Man, my family is exciting. My father spent most of the day sleeping on the couch and my mother watching dumb stuff on TLC. Me? I bought face paint.
So it's December 29. When did that happen? I saw someone mention that in four days, we'll be back in Athens. And you know, that never really hit me. I had thought about it (sort of), but not like that. Now it's, "Holy crap!" It's not that I don't want to go to Athens, but dang, it's almost catching me by surprise.
There are, of course, things I am very much looking forward to and anticipating in the upcoming quarter. Naturally, basketball season has me seriously pumped. I'm taking a slate of classes that I think I will enjoy. Heck, I'll even have a car. Yes, thanks to Ashley's woeful grades last semester, I'm getting the Escape. Wee! I'm getting the beds debunked, so maybe I can actually get a decent night's sleep. I'm also bringing down a few items to make the place feel a little homier for me. And last (but certainly not least), I have in my possession a George Foreman grill. Oh yeah.
But there are things that concern me. A certain girl could make things more difficult than they need to be. Mind you, she shouldn't, and I really see no reason why she should. But it's still something I'm scared of. For good reason? I don't know. It's just not something I'm doing a good job dealing with, and I don't even know why! It's all very strange. But... whatever. If she's going to pull crap, I'll deal with it somehow. I have more important things to worry about than her.
One such thing is me inching closer and closer to graduation. And there's two things with that: I don't know what I'm doing come June. I really have no idea. People ask, and I have nothing to tell them. I have things I want to do, but I don't have anything I'm going to do. Plus, there's the very real fear for me that I'm going to fail. I'm terrified of myself. I don't think I can do this. I've convinced myself I'm going to let everyone down, that I'm going to fall flat on my face (if I haven't already yet and just haven't realized it).
And if I may digress for a moment, this is part of the reason I'm convinced I can't make anything work with women. I feel like I bring nothing palpable to the table, and I'm far too dependent. I need it, yet nobody in their right mind would take someone as screwed up as me. These are things I actually think about on a constant basis. This is why they always bail after a few weeks. They start to see the truth. Welcome to manic depression.
I suppose it's not all gloom and doom. There is tomorrow's game against UC tomorrow at The Q. That should be fun (especially if we win).
I don't know. Everything is either coming together or falling apart. I just can't tell which. It would be a big boost to me, though, if Jessica enjoys what I sent her earlier this week.
14.12.06
I Hate Christmas?
Wow, it's been a month? Sorry about that. Anyway... Despite the May-like temperatures here in Twinsburg, Christmas season is upon us like Shasta on a dropped pepperoni. We all know what that means: Christmas lights, increases in suicide attempts, awkward office parties, Egg Nog, conversations about how toys were better when we were kids, and people regularly casting aspersions upon me because I "hate" Christmas.
That, of course, is silly. If something involves Jesus, I'm for it, generally speaking. To borrow from Allen Iverson, "We're not talking about Jesus. We're not talking about Jesus. We're talking about Christmas. Christmas?" I just don't go along with the American Christmas culture. For some, that means I hate the holiday. So be it, but I like to see myself as a critical thinker and I'm going to question and reject some of the commonly-held notions of the holiday.
So in that vein, here's my views on Christmas:
- I don't like getting beaten over the head with things, and I don't like being told what is the "correct" way to do something. If you know me, you know I lash out at that when it happens to me. Now that the holiday is starting to encroach on Halloween, it's simply too much. It's overwhelming. And the people that tell me how I ought to embrace the so-called Christmas spirit and celebrate it the same way they do... shut up. Just because it means something different to me than it does to you does not mean you're "better" at it than I am. Get over yourself.
- Sorry, but December 25 is not Jesus' birthday. The holiday is celebrated when it is because the Catholic church put it there to compete with a popular pagan festival. I don't have a problem with that, but facts are facts. "Well, don't you want to celebrate the birth of the Savior?" Of course I do, but I don't need a specific date to do it, and I don't know why you do, either. Aren't we supposed to revere Him 365(6) days a year? You don't get extra credit for Christmas. It just fits into the social mores of our culture that we loooove our birthdays. Besides, the birth itself isn't quite as important as the death, the resurrection, or the ascension. So why isn't Easter given the same treatment?
- I don't hate Christmas music. I really don't. However, I'm not going to like said music just because it's Christmas. That philosophy applies to everything, by the way. I don't like poop more just because it came from Shasta instead of a deer. There is some really, really good Christmas music out there. The Charlie Brown Christmas album and Trans-Siberian Orchestra spring to mind immediately. I could listen to that all year. The problem... well, there's two problems. The first is that for many years, my house was playing the Harry Connick Jr. Christmas CD on a constant loop, which is ear-bleeding bad. That's not going to make someone like Christmas music. The second is that you have the same 15 songs being played, except there's 500 different versions of them that really aren't different at all. Remember what I said about being beaten over the head? The original versions of many of those songs are still the best and still fantastic. Give me those, and throw the rest out. No, we don't need A Britney Spears Christmas. Spare me.
- The Christmas specials. Please, stop. It's too much. I get it: Some guy is a high-powered whatever who is making money at the cost of his family. Something happens and he realizes the importance of his family and that the money really doesn't matter. Great. Now stop making 10 movies with that theme. Just like the music, it's all recycled crap. Give me something original, please. Isn't this a wonderful holiday? Can't we think of something new? As terrible a movie as "Love Actually" is, at least it did something different with the Christmas theme. I'll give it that much. There's a reason everyone watches "A Charlie Brown Christmas," "It's a Wonderful Life," "A Christmas Story," and the Patrick Stewart-led "A Christmas Carol" over and over (and for those of us that know enough, "Scrooged."): They're good movies or TV. They're enjoyable, and they happen to work the Christmas theme in. Even if it was about, say, a rodeo, they would probably still be good.
- Christmas decorations... this can go either way. If you haven't seen that awesome display from last year, just search for "Christmas lights" on YouTube. It's amazing. The thing here is that... it seems like people are trying to prove they have more "Christmas" spirit by throwing up more decorations than their neighbor. That sort of thing annoys me. Plus, it's really bothersome when someone's porch is filled with crap and you're trying to drop off a package. It's just like throwing on a sweater with trees on it just to show everyone else how into it you are. I guess I just don't like posers.
