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November 1st, 2010
02:09 pm
Fucking McDonald's. I pay good money for my terrible, artery encrusting food, and I have to go back and switch out my order three times before I can go home. Then I get there, and discover that they put the wrong sandwich in the right packaging.
With that complaining done, I will do more complaining.
I have been trying to buy a Kindle for four months, because it can save me a lot of money on books, and doesn't take up 14 boxes every time I have to move, and three book shelves when I'm not.
I've pretty much replaced gaming with reading at this point, and go through just about two books a week. But because of my plans here, I've stopped buying new books, and read through my backlog. I've succeeded at this, and having been trying to dig something worthwhile out of the library's romance novels for about a month now.
But I have the money to buy the kindle now. Can I really buy it? Nope. My parents got me one, for Christmas. They are totally happy with telling me this. So I can't buy it now. I also can't use it. It gets to sit in the safe in my dad's office for two months.
So now I'm stuck with a dinky midwestern library that keeps itself afloat by stocking only books that bored, middle aged housewives want to read. I mean, it's incredibly easy to pirate books for an e-reader, and I have more ebooks on hand than the damn thing can hold. But it has to sit in a box now, so that I can act surprised on a holiday that I don't care about.
What a waste.
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September 1st, 2010
05:15 am
I just don't like a lot of the memories that coming here brings up. The majority of the people who might read this journal are people I knew from a particular forum I spent a lot of time on when I was the very spitting image of the lolsorandumb, trying to be smart and witty and failing stereotype. I've tried really hard to make that not the case, and even feel like I succeeded considerably before my stay at said forum ended, but every time I start to feel nostalgic, the list of dumb shit I've said or been a part of bobs up to the surface. When it starts to get to me, I just slouch off somewhere and do something else. I know nobody really remembers that stuff years later, but there you go. I'm obsessive.
I don't really have anywhere else to vent, or to say the things that get wrung out of my head all day and all night. I could just write it all out and sit on it, I guess, but it changes things when it might show up on someone else's screen. It's all unimportant bullshit, nothing that anybody needs to know, or anything that I really feel the need to tell somebody, but part of the simplicity of engaging in a form of possible communication just seems to help.
I think I'm just damaged. Some sort of chemical imbalance. People tell me the symptoms, so to speak, sound like mild OCD. So far as I know people with OCD just have to find a way to live with their weird triggers and rituals, and I don't like the sound of that. I can't even try to get it diagnosed, because providing healthcare to the poor and unfortunate is socialist propaganda.
On a similar note, one of the reasons I'm here is probably because I haven't slept since Monday morning, and that was only a four hour nap. I've gone through classes and my shift at work today, dead to the world, but I get home, take a look at my bed and know nothing's going to be happening there. (which sounds a lot more suggestive that I meant it, but hey, that's not going on there either) My insomnia is usually not bad, but still, you get to know the feelings when you might as well just not bother. I'll just lay there for hours and get nothing out of it.
And the whole time I can't escape that I hate my job. I'm stocking shelves now. I had to take a three dollar paycut to get out of my last job before it fell apart on me, and now I can barely keep myself in walls and fed. I managed to pay for a couple classes this semester, but it left me bumming gas and groceries for most of two months. Also my car is falling apart and there's nothing I can do about it. And I can't get to my job or school without it. And everyone I could borrow money from if worst comes to worst is as broke as I am.
I am pretty fucked.
On a lighter note, I turned 24 last month, and have been informed that I no longer have to include my parents' W2's on my financial aid applications. This means I can actually get money. For my low pay potential liberal arts degree.
Seriously, this is starting to depress me even more.
Later.
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April 1st, 2010
01:32 pm
I got Strange Journey. It is yay.
I was playing it over at Chas's. I was talking about the game, and telling people cool stuff about it, and Jacob kept interrupting me to talk like he knew all about it too. But everything he said, ever, was totally, amazingly wrong. Because the only SMT game he's ever played was when he downloaded a ROM of SMT1. I mean, shit, he kept being all, "But isn't it a pain the ass that you can't stack items?" And I'm all, "You can stack items, jesus shit it's not 1992 anymore, go play Nocturne and stop sucking"
It was annoying.
... that is all.
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February 26th, 2010
07:14 pm
Okay, so after that last post... I went to sleep. If it can be called sleep. And woke up maybe half an hoour ago. Shit, man, what was that, like 14 hours ago? I am beyhong the ability to count all of the hours right now.
I can even click on shit right. I am messed up beyong all reason. But at least I don't have to work tonight. ... which was something of a surprise, but whatever.
There was only one dose of nyquil left this morning, and now I am out. :(
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04:03 am
A bit of food hit an irritated spot weird in my throat and I heaved it up immediately (just that piece, and nothing from down below, thankfully), then coughed so hard that tears are streaming down my face, I have a headache, and it feels like my temples are attempting to emancipate themselves from my body.
Being sick is fun.
I went to work, and have just come home a few minutes ago. I was worried that the guy I was working with was going to be a filthy dickcheese monkeycock and be all passive aggressive about me leaving him with about ten minutes worth of my work to do, but he was cool about it, considering he would've had to do all of it if I'd called in.
Spent most of wednesday being all ooky and trying to sleep, then hung around Chas's for a little bit, but went home by aobut 8. Then went in and out of messed up fever dreams for about 20 hours. Was feeling better then, which is when I decided not to call in. Ended up skipping school Thursday morning due to be being unable to think coherently. A little worried about that, since my math test Wednesday will basically decided whether it's possible to pass, or if I should just give up. If I'm unprepared I will have wasted some serious time and money.
