Rough Patch

I never like talking about my personal problems on here because it seems more a cry for help than just putting words to (digital) paper and get past it. There's always the option to just keep a journal and not share it with anybody but myself, but isn't that pretty much the same as bottling it all up?

For the last month or so I've just had this depression creeping up on me. It started when it began to get colder at night essentially signaling the end of Summer. I didn't do nearly as much as I had wanted to because I was too worried about wasting my time. It was my Summer vacation! I was supposed to be playing my backlog of video games, watching my backlog of anime and writing every spare minute I had. That didn't happen.

I had a great time on my vacation to Missouri, but I'm kicking myself for not having brought a camera with me. The memories are still fresh and I don't think they'll ever really fade away. Still, it's always nice to look at pictures.

I thought that getting the money for going to college would cheer me up. When that didn't really work I thought for sure that my classes would be engaging and really exciting. They are, but I'm so worried that I won't do well in them that it's sucking out any joy I have for them.

It's really annoying.

I'm also just very lonely. I don't have anybody to really hang out with besides at work. A girlfriend seems to be either impossible or entirely out of the question. I don't know how many times I've heard how great a guy I am and how any girl would be lucky to have me.

Sorry, but I can't stand not having bits of humor in everything. Yes that includes depressing posts about being depressed. And that second owl pic is just freaking hilarious.

Back on topic.

Yeah, I'm just getting really sick of taking a step forward only to find it hasn't gotten me any farther ahead. I'm under the impression that if I had a girlfriend then the pieces I've gathered would suddenly find their places. Maybe if I could get a list of references together of all the girls who've told me how great I am... yeah, no.

I'm not happy. I want to do something about it but everything I've tried lately has failed. Is a victory too much to ask for?

Going back to school. Again!

Shifts In American Literature

Like music and art, literature reflects the many facets of life but it can offer a deeper, more intimate view from the stories told and poetry written. American literature at the turn of the 20th century showed a culture that was hopeful and saw the world in a positive light. Times had been tought before, but perseverance would always see people through to a better life. When the Great War broke out in 1914, America was on the sidelines watching the events unfold. While the literature still adhered to typical structure and subjects, it was undoubtedly heading for a change.

My American Literature professor wrote 'Nice intro' right below that. I was really happy to see that. Especially because of how long it took me to get the right words out for it. It was hard, but it was incredibly rewarding once I'd gotten out the 3 1/2 (I tried pasting a proper 1/2 symbol on here from Word, and I got a five page long error. wow.) pages and turned it in. There were a few other encouraging notes left on the sides and margins as well.

I start school again tomorrow, and while I'm nervous about going back I have a lot more confidence in myself than when I went back last fall.

I'll be taking Japanese, Social Psychology and Cultural Anthropology. I've had my Cultural Anthropology professor twice before so it'll be kind of like going back to an old friend. My other two classes are complete unknowns to me, and I couldn't be more excited for them. So maybe I'm not nervous.

No. I'm nervous :)

And in the end...

Before

We will always wish to go back to before.

It was better then. It was safer and nothing went wrong.

Unfortunately, going back to before also means losing what has gone right in our lives. No matter what may go wrong, it is never worth giving up our 'now' and especially our 'later.'

random comedy bits

(In generic mobster accents)
Tony: Alright, so that's the plan. It's perfect. Like a working clock.
Johnny: Don't you mean "like clockwork?
Tony: Is that semantics I hear Johnny? Splittin' hairs? Pickin' nits?
Johnny: ...don't you mean "nitpicking"?
Tony: That's it. You're dead.

Jacob: Cool. We'll all meet up tonight around anti-noon.
Tim: You mean midnight?
Jacob: Why, what did I say?
Tim: Anti-noon-:smack:
Jacob: Exactly!

Kid Rock issued a press release the other day. Apparently, after years of a severe lack of creativity, he has run out of ways to rip off Lynyrd Skynyrd songs. He will now start ripping off artists that have themselves ripped off Lynyrd Skynyrd. The first song of his to reflect this change will be "All Next Summer Long" with a chorus of "-singin' "Werewolves of London" all summer long"

I have impeccably bad timing. You could set your broken watch to me.

(In a smarmy, fast talking door to door salesman/agent accent)
"I gotta tell ya kid, these are great! Y'put the spicy salt on the fries and made 'em all spicy. They're just great! They're spicy, they're fries, what do ya call 'em kid? Wait! I got it! We'll call 'em Spicy Fries! The marketing practically writes itself! We'll sell a million of 'em kid, no doubt!

(This actually happened)
(Banquets Manager) Julie: Oh, I see you got your ears lowered.
(My Boss) Brandon: I did.
(Me) Kelly: He got his hair cut too. I'm surprised you didn't notice that first.

I am in an alarmingly bad mood. I'd say somewhere between 'rip off your head' and 'rip off your head and do something unspeakable to it'.