- Gift giving. I'll skip the whole consumer corporate culture thing. We all know that story. On my mom's side of the family, we do a secret Santa thing. Everyone knows how it works. The part that bothers me is that these are people I see once or twice a year, so when I get it, it doesn't really mean anything. I'm required to provide a list. All that's happening is that somebody is choosing something from my list (and is under the $25 limit), and I'm doing the same. We hand it to each other, essentially just buying something for someone when we all could have gotten it for ourselves and saved time. The actual exchange of the gifts is meaningless. It's a soulless procedure.
Really, I don't like the concept of a Christmas list. If you have to ask me what I want, you don't really know me. You're just doing the legwork and I'm doing the thinking for you. If I want something bad enough, I'll get it myself. So there isn't anything come Christmastime I'm uber-excited about getting. That means, then, I want to be surprised. I want you to put some thought and effort into the process. I want it to mean something. Nothing means more to me than something I never thought of but you did.
I never ask someone what they want for Christmas. And if they tell me what they want, they're less likely to get it from me. I go out and I think and I look at stuff. I get it if it speaks to me and I think it is something that would resonate with the person. You never know what you're getting from me! Isn't that how it should be? Gifts from me are the end of a process and something that means something. It demonstrates I know you and I care.
I *love* giving gifts and frankly, I couldn't care much less about getting any in return. The greatest thing ever is a person saying, "Wow, that's really cool" to something I gave them. And that's the greatest present I could ask for (cheesy music).
- So there's this movie coming out, "Unaccompanied Minors." Apparently they get stuck in an airport overnight by themselves or something... I don't know. But the trailer promises that they will learn "the true meaning of Christmas." I will bet cash money that this meaning has absolutely nothing to do with Jesus Christ. And guess what? THAT IS NOT THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS. JESUS IS THE MEANING. I'm sure you've heard "the reason for the season." Well guess what? It's true. Christmas without Jesus (Christ, you know, as in Christmas) is like the 4th of July without the Constitution. It means nothing.
People are especially giving and generous this time of year (allegedly), which is great. But too many people are giving at Christmas and not the rest of the year. Charities have all they can handle at Christmas and not the rest of the year. This "true meaning" of Christmas should apply to the rest of the year. That's what it's really about. Somewhere, we lost that.
Also, I hate Santa Claus. I've been killed for this (especially by the future Mrs. Brownrigg), but I'm not afraid to say it. I wish he would go away. In fact, I'm resolved not to do this to my children. I have two thoughts on this:
1. I don't know why I get grief for choosing not to participate in institutional lying to kids.
2. It all goes back to the whole "reason for the season" thing. We're teaching kids Christmas is about getting presents and being good for rewards, not because of Jesus and the joy of giving (or being good because you're a kid and that's your only freaking job). In essence, we're teaching them the wrong things. I refuse to be a party to that. I will fail my future kids in enough ways anyway.
I think that's it. I hope that clears some things up and that you've thought about what I said here. My goal wasn't to try to persuade, just to establish my position on the matter.
That, of course, is silly. If something involves Jesus, I'm for it, generally speaking. To borrow from Allen Iverson, "We're not talking about Jesus. We're not talking about Jesus. We're talking about Christmas. Christmas?" I just don't go along with the American Christmas culture. For some, that means I hate the holiday. So be it, but I like to see myself as a critical thinker and I'm going to question and reject some of the commonly-held notions of the holiday.
So in that vein, here's my views on Christmas:
- I don't like getting beaten over the head with things, and I don't like being told what is the "correct" way to do something. If you know me, you know I lash out at that when it happens to me. Now that the holiday is starting to encroach on Halloween, it's simply too much. It's overwhelming. And the people that tell me how I ought to embrace the so-called Christmas spirit and celebrate it the same way they do... shut up. Just because it means something different to me than it does to you does not mean you're "better" at it than I am. Get over yourself.
- Sorry, but December 25 is not Jesus' birthday. The holiday is celebrated when it is because the Catholic church put it there to compete with a popular pagan festival. I don't have a problem with that, but facts are facts. "Well, don't you want to celebrate the birth of the Savior?" Of course I do, but I don't need a specific date to do it, and I don't know why you do, either. Aren't we supposed to revere Him 365(6) days a year? You don't get extra credit for Christmas. It just fits into the social mores of our culture that we loooove our birthdays. Besides, the birth itself isn't quite as important as the death, the resurrection, or the ascension. So why isn't Easter given the same treatment?
- I don't hate Christmas music. I really don't. However, I'm not going to like said music just because it's Christmas. That philosophy applies to everything, by the way. I don't like poop more just because it came from Shasta instead of a deer. There is some really, really good Christmas music out there. The Charlie Brown Christmas album and Trans-Siberian Orchestra spring to mind immediately. I could listen to that all year. The problem... well, there's two problems. The first is that for many years, my house was playing the Harry Connick Jr. Christmas CD on a constant loop, which is ear-bleeding bad. That's not going to make someone like Christmas music. The second is that you have the same 15 songs being played, except there's 500 different versions of them that really aren't different at all. Remember what I said about being beaten over the head? The original versions of many of those songs are still the best and still fantastic. Give me those, and throw the rest out. No, we don't need A Britney Spears Christmas. Spare me.
- The Christmas specials. Please, stop. It's too much. I get it: Some guy is a high-powered whatever who is making money at the cost of his family. Something happens and he realizes the importance of his family and that the money really doesn't matter. Great. Now stop making 10 movies with that theme. Just like the music, it's all recycled crap. Give me something original, please. Isn't this a wonderful holiday? Can't we think of something new? As terrible a movie as "Love Actually" is, at least it did something different with the Christmas theme. I'll give it that much. There's a reason everyone watches "A Charlie Brown Christmas," "It's a Wonderful Life," "A Christmas Story," and the Patrick Stewart-led "A Christmas Carol" over and over (and for those of us that know enough, "Scrooged."): They're good movies or TV. They're enjoyable, and they happen to work the Christmas theme in. Even if it was about, say, a rodeo, they would probably still be good.
- Christmas decorations... this can go either way. If you haven't seen that awesome display from last year, just search for "Christmas lights" on YouTube. It's amazing. The thing here is that... it seems like people are trying to prove they have more "Christmas" spirit by throwing up more decorations than their neighbor. That sort of thing annoys me. Plus, it's really bothersome when someone's porch is filled with crap and you're trying to drop off a package. It's just like throwing on a sweater with trees on it just to show everyone else how into it you are. I guess I just don't like posers.