I think I'm going to go pass out, maybe.
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February 16th, 2010
07:19 am
You know, what makes me mad, is when I'm talking to somebody new and for whatever reason end up mentioning my crazy ex-girlfriend, and whoever I'm talking to goes, "OOOOOoooh man, crazy chicks, man. They're the best, dude. Dude, gimme her phone number, I totally want in on that. Also let's go hit up the beer bong, brah, and maybe play Halo for the next 16 hours because holy shit what the fuck is wrong with these people,"
Man. I am trying to tell you that the whole thing was fucked up, and totally not pleasant in any way, and the dude wants to ask for her fucking phone number?
I about went nuts on these two guys the other day for just this reason.
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February 15th, 2010
05:48 pm
I have a burrito that I could probably beat somebody to death with, I'm just a little tipsy, I've read three books in the past two and a half days, and I have homework to occupy night off number one.
It is time to rock.
Also, I don't think I've been in a walmart in a very long time without regretting it. I just can't handle crowds of people.
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February 10th, 2010
07:24 pm
I am so glad it took me this long to see The Mist. The story is probably the worst thing I've ever read with the name Stephen King on it, but I had a little hope for the movie, because I've heard so many people say it was good. It has all of the same things that pissed me off about the book. If it were actually about a conflict between small town people and horrible monstrosities that come out of an ethereal mist, then it would be better. But it's not. There are small town people, and there are horrible monstrosities that come out of an ethereal mist. But that all takes a pretty big backseat to "The Infallible Joe Everyman in The Attack of the Straw Men." There might as well be somebody walking around that little super market with a label gun. "Christian straw man, check. Smarmy douchebag straw man, check. Big shot city man straw man, check. Good, down home all American family man who is right about everything, possesses godlike leadership ability gives Jesus a run for his money on being a nice guy, check. Token female for him to attach to, check." You might as well not even watch the rest of the movie. It's all just, The Protagonist is right. There is a twist at the end. Save your money.
That's about it for now.
Pretty much I'm just here to complain about that.
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12:12 am
I guess Chas met some guy who wanted to do some table top and we are hanging out and by hanging out I mean something about how these guys espouse the going to a bar and hitting on women style of hanging out and I guess some of such women are on the way here and I just went through about half a dozen double shot jagerbombs and wow I can't walk right.
I have nothing against drinking, but I prefer just dropping a glass or two of wine to reach a point of stuff being just a little bit hilarious rather than the really messed up drunk that I have achieved right now.
The 360 doesn't want to read any games right now because it's an old piece of crap, and I would feel weird breaking out my PSP with all of these people around, so I'm mostly just hanging around and reading a little bit.
I'm thinking tomorrow I might just stay home and try to do some writing for a few hours. I have been doing all of this socializing today, so maybe I can be a hermit tomorrow.
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February 4th, 2010
06:03 pm
Weird nightmare. Just the strangest godamn thing. That woke me up HARD.
It was in a place like my old apartment, but a little different. The floorplan was similar, but the furniture was gone or different, and the little bathroom on the opposite end of the room was down a short hallway instead. I woke up, in my bed, just where it really was, and saw little lights floating from the bathroom to the front door, which was open. This all seemed really normal, maybe even nice or exciting. I got up, and received a phone call on my cell phone. The lady on the line had a very calm voice, and introduced herself as the receptionist of a mental institution. She wanted to talk about a service in which nice people called in to lonely inmates so that they had someone to talk to and didn't feel lonely. She mentioned that I had used the service to talk to at least one inmate, with an implication of more. I don't remember what question I asked but the response was, "Someone will throw your mother down the stairs, kick her in the face and kill your dog." In the same very calm voice. I thought this was odd... but didn't react accordingly. The lady continued on asking me to use the service more often, because a certain inmate had been asking for me by name. I said something along the lines of "oh, is that so" and the lady continued saying that they knew she was asking for me; no matter what she has, she means William (which is just what she said). This was pretty vague, but I got the impression of someone holding a doll and trying to use it to help her communicate. The particular image was she was holding a doll of a monkey. I knew who that was. It feels like I'd dreamed about the person before, and possibly the thing with the crazy call in service in general was a dream I'd had before, and this dream was just referencing it. Or perhaps it and my recognition were just creations of the dream. I said, "Oh, so that's the one who called me a monkey for 45 minutes." and the lady said yes, and that she'd told her that someone was going to skin my dog and burn my house and make me suffer.
There I decided that the lady I was talking to was the inmate herself, and I was done with the conversation. I hung up and woke up.
And to add to that craziness, while the phone conversation was going on, I was pacing around my apartment, which is something that I do. All of the doors were open. The front door and the bathroom door. I walked over towards the front door to see why it was open, and I looked left to the bathroom and saw down that little hallway and through the door that the room I was standing in was there too. But I didn't see myself. I didn't particularly take any notice of this. I stood by the front door and looked out and saw that it looked like there was some work being done. There was something big by the door, pushed in front of it just enough that it blocked the door closing. It looked like rough wood, like maybe a big wooden crate, or the rough back of a large cabinet. On the floor was one of those little wooden boards on wheels people use to wheel themselves under cars. I stepped out of the door, and found myself facing the room I'd just left, and I saw those things I'd seen outside were inside now. I turned around and stepped forward as if to walk through an invisible door behind me, and ended up inside the apartment again, with all of the stuff back outside. I stepped back towards the center of the room, and about there is where I decided to hang up and the dream ended.
The whole thing was totally surreal, and very vivid. I still remember it more clearly than most of my dreams after waking.
I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to get back to sleep.
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