Brandon: Kelly, you can't put N/A for "Interacts with People"

Brandon: Kelly, are you grumpy?
Kelly: Right now?
Brandon: Well, have you been grumpy lately?
Kelly: I'm guessing that since you've asked me into your office and shut the door the answer to that should be "Yes."
Brandon: It's just that some of the banquet people have been saying that you've been snappy at them.
Kelly: I could see that yeah.
Brandon: Yeah. Look, I know it can get really annoying sometimes. Hell, just today Mike and I went into the walk-in to cool down and scream. I'm just saying maybe you should try that too.
Kelly: Okay. But, are they aware that they're the reason I'm grumpy and snappy at them?
Brandon: Haha, yeah, that's a good one.

This is funny with my friends and I at work. Whether or not it's funny beyond that is of little concern to me :)

Was that bad? Should I not have done that?

I don't like horror movies.

Well, I guess it would be more accurate to say that I'm not a fan of horror movies.

I'm just not interested in watching people die in horrible or bizarre ways. I admit there's a slight fascination in finding out why those people are being brutally murdered;

• Rampaging, pseudo-immortal psychopaths bent on revenge.

• Ancient spirits pissed that a bunch of snot nosed valley kids are throwing a kegger in their dilapidated mansion.

• Asylum escapees dressed as clowns doing... whatever asylum escapees dressed as clowns do. Which is murdering people, apparently.

The possibilities are endless to be sure. Not that I'd rent one, watch the first 20 minutes (to see the "why") and the last five (to see who made it), but that would probably be the best option for me.

Until I saw the previews for Sorority Row. I don't think I would have any problem watching any of those horrible, stuck up, slutty whores being murdered in any of the myriad of ways horrible, stuck up, slutty whores can be murdered. I have absolutely no sympathy for any of them.

For those not in the know, the movie is about a group of sorority sisters that decide to play a prank on one of their cheating boyfriends by faking the sister's death while she's making out with him. The prank gets as far as the quarry where they're going to bury her, when suddenly (for absolutely no reason if the previews are to be believed) the boyfriend impales his "dead" girlfriend with a tire iron.

They freak out, dump the body, and vow never to speak of it again. That's vow. Not swear, not pledge, not even pinky swear! So you know how serious they are about vowing never to speak of it again.

Suddenly, a hooded figure shows up the night of their graduation, complete with a modified tire iron (oh symbolism, you subtle fiend. have you no shame?), and starts murdering all the sisters.

Oh no, the little Asian girl who takes off her bikini top because a guy looks at her is being hauled away to her doom. Dear me, the drunk is dying an ironic death. Now the consummate leader bitch is daring the killer to, well, kill her. Yeah, reverse psychology. That always works with vindictive vengeance seekers.

Is that bad? Should I feel sorry for these girls? I don't think so. None of them seem to have any inherent value and would only serve to further clog up the world with little murder concealing whorettes.

That may be a bit harsh, but when the characters are painted in such an unsympathetic light, it's really hard to drum up any kind of sympathy for them. Incredible as that may seem.

100 Bananas

I remember that the helicopters were really loud. Which struck me as odd because the old rumor was that they ran silent. The American and Soviet ones that is. Other countries didn't have a reason for anything as excessive as that. With how loud the damn thing was it would take an over-budget superpower locked in a preemptive arms race to silence it.

Anyway, it wouldn't have been so bad had the whole fleet of them not decided to fly so low and directly over my banana plantation; it ruffled them up, but not much else. The question of why they were there didn't really pop into my head until after I'd finished screaming at them. They weren't marked in any way, so I couldn't jump to any conclusions. I also couldn't think of any reason why they would come to this nameless spot of an island. The banana market was already cornered here, thanks to yours truly, so that was out of the question.

Then again, I didn't have access to obnoxiously loud helicopters. Helicopters that happened to be carrying equal parts soldiers and bureaucrats. It was the Soviets. We were their weak last gasp at survival in a quickly evaporating Cold War.

This is me talking now, and this is actually my 100th post. That's just an excerpt from my latest story idea imagined up from the word 'banana.' I started writing it two hours ago and I'm happy with what I've got. Sort of like my posts on here.

I didn't reach 100 quickly, and I'm fine with it having taken this long to do so. I don't put my fingers to the keyboard lightly you could say. It could also be seen as a benefit of procrastination, in that I don't jump in with reckless abandon.

There's been a lot I've wanted to write about on here but I could just never wring out the words I needed to get them on the screen.

Like the massive migration of people to the fairgrounds for the last week of summer vacation, and how I would race the buses on my bike as they went past the huge park next to Eastgate Elementary.

Or what I thought of heaven when I was younger. If they didn't have dodgeball up there then I wouldn't be too terribly interested. Seriously. The perfect happiness and harmony is great, but you can't tell me there wouldn't be others up for a dodgeball tournament.

I even came close to doing another 'about me' kind of blog entry. Those are always fun to do and paint an amusing and fairly accurate portrait of my eccentricities, idiosyncrasies and what makes me me.

I guess I can always get around to those in time.