- Gift giving. I'll skip the whole consumer corporate culture thing. We all know that story. On my mom's side of the family, we do a secret Santa thing. Everyone knows how it works. The part that bothers me is that these are people I see once or twice a year, so when I get it, it doesn't really mean anything. I'm required to provide a list. All that's happening is that somebody is choosing something from my list (and is under the $25 limit), and I'm doing the same. We hand it to each other, essentially just buying something for someone when we all could have gotten it for ourselves and saved time. The actual exchange of the gifts is meaningless. It's a soulless procedure.
Really, I don't like the concept of a Christmas list. If you have to ask me what I want, you don't really know me. You're just doing the legwork and I'm doing the thinking for you. If I want something bad enough, I'll get it myself. So there isn't anything come Christmastime I'm uber-excited about getting. That means, then, I want to be surprised. I want you to put some thought and effort into the process. I want it to mean something. Nothing means more to me than something I never thought of but you did.
I never ask someone what they want for Christmas. And if they tell me what they want, they're less likely to get it from me. I go out and I think and I look at stuff. I get it if it speaks to me and I think it is something that would resonate with the person. You never know what you're getting from me! Isn't that how it should be? Gifts from me are the end of a process and something that means something. It demonstrates I know you and I care.
I *love* giving gifts and frankly, I couldn't care much less about getting any in return. The greatest thing ever is a person saying, "Wow, that's really cool" to something I gave them. And that's the greatest present I could ask for (cheesy music).
- So there's this movie coming out, "Unaccompanied Minors." Apparently they get stuck in an airport overnight by themselves or something... I don't know. But the trailer promises that they will learn "the true meaning of Christmas." I will bet cash money that this meaning has absolutely nothing to do with Jesus Christ. And guess what? THAT IS NOT THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS. JESUS IS THE MEANING. I'm sure you've heard "the reason for the season." Well guess what? It's true. Christmas without Jesus (Christ, you know, as in Christmas) is like the 4th of July without the Constitution. It means nothing.
People are especially giving and generous this time of year (allegedly), which is great. But too many people are giving at Christmas and not the rest of the year. Charities have all they can handle at Christmas and not the rest of the year. This "true meaning" of Christmas should apply to the rest of the year. That's what it's really about. Somewhere, we lost that.
Also, I hate Santa Claus. I've been killed for this (especially by the future Mrs. Brownrigg), but I'm not afraid to say it. I wish he would go away. In fact, I'm resolved not to do this to my children. I have two thoughts on this:
1. I don't know why I get grief for choosing not to participate in institutional lying to kids.
2. It all goes back to the whole "reason for the season" thing. We're teaching kids Christmas is about getting presents and being good for rewards, not because of Jesus and the joy of giving (or being good because you're a kid and that's your only freaking job). In essence, we're teaching them the wrong things. I refuse to be a party to that. I will fail my future kids in enough ways anyway.
I think that's it. I hope that clears some things up and that you've thought about what I said here. My goal wasn't to try to persuade, just to establish my position on the matter.
14.11.06
The Princess and the Wench
I feel almost schizophrenic (I spelled it right on the first try. I'm awesome) these days. On one hand, I have a lot of fun stuff going on... I should be feeling mostly good about things. But then I have the whole other thing that manages to get to me just about every day. And I'm pretty sure I have classes I have to go to as well.
And in the process of writing this, I just got pushed over the edge. But I'll start at the beginning, as most people not named Faulkner do.
It occurred to me the other day that it was stupid for me to keep pining for Carolyn. And there's a very simple reason for it: She's changed. I don't know why, but it's almost like she left and a clone took her place. And in the past couple weeks, she's called me desperate, obsessive, insincere, pathetic, and came this close to calling me a stalker. Of course, she didn't actually use those words, but the message was clear. So I realized, why was I holding onto feelings for someone that's treating me like dirt? I don't deserve that. If this her idea of friendship, I'm not interested. This, of course, is when she's not ignoring me or pretending I'm not there.
Today, though, was the tipping point. You can look at my Facebook wall for the exact words, but she said the white board on my door is filled with "mindless smut" that pollutes her mind. Here is what was on it: a quote from "Friends" ("Ross, you're not an idiot, you're a guy in love." "Same difference."), a note from Kaitlin saying "that's awesome!", a blurb saying Monty is a door decorator attacker, a quote from The Simpsons ("He calls out his bowling ball's name when we're making love!"), and a drawing of a crown and a pronouncement that the king of grammar lives here. This hardly the stuff of Hustler. But this was completely unprovoked and entirely public.
I'm sorry, Carolyn, but who do you think you are? What right do you have to say these things to me? We're not dating. You don't get to comment on my actions like that. This is exactly the kind of thing that's been happening the last month or so. She searches and waits for me to make a mistake (real or perceived) and when I do so, she attacks it with the ferocity of a tiger shark. It's like she's going out of her way to tell me how terrible I am, what my flaws are. From what I can tell, she doesn't do this to anyone else. Right now, she's just being mean. One time, she told me she hates drama and doesn't like conniving women. Well, Miss Miller, that's exactly what you're doing right now.
It's almost tragic. The girl I've written about, the girl I had been dreaming about... this isn't her. It's like after Wal-Mart, she flipped a switch and set it to "cruel." I don't know why. Aside from my anger, I'm so confused. There are so many answers I want. There's so little I know. In her eyes, I can only do grave wrong right now, whether or not it actually involves her.
The girl I thought a knew? She was a princess. She was special. She was worth whatever obstacle I had to overcome. This girl? She's just a wench, and I'd think twice before offering her a hand if she fell in the mud.
So badly, I want to throw it back at her. More than anything, I want to show her what she's been doing to me, embarrass her and hurt her. But I won't. This time, I'm going to take the high road. But I want an apology from her. I want an explanation. I'm an easy person. If she wants a friendship, the door is open, and I will welcome her warmly. It's all on her right now. I'm going to be the one to make the move, though. I've gotten burned by her too many times to know better.
And in the process of writing this, I just got pushed over the edge. But I'll start at the beginning, as most people not named Faulkner do.
It occurred to me the other day that it was stupid for me to keep pining for Carolyn. And there's a very simple reason for it: She's changed. I don't know why, but it's almost like she left and a clone took her place. And in the past couple weeks, she's called me desperate, obsessive, insincere, pathetic, and came this close to calling me a stalker. Of course, she didn't actually use those words, but the message was clear. So I realized, why was I holding onto feelings for someone that's treating me like dirt? I don't deserve that. If this her idea of friendship, I'm not interested. This, of course, is when she's not ignoring me or pretending I'm not there.
