stuff litter this space. Head here if you're interested. Be warned that posting there may be kind of sporadic and more raw.

default passing-by convo

Beginning from roughly 6 feet away while passing in opposite directions, the following becomes the standard conversation, as there is little time for anything more significant.

person #1: Hey [name], how are you?
person #2: I'm good. How are you?
person #1: Good.
person #2: That's good.

At this point person #1 & 2 have passed one another, ending all conversation.


We lead boring lives, for if we were more exciting and interesting people our passing-by conversations would read more like the following.
person #1: Dude, what are you up to this weekend?
person #2: Party in Vegas. And you?
person #1: Third date in Paris.
person #2: Sweet.

berlin

I've been thinking a lot lately about a certain time in my life and the way it undoubtedly shaped who I am today. I can mull over things endlessly, searching for answers, reliving horrors, questioning reality, and debating whether things were ever as I conceived them. I've survived any hardships I've had to endure and there's no doubt I'm a stronger person for it, and yet the things that terrified me back then still cause me to tremble with fear.
Sometimes, the more I think about it, the more I can't help but find resentment. I have a hard time looking people in the face sometimes, like they'll be able to see it in my eyes. When confronted by certain things I dodge the topic or react in a way that would be accepted as normal. I don't want to be defined by this. I don't really even know why these things keep cropping up in my mind. How can one brief period in my past play such a large role in my present?
I used to hide in my closet when I was little. It was my way of shutting out the world. My closet here isn't fit for hiding.

"Sometimes we put up walls. Not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to knock them down."
I think my walls actually are built to keep people out.

i have a dirty secret
that i've kept for years
it's brought me so much heartace
brought so many tears

i can't seem to find them
they seem so far away
the words to tell my secret
the words i cannot say

it lingers in the background
forever haunting me
its presence is exhausting
sometimes it's all i see

i've closed all the doors
and locked them pretty tight
now any chance of honesty
is hidden out of sight

probably not very nice

Does anyone else gag a little when gross people use words like "babe" or "sexy" or "hun"?
Or is that just me? Cuz I'm gaggin'.
I sure hope it's not audible. That could be rude.
And I try to remain considerate. Afterall, I managed to restrain from playing "dontcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? dontcha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? dontcha?" when certain individuals walked in.
But let me tell ya, it was a struggle.

quote of the day #3

"... well... I'm sure you'll get there."

WHAT THE F DOES THAT MEAN???

time tales

~You'd think I'd get it the hang of it by now. I've been alive for 39 time changes due to daylight savings time. Yet, I still can't seem to grasp it. One of these years I'll figure it out.
~The past fall, I spent my usually appreciated extra hour in utter confusion. See, no one had bothered to inform me that it was daylight savings time and I can't be expected to know these things on my own. I was completly lost as to why every clock I saw was claiming a different time, some having changed automatically and other not. I finally retired to bed that night accepting over consumption of alcohol as the reason for my delirium. This may say something about my deductive reasoning skills, seeing as though I hadn't consumed an ounce of alcohol that night.
~The tricky bastard known as daylight savings time has come again, but this time I was ready for it. I noted its appearance on my handy-dandy calendar, and I decided I wouldn't let it do me in again. Now, I was ready for its attack on my hour (so I stocked up), but I obviously don't really understand this whole time change thing, which (among other things) makes me fearful of a time when I will be catapulted into the real world and expected to function as a compotent individual capable of daily life without consulting a slew of others to answer seemingly unnecessary questions.
~This time around I was uncertain of when exactly the change took place. I wasn't sure if we would be losing an hour Saturday night or Sunday night, but I was determined to practice my independence and deal with this one of my many uncertainties solo. I remember my mother once telling me that the official change occured at 2am, so I figured I'd be ready to wake up Sunday an hour earlier. Now I had a foolproof plan. Cell phones set the time automagically, right? (yeah that's right, automagically) So I set my cell phone alarm and went to bed content.
~Sunday morning I awoke, readied myself for the day, and got in the car. I had good intentions of attending mass and was damn proud of myself that this would be the fourth week in a row. I arrived and parked my car just in time to see a stream of people exiting the church. According to my cell phone, I had ten minutes to spare. According to the crowd of people now entering their own vehicles, I was an hour late. The theme to The Twilight Zone could be heard faintly from my car radio. (no not really, idiot)
~Then today I almost missed seeing one of my professors because of my time troubles. Hell, I still don't know what time it is. This crap has managed to bewilder me for two days. TWO DAYS

p.s. The Brewers just won their opener!!! woot woot
p.s.s. Doug Davis is hot.
p.s.s.s. No, seriously. I mean really Hot. Like capital H Hot.
p.s.s.s.s. Actually, let's make that a capital H, capital O, capital T... HOT

zzzzzz

I'm pretty sure I slept for like 12 hours.
I'm also pretty sure there was a nap sometime before that.
Why is it the more you sleep the more tired you are?

I'm gonna get my hair cut.
My favorite color is green.