May 2006 Archives

I'm starting to get the impression that while most people's subconsious is filled with deep dark neurosese, mine is filled with confidence. At least as manifest in dreams.

Naked in public? Eh, no big deal, though I hope I don't get sunburned. The fact that I'm giving a presentation while naked, at least it'll be memorable.

Have to sing kareoke? I love singing. To a song I don't know? Whee.

I do still have nightmares about forgetting to attend a class until the final and desperately needing it to graduate so I guess it's not entirely confident. And the dream that made me think of this anew sort of combined all three.

Ahh, I love my body, whenever it decides to fix itself it does so immediately and forcefully. I'm trying to fall asleep last night at a little past midnight:

Body: hey, wake up, I'm hungry now.
Me: wha? now? alright alright.
** Get up, eat a bowl of cereal **
Me: Now can I go to sleep?
Body: Ha, dream on emo boy - keep eating.

Six bowls of cereal, a bannana, some strawberries, cheese and crackers later I was finally allowed to fall asleep - though still somewhat hungry. Go team metabolism. I am sort of sick of my cereal now though.

When I get buyers remorse I tend to feel it in my stomach. When I bought my four figure digital camera my stomach churned for about a half hour. Well it's finally hit home that I just spent about 200 times that amount on a house, so I don't have much of an appetite right now. My mind is busy trying to compensate, whispering "you could always just sell it and rent again". Yeah, thanks mind, real helpful there.

Of course in actuality I've owned the house for almost a month now, it's just that having finally moved in here it feels a little more "purchased". Don't ask me why, it's just the way it is.

Buyers remose isn't the only thing that feeds the old rumbly tummy. Stress - oh, did I mention I was offered a promotion, but no pressure to accept it if I don't want to go the management route. Sadness - yeah, I'm not taking my recent breakup as jovially as initially let on, and the only remedy (taking a break from the scene) isn't something you can speed along. Anxiety - Did the water look that color when I inspected the house? Etc, etc.

It's all mostly managable now - though I haven't exactly eaten a lot lately - but man, one more thing (addie missing, car stolen, whatever) and I'd have to have Dr. Jeni fedex me some IVs.

Karmic payback is a bitch. I ended my last serious relationship a while ago because while I loved many things about her, I knew there was something that wasn't going to work long term and I felt it was better to go through the pain now and let us both move forward. Well you can all probably guess where this is going. I got to be on the receiving end this time, and while it was a much shorter gig (only a month) it still pretty well sucks.

The thing is, I can't really fault her. And I had the sneaking suspision that my love of the 80's and crappy movies and her.. well not.. were indicators of deeper incompatibilites. But any way, the long and short of it is that I am recently single again. Like hours recently, but whatever.

I did learn something good though. I'd noticed a while ago that I think I may have been guarding myself somewhat in relationships, can't get too hurt if you're not too attached kind of thing, and I'd made a resolve to change that. Well I did here, and I had a lot of fun, and it really really sucked when it ended, but it also sucked in that particularly paradoxical way that makes you feel kind of good because you've got strong emotions running through you. Makes you feel alive and all that jazz.

A little confused, yes. Sad, definately. But life rolls on. Monica - incredible friend that she is - has already begun forwarding me new prospects. If nothing else, I know that moni's got my back :)

I've been assaulted twice recently by two overwhelming ironic situations. At least I think it's irony - I've always had trouble with my metal-ies.

Situation 1, hereafter referred to as the sublte one. Man standing outside a store in a tight fitting grey Kenith Cole shirt. The height of style, the man is overweight (an inch of visible gut) and the shirt has grease stains on it. Perhaps not ironic, maybe I'm just an elitist asshole.

Situation 2, driving home today I'm behind a Hummer H3. Big black box of testosterone extension. The liscense plate? "SZMTRS". Size matters. Wow, just wow. Sadly I did not get to see who the driver was.

My writing has been officially critiqued. My infrequent putting of pen to parchment has been lauded as "Every Day" and "Pedestrian"! Go me.

The way I see it I have two choices, well three if I count the impracticle one. Impracticle: Quit my job, travel around the world and write many interesting things with great regularity. Undesirable: Start writing about everything. what I had for breakfast today (oatmeal and strawberries) and whether I thought the pediatrician was cute (I do). I could include lots of smilies and bitch about my coworkers. I'm thinking I'm not going to go that route - unless you lot really want to hear about oatmeal. That pretty much leaves option 3, or "Lazy": Continue to write whatever the hell I want and just resign myself to doing it fairly infrequently until interesting things happen.

Interesting things that have happened recently: I bought a house, I drank oil, I saw the ballard locks for the first time, I learned to throw not like a pansy (thanks pat).