Today, though, was the tipping point. You can look at my Facebook wall for the exact words, but she said the white board on my door is filled with "mindless smut" that pollutes her mind. Here is what was on it: a quote from "Friends" ("Ross, you're not an idiot, you're a guy in love." "Same difference."), a note from Kaitlin saying "that's awesome!", a blurb saying Monty is a door decorator attacker, a quote from The Simpsons ("He calls out his bowling ball's name when we're making love!"), and a drawing of a crown and a pronouncement that the king of grammar lives here. This hardly the stuff of Hustler. But this was completely unprovoked and entirely public.
I'm sorry, Carolyn, but who do you think you are? What right do you have to say these things to me? We're not dating. You don't get to comment on my actions like that. This is exactly the kind of thing that's been happening the last month or so. She searches and waits for me to make a mistake (real or perceived) and when I do so, she attacks it with the ferocity of a tiger shark. It's like she's going out of her way to tell me how terrible I am, what my flaws are. From what I can tell, she doesn't do this to anyone else. Right now, she's just being mean. One time, she told me she hates drama and doesn't like conniving women. Well, Miss Miller, that's exactly what you're doing right now.
It's almost tragic. The girl I've written about, the girl I had been dreaming about... this isn't her. It's like after Wal-Mart, she flipped a switch and set it to "cruel." I don't know why. Aside from my anger, I'm so confused. There are so many answers I want. There's so little I know. In her eyes, I can only do grave wrong right now, whether or not it actually involves her.
The girl I thought a knew? She was a princess. She was special. She was worth whatever obstacle I had to overcome. This girl? She's just a wench, and I'd think twice before offering her a hand if she fell in the mud.
So badly, I want to throw it back at her. More than anything, I want to show her what she's been doing to me, embarrass her and hurt her. But I won't. This time, I'm going to take the high road. But I want an apology from her. I want an explanation. I'm an easy person. If she wants a friendship, the door is open, and I will welcome her warmly. It's all on her right now. I'm going to be the one to make the move, though. I've gotten burned by her too many times to know better.
8.11.06
Actually... Not
(Note: There are movie spoilers in this post.)
I had seen all the critical raves (Roeper liked it, which is telling). It did fairly well in the box office here in America. Women swoon all over themselves about it. And now, I have seen Love Actually twice. Let me tell you friends, there are romantic movies that leave with an uplifted sense of life and the human condition, semi-satisfying movies that don't really leave an impression but are fun and digestible, forgettable and far-fetched yawners, and movies that insult the concept of romance in the first place.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind stands out as a shining beacon for the first category. I could name a hundred examples of the next two. Love Actually threatens to proudly carry the banner for the last category. I can't remember the last time I saw a romantic movie that actually made me angry, but this one pulled it off.
Now, there are a couple interesting story lines that I followed with a genuine sense of caring, such as Alan Rickman's will-I-or-won't-I affair and Laura Linney's quiet longing for her co-worker. Those are fine. In fact, if the movie was just about those two things, it would be a decent film. No. They had to throw in a barrel full of other stupid ones as well. I will illustrate:
Of course, if some of this happened in real life, would these women find it so charming? Unlikely. In fact, some of this behavior is decidedly stalkerish. We make allowances because it's a movie, and that's fine. But if you want to give me love, I expect some sort of exploration of it, not just superficial kisses and throwaway scenes and concepts. Give me something I can sink my teeth into. Give me something to aspire to, something to relate to. Give me reason to believe. That is why Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is so excellent. We see it all. Their relationship is naked for us to explore. Nothing is hidden. We understand what makes their love go. Their experience is shared with us. Love Actually gives us no experience, just the candy. The candy is nice, but I want to know who is giving it to me and why.
I had seen all the critical raves (Roeper liked it, which is telling). It did fairly well in the box office here in America. Women swoon all over themselves about it. And now, I have seen Love Actually twice. Let me tell you friends, there are romantic movies that leave with an uplifted sense of life and the human condition, semi-satisfying movies that don't really leave an impression but are fun and digestible, forgettable and far-fetched yawners, and movies that insult the concept of romance in the first place.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind stands out as a shining beacon for the first category. I could name a hundred examples of the next two. Love Actually threatens to proudly carry the banner for the last category. I can't remember the last time I saw a romantic movie that actually made me angry, but this one pulled it off.
Now, there are a couple interesting story lines that I followed with a genuine sense of caring, such as Alan Rickman's will-I-or-won't-I affair and Laura Linney's quiet longing for her co-worker. Those are fine. In fact, if the movie was just about those two things, it would be a decent film. No. They had to throw in a barrel full of other stupid ones as well. I will illustrate:
- The storyline of Liam Neeson's kid who has apparently found the love of his life and learns to play the drums in an attempt to woo her. This is the least offensive of the stories, perhaps because the kid is so darn cute and Liam is charming in his role. But, come on- what father is going to tell his eight or nine-year-old kid he probably has found his soul mate? I didn't even know what my favorite kind of sandwich was at that age. It's madness. Not only that, he allows the little bugger to run around the airport like it's recess or something. He wouldn't be thrown in jail for that? And I don't know what it is about British movies having their kids swear. It's not cute. Maybe they do it for real, as the parents never seem to object.
- The sex scene stand-ins. This was just weird. They're simulating sex and flirting with each other? Huh? Wouldn't the director tell them to shut up? I know when a chick is pretending to perform fellatio on me, I'm going to ask her out. And they say chivalry is dead.
- Hugh Grant sure loves to pretend to be Prime Minister. This one had him lamenting his inability to land himself a woman (because we all know women just can't get with what Hugh Grant has to offer) and sort of, kind of flirting with a secretary in his office... house... thing. While Grant is awkwardly amusing as always, we never told why they were attracted to one another, just that they were. They never really had a conversation, and there's no reason to sympathize with Grant when he sees the president of the US (Billy Bob Thornton?!?) putting the moves on her. Not actually kissing her, just whispering in her ear. Apparently in England, that's like sleeping with her. Of course, she says in a Christmas card she's really his, which is a given, considering the 10 minutes of conversation they've shared before. Naturally, he goes bounding all over London, a small town if there ever was one, looking for her. And when he finds her, it's magical. The whole time, I don't think he even knew her last name. I guess that's not important.
- Ah, Colin Firth. King of the British romances. Or something. This movies has Colin as a writer who finds his wife cheating on him, so he takes a vacation to France (or Portugal- it's never actually said) and has a maid. This maid, of course, can't speak English, and he can't speak Portuguese. Somehow they're able to overcome this small obstacle and fall in love over the course of three weeks. She leaves him... for some reason (they don't say), and he resolves to learn Portuguese. He does so, flies to France (or Portugal- it's never actually said) and asks her to marry him. Um... what? OK, there may be a physical attraction. Fine. But don't you have to actually, uh, COMMUNICATE with one another to establish some sort of bond? They spend all their time together looking at each other weirdly and wondering what the other was saying. I'm supposed to believe this is the bedrock of love? All I have to do is walk up to a girl and look at her a certain way and speak in Wookie for a while? Furthermore, I've been led to believe such strong bonds take time to develop. And it requires, you know, the ability to talk to one another. How do they know anything about each other? It makes no sense. Zero. Of course, I've only known Carolyn about 11 weeks. Maybe that's a telling sign for me. I knew Kat for a year before I dated her, Megan four months or so, Lizz a couple weeks. I think there's a discernible pattern. Maybe not. It's late.
- This is the one that made me mad, and it started out the most innocently. Keira Knightley gets married to some guy, and his best friend, the best man at the wedding, isn't taking it well. People think that he simply doesn't care for her, but it later gets revealed to her that he actually loves her (she even points out that they never talked. Again, this apparently doesn't matter in England). So what does he do? Makes a series of signs telling her she's perfect and that he loves her. YOU DON'T DO THAT! A lot of girls think that's sweet. No. That is an ultimate betrayal of his (supposedly best) friend. I can't think of a worse way to stab him in the back. If I did that? I'd get gutted and rightfully so. So what does she do? Gives him a kiss. I feel bad for the husband. A fine wife and friend he has himself. Absolutely disgusting. That's right up there with The Village.
Of course, if some of this happened in real life, would these women find it so charming? Unlikely. In fact, some of this behavior is decidedly stalkerish. We make allowances because it's a movie, and that's fine. But if you want to give me love, I expect some sort of exploration of it, not just superficial kisses and throwaway scenes and concepts. Give me something I can sink my teeth into. Give me something to aspire to, something to relate to. Give me reason to believe. That is why Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is so excellent. We see it all. Their relationship is naked for us to explore. Nothing is hidden. We understand what makes their love go. Their experience is shared with us. Love Actually gives us no experience, just the candy. The candy is nice, but I want to know who is giving it to me and why.
The Times, They Are A-Changin'
ure, the Buckeyes helped lift Clinton to victories in 1992 and 1996, but the GOP has been running the state since Richard Celeste was term limited out of office 20 years ago. Tonight, though, that's changed. Ted Strickland beat the holy crap out of Ken Blackwell with nearly 60% of the vote today, giving the fiery Congressman the governor's seat. Sherrod Brown unseated career politician Mike DeWine in the Senate. Betty Montgomery, as popular a Republican there is in this state, lost in her bid for attorney general. In fact, the only major state-level race the Republicans won was the auditor race. It is indisputable now that Ohio is a blue state, all in one sweeping night. Remarkable, if you think about it.
It took nothing less than unmitigated disaster for the Republicans to lose their death grip on Ohio, of course. Bob Taft's approval ratings were historically low to the tune of 6% in March 2005. Six percent! Even six percent of women like me. That's not disapproval. That's hatred. Has anyone even seen him in the last two years? He might be dead. No one knows.
The people have handed the keys to the elephants; now it's their time to take them and start the engine. People are going to want results. If they don't get them, the Republicans are going to sweep right back into power. It is probably a good thing, then, that Strickland is the standard-bearer for the Democrats, as he is a no-nonsense man who pursues his agenda with a rabid, dogged determination. The Republicans look to have kept control of the General Assembly, so he's going to have to work on a bipartisan attitude, and that's not easy for him. His feud with Blackwell has been sizzling the past handful of years. He doesn't like the Republicans. They don't like him. It would not be surprising to see the GOP gridlock everything in an attempt to get him out in 2010.
Interestingly, more people more people voted for Issue 5 (smoke free) than for the governor's race. The economy and whatever is fine, but don't mess with people's lungs. That's not going to be tolerated around here. While I abstained from voting on the issue, I am happy it passed. Of course, the immediate 50 feet around restaurants and bars are going to suck to be around now.
Issue 2 passed. I'm stunned and delighted. More money for everyone! This is great. Of course, people will whine, "it hurts business!" Yeah, all those previous minimum wage increases really screwed everyone, didn't they? They didn't seem to mind raising prices and profits. It's about time we took some of it back. $6.85, baby!
Issue 3 failed, which is good. I am very much in favor of legalized gambling, but I want the money going to the people, not the casino owners. Give us a good profit sharing plan, and I'll support it.
Issue 4 failed. Anytime you can stick it to Big Tobacco, I'm happy. I really thought the confusion ruse would work. Kudos to the American Cancer Society for rolling out the war drums on this one.
7.11.06
Wearing the Crown of Grief
So at this point, I'm sitting around wondering what exactly happened. And I can't really say what or where things turned around, but they sure did quickly.
OK. Allow me to explain.
Carolyn and I had another blowout on Friday. Because it's been a few days since it happened, I might not be able to recall all of the details, but I'm not missing the main blow of what happened. It wasn't pretty.
The thesis of her argument/rant against me is that she feels like I'm not being platonic towards her. In fact, I think I'll use a list of the points she made:
I don't believe I've done anything especially egregious here. In fact, I've theorized she's channeling a lot of the stress and tension she's had this quarter at me, because everyone knows I'm not going to throw it back at her. A couple people agree that this is a possibility. I did get a message from her late apologizing, saying like she feels like it's all her fault, and all she wants is for me to be happy and it is frustrating for her that I'm not (of course, she can be directly blamed for some of that). Well... fine. Whatever you say, princess. What I have decided to do is stay away from her. I'm not going up to her room, I'm not going to talk to her. I told her this, that she's welcome to come to me if she wants, but I'm not going to initiate anything for a while. I just don't need this stress. I don't feel like I deserve it, and if this is how it's going to be, I'd rather not have it.
Today, in fact, we had a short, cordial conversation. It's not much, but it's something. She needs to figure stuff out, and I've been accused of not giving her enough space before. So now I'll give her a football field of space. What I still fail to understand, though, is how quickly this spiraled out of control. Two weeks ago, things were just fine. We were getting along great. I wasn't concerned about the matter of "us," we were just doing our thing. And then she gets mad (overproportionally so) at me at a Wal-Mart trip, the whole sexual harassment thing... it got ugly fast. C'est la vie, I suppose.
So be it. I just know that right now, my conscience on the matter is clear and that basketball is just around the bend.
OK. Allow me to explain.
Carolyn and I had another blowout on Friday. Because it's been a few days since it happened, I might not be able to recall all of the details, but I'm not missing the main blow of what happened. It wasn't pretty.
The thesis of her argument/rant against me is that she feels like I'm not being platonic towards her. In fact, I think I'll use a list of the points she made:
- I'm blowing things out of proportion between us.
- I'm in her room all the time, sometimes sitting there.
- I'm on her floor a lot.
- I don't do much else but sit in my room.
- I talk about this situation with others.
- My world revolves around her (those are her words).
- I make "comments." (example: She shows me a picture of her last boyfriend. I jokingly say, "Gee, I wish I was that good-looking." She flips out. I then say, "Chill out, it was a joke. I don't want to look like that." She snaps, "What's wrong with looking like that?" [rolling eyes])
- Essentially, I'm making it "impossible" for us to be friends.
- She's had problems with some of the poems I've written. You know, the ones she's asked to see.
- She accused me of saying it's OK for her not to like me so long as she doesn't like anyone else. Apparently, I'm a stalker now.
- At one point, she said she was done and was going to take a shower. Levelly, I said, "Fine, have I nice a shower." She snarls, "See? That's what I'm talking about! You just have to be sarcastic all the time." I tell her I wasn't being sarcastic. She claims she knows me well enough to know when I am. I say apparently not, then she says, "Well, maybe we never really were friends."
I don't believe I've done anything especially egregious here. In fact, I've theorized she's channeling a lot of the stress and tension she's had this quarter at me, because everyone knows I'm not going to throw it back at her. A couple people agree that this is a possibility. I did get a message from her late apologizing, saying like she feels like it's all her fault, and all she wants is for me to be happy and it is frustrating for her that I'm not (of course, she can be directly blamed for some of that). Well... fine. Whatever you say, princess. What I have decided to do is stay away from her. I'm not going up to her room, I'm not going to talk to her. I told her this, that she's welcome to come to me if she wants, but I'm not going to initiate anything for a while. I just don't need this stress. I don't feel like I deserve it, and if this is how it's going to be, I'd rather not have it.
Today, in fact, we had a short, cordial conversation. It's not much, but it's something. She needs to figure stuff out, and I've been accused of not giving her enough space before. So now I'll give her a football field of space. What I still fail to understand, though, is how quickly this spiraled out of control. Two weeks ago, things were just fine. We were getting along great. I wasn't concerned about the matter of "us," we were just doing our thing. And then she gets mad (overproportionally so) at me at a Wal-Mart trip, the whole sexual harassment thing... it got ugly fast. C'est la vie, I suppose.
So be it. I just know that right now, my conscience on the matter is clear and that basketball is just around the bend.
3.11.06
My Shiny Dome Reigns Yet
I was informed today that it snowed 3-5 inches back home. As ever, I'm glad I'm in Athens. I can still see the green grass here.
So Carolyn came to me the other night and told me the reason she was curt with me was because she was trying to concentrate on the economics paper and my attempts at conversation were annoying her. She said she would've reacted that way to anyone... but she could've just told me to stop talking. But whatever. It is what it is. Then last night, I try to make a joke and she completely takes it seriously and rubs her the total wrong way. Oy. Sometimes, I can't win. But I keep telling myself I'm not going to let her keep me from doing my thing. I spend too much time worrying over this girl. Yes, I have a ridiculous, intense liking for her, but whatever resolution that is going to come will not for quite some time. I need to learn grace and patience in the matter. I still think that in the end, we'll be together. I just need to stop thinking it's going to happen tomorrow or today. I need to relax.
On a much happier note, basketball season is breathing down my neck like some creepy homeless guy desiring my ice cream. We have our exhibition tomorrow, and for the first time in my student career, we have actual regular season home games during fall quarter! I can't explain how exciting that is. I used to have to wait until January to get my Convo on. Not this year! And have I mentioned I get to lead the scoreboard chant this year? Oh yes. It will be a wonderful season. Basketball is a perfect thing to allow me to forget about things that actually matter. Here's to the bread!
Random: In an interview, President Bush called it "The Google."
I need to get some reading in the Malcom X biography out of the way this weekend. It has to be read for my history final. Good times. And I should have a couple new things up on Newsvine this weekend as well, if things go to plan. But for now, I'm hungry.
So Carolyn came to me the other night and told me the reason she was curt with me was because she was trying to concentrate on the economics paper and my attempts at conversation were annoying her. She said she would've reacted that way to anyone... but she could've just told me to stop talking. But whatever. It is what it is. Then last night, I try to make a joke and she completely takes it seriously and rubs her the total wrong way. Oy. Sometimes, I can't win. But I keep telling myself I'm not going to let her keep me from doing my thing. I spend too much time worrying over this girl. Yes, I have a ridiculous, intense liking for her, but whatever resolution that is going to come will not for quite some time. I need to learn grace and patience in the matter. I still think that in the end, we'll be together. I just need to stop thinking it's going to happen tomorrow or today. I need to relax.
On a much happier note, basketball season is breathing down my neck like some creepy homeless guy desiring my ice cream. We have our exhibition tomorrow, and for the first time in my student career, we have actual regular season home games during fall quarter! I can't explain how exciting that is. I used to have to wait until January to get my Convo on. Not this year! And have I mentioned I get to lead the scoreboard chant this year? Oh yes. It will be a wonderful season. Basketball is a perfect thing to allow me to forget about things that actually matter. Here's to the bread!
Random: In an interview, President Bush called it "The Google."
I need to get some reading in the Malcom X biography out of the way this weekend. It has to be read for my history final. Good times. And I should have a couple new things up on Newsvine this weekend as well, if things go to plan. But for now, I'm hungry.
1.11.06
Azure
I dare not close my eye
lest I miss your crystal sky
and dance in the golden rain
where the darkness was slain
Taking wing and letting go
to look down, observe the show
Cascade around our face
make it our place
The size of a fist
and no outside exists.
lest I miss your crystal sky
and dance in the golden rain
where the darkness was slain
Taking wing and letting go
to look down, observe the show
Cascade around our face
make it our place
The size of a fist
and no outside exists.
Just Keep On Keepin' On
The world, as Kracha was fond of saying, hadn't come to an end.
No, the world isn't over. There are three quotes I have on the wall above my computer: Job 2:10 (perhaps my favorite Bible verse), Ephesians 6:10-17, and this sentence from Thomas Bell's Out of This Furnace. More than anything else, it's supposed to remind me that no matter what crap is piling up around my neck, it's not over unless I'm being lowered into the ground in my overly expensive coffin. No one thing is going to ruin my life. In effect, the world hasn't ended.
It's a good thing to keep in mind for people like me that can overanalyze and let things get the better of them. Kracha had an affair, lost his wife, lost his second wife, got thrown in jail, and lost his business, but the world didn't end. He still had a life to live, something to make it out of. And I'm certainly in a much better position than he was. I just need to try and control the situation instead of the situation controlling me. I can't dictate the actions of others, so I can't let their actions dictate me. It's a constant battle against myself for supremacy between reason and panic.
Take tonight, for instance. I was sitting in Carolyn's room and she was working on a paper for her economics class. I was reading the newspaper, taking in the local information on the upcoming elections and chatting idly. At one point, she got frustrated and went to talk to Tyler for help. After she came back, I was done with the newspaper and was curious about what she was working on, so I looked at it. "Having fun?" she muttered. I could tell she was struggling with it, so I offered my help, limited as it was. "Don't help," she cut off quickly. "I just want to figure it out myself." I immediately thought, "Didn't you just seek out Tyler for help?" A few minutes later, she declared she was done working on it for the night and she was going to go hang out with Bethany and Tyler. It would be real easy for me to take that scene and think she was just trying to get away from me. But that's silly, right?
The world... hadn't come to an end. I have that and Shel telling me to stop being an idiot playing in my head as a loop. I really wish I had something of a stabilizing force around- the girl is anything but stabilizing. Oy.
And then last night, Jessica writes on my Facebook wall about the hug we had a few years ago at the New Year's party. If I were to construct a list of the top five most important moments in my romantic history, that would be on it. I don't get it. The girl just loves playing with my head... or maybe she just likes to keep me warm when she's not around. All you female types are very maddening. I don't like it.
Oh, and there's a new column up.
It's a good thing to keep in mind for people like me that can overanalyze and let things get the better of them. Kracha had an affair, lost his wife, lost his second wife, got thrown in jail, and lost his business, but the world didn't end. He still had a life to live, something to make it out of. And I'm certainly in a much better position than he was. I just need to try and control the situation instead of the situation controlling me. I can't dictate the actions of others, so I can't let their actions dictate me. It's a constant battle against myself for supremacy between reason and panic.
Take tonight, for instance. I was sitting in Carolyn's room and she was working on a paper for her economics class. I was reading the newspaper, taking in the local information on the upcoming elections and chatting idly. At one point, she got frustrated and went to talk to Tyler for help. After she came back, I was done with the newspaper and was curious about what she was working on, so I looked at it. "Having fun?" she muttered. I could tell she was struggling with it, so I offered my help, limited as it was. "Don't help," she cut off quickly. "I just want to figure it out myself." I immediately thought, "Didn't you just seek out Tyler for help?" A few minutes later, she declared she was done working on it for the night and she was going to go hang out with Bethany and Tyler. It would be real easy for me to take that scene and think she was just trying to get away from me. But that's silly, right?
The world... hadn't come to an end. I have that and Shel telling me to stop being an idiot playing in my head as a loop. I really wish I had something of a stabilizing force around- the girl is anything but stabilizing. Oy.
And then last night, Jessica writes on my Facebook wall about the hug we had a few years ago at the New Year's party. If I were to construct a list of the top five most important moments in my romantic history, that would be on it. I don't get it. The girl just loves playing with my head... or maybe she just likes to keep me warm when she's not around. All you female types are very maddening. I don't like it.
Oh, and there's a new column up.
31.10.06
Chest Crusher
I think it's safe to say I am not a person on an even keel. When I'm up, I'm up. And when I'm down, I'm down. Especially when I'm left alone when I'm done, I can fold in on myself and make things much worse than they need to be. This is what I did this weekend.
I did a lot of writing on Friday; I wrote here, I wrote on Newsvine (go look if you haven't already, thewhirlingdervish.newsvine.com), and I wrote a few poems. The guy who messed with Carolyn got kicked out of the building, which made me happy. She and I were talking late Friday night and she asked me what I had done with the evening. I told her about the writing. She asked to see the poems I wrote, and I gave them to her. Now, this is where I made the tactical error. I write my poems about a variety of things, but she doesn't like to read the ones about her because of our situation. It's a long story. But because my brain completely left me for a moment, I didn't tell her which ones she should and should not read, so she read them all. Whoops.
Upon realizing this, I go into mini-panic mode. I had told myself that because of what she was going through, I wasn't going to complicate things. I wasn't going to be in the way. The last thing she needed was me doing something, So then I go and do that... I wasn't happy with myself. I don't like when people I care about are mad at me. I don't deal with it well.
So Saturday, I was watching the OU-Kent football game. The Bobs won and took control of the MAC East with the victory. I should've been thrilled, I should've been celebrating it, but I couldn't. I saw Carolyn walk by my door a few times without saying a word to me or even acknowledging me. Each time, my mood worsened. As the day went on, people went out and had fun. I stayed in my room and stewed at myself. Nobody dropped by the room or talked to me, which didn't help matters. Everyone had a great time but me, he who allows himself to spin out of control too easily.
Sunday was easier, as I left Athens for Oxford and the OU-Miami volleyball match. We swept them; I nearly got kicked out. One of the Miami coaches really doesn't like me.
But today didn't go well at all. My roommate turned my alarm off, so I slept through my classes. The great part of bipolar is that it can overtake you without any warning or control, which is pretty much what happened today. I ceased to function. I couldn't do anything. I spent the whole day sitting around, my chest feeling like someone was trying to squeeze it to dust. Finally, I was able to speak to Carolyn. I laid it all out, my mistake, my guilt, the depression part of it... I told her how I feel like sometimes I'm unwanted, like I'm a poison to those around me (I even told her about the worst thing I ever did, the thing that nearly blew up my friendship with Tim), the depression, all that. It turns out she wasn't as mad as I thought she was, and she said nobody wanted to talk to me because I looked angry the entire weekend. Go figure.
She told me I needed to engage myself. She told me nobody feels the way I do when I said I feel like the guy that always hangs around but nobody wants. But it's hard to do that when all of myself wants to just sit and stare at the walls, when I feel like I'm nothing more than a burden to others. It's things like this that cause me to say I hate myself, cause me to not eat for a week, cause me to withdraw from the world completely. I don't like it. But I exist on a permanent slippery slope.
And I know it's completely silly, but I feel like I'm losing Carolyn, that she's going to decide that in the end, she doesn't want to be with me. I just don't have any confidence right now. And frankly, I don't think I'm equipped to deal with it if it happens. The thing about it all is, what I've had with her is completely unlike anything else. I write the stupid, sappy poems about love and I talk about relationships, but I never had a real one before. Kat wasn't real. Before Kat was just high school. But with Carolyn... I saw it for the first time. I felt it for the first time. I understood the limitless potential for what could be, for what it already was. Everything with us just fit together. We instinctively acted together, made each other laugh, leaned on each other for support.
One time before we went somewhere (I don't remember where), Tim and I were getting ready. Girls were going to be involved, so we were talking about it. I asked him for advice. He said, "Don't think. You get into trouble when you think." I laughed at the time, but I realize now he knew me better than I knew myself. Before with Carolyn, I never had to think. I just acted, and it all worked. Now, I'm thinking all the time and tripping over myself and freaking out about it all. I need to learn not to think again. More than anything else, I need her. And now, I'm terrified she's going to look at me and the mistakes I've made recently and determine I'm not good for her.
Right now, I just feel like I have a reverse Midas touch, that everything I lay a finger on turns to dust. So, really, I'm most likely exaggerating these things like I always do. But it's impossible for me not to. I feel like I'm buried 20 feet underground. I need someone to tell me this has just been a weird, rough stretch of time. I need someone to tell me things are OK. Most importantly, I need to believe it myself.
I did a lot of writing on Friday; I wrote here, I wrote on Newsvine (go look if you haven't already, thewhirlingdervish.newsvine.com), and I wrote a few poems. The guy who messed with Carolyn got kicked out of the building, which made me happy. She and I were talking late Friday night and she asked me what I had done with the evening. I told her about the writing. She asked to see the poems I wrote, and I gave them to her. Now, this is where I made the tactical error. I write my poems about a variety of things, but she doesn't like to read the ones about her because of our situation. It's a long story. But because my brain completely left me for a moment, I didn't tell her which ones she should and should not read, so she read them all. Whoops.
Upon realizing this, I go into mini-panic mode. I had told myself that because of what she was going through, I wasn't going to complicate things. I wasn't going to be in the way. The last thing she needed was me doing something, So then I go and do that... I wasn't happy with myself. I don't like when people I care about are mad at me. I don't deal with it well.
So Saturday, I was watching the OU-Kent football game. The Bobs won and took control of the MAC East with the victory. I should've been thrilled, I should've been celebrating it, but I couldn't. I saw Carolyn walk by my door a few times without saying a word to me or even acknowledging me. Each time, my mood worsened. As the day went on, people went out and had fun. I stayed in my room and stewed at myself. Nobody dropped by the room or talked to me, which didn't help matters. Everyone had a great time but me, he who allows himself to spin out of control too easily.
Sunday was easier, as I left Athens for Oxford and the OU-Miami volleyball match. We swept them; I nearly got kicked out. One of the Miami coaches really doesn't like me.
But today didn't go well at all. My roommate turned my alarm off, so I slept through my classes. The great part of bipolar is that it can overtake you without any warning or control, which is pretty much what happened today. I ceased to function. I couldn't do anything. I spent the whole day sitting around, my chest feeling like someone was trying to squeeze it to dust. Finally, I was able to speak to Carolyn. I laid it all out, my mistake, my guilt, the depression part of it... I told her how I feel like sometimes I'm unwanted, like I'm a poison to those around me (I even told her about the worst thing I ever did, the thing that nearly blew up my friendship with Tim), the depression, all that. It turns out she wasn't as mad as I thought she was, and she said nobody wanted to talk to me because I looked angry the entire weekend. Go figure.
She told me I needed to engage myself. She told me nobody feels the way I do when I said I feel like the guy that always hangs around but nobody wants. But it's hard to do that when all of myself wants to just sit and stare at the walls, when I feel like I'm nothing more than a burden to others. It's things like this that cause me to say I hate myself, cause me to not eat for a week, cause me to withdraw from the world completely. I don't like it. But I exist on a permanent slippery slope.
And I know it's completely silly, but I feel like I'm losing Carolyn, that she's going to decide that in the end, she doesn't want to be with me. I just don't have any confidence right now. And frankly, I don't think I'm equipped to deal with it if it happens. The thing about it all is, what I've had with her is completely unlike anything else. I write the stupid, sappy poems about love and I talk about relationships, but I never had a real one before. Kat wasn't real. Before Kat was just high school. But with Carolyn... I saw it for the first time. I felt it for the first time. I understood the limitless potential for what could be, for what it already was. Everything with us just fit together. We instinctively acted together, made each other laugh, leaned on each other for support.
One time before we went somewhere (I don't remember where), Tim and I were getting ready. Girls were going to be involved, so we were talking about it. I asked him for advice. He said, "Don't think. You get into trouble when you think." I laughed at the time, but I realize now he knew me better than I knew myself. Before with Carolyn, I never had to think. I just acted, and it all worked. Now, I'm thinking all the time and tripping over myself and freaking out about it all. I need to learn not to think again. More than anything else, I need her. And now, I'm terrified she's going to look at me and the mistakes I've made recently and determine I'm not good for her.
Right now, I just feel like I have a reverse Midas touch, that everything I lay a finger on turns to dust. So, really, I'm most likely exaggerating these things like I always do. But it's impossible for me not to. I feel like I'm buried 20 feet underground. I need someone to tell me this has just been a weird, rough stretch of time. I need someone to tell me things are OK. Most importantly, I need to believe it myself.
27.10.06
The Week I Wish Wasn't
As I write this, I'm trying to push out of my head the annoyance that is Ohio University Halloween and all the hassles it brings into my life. However, I suppose that after this week, whatever inconveniences it causes me should be considered minor.
The best place to start, I am told, is the beginning. On Monday, I had an exam in my Rome class. I felt reasonably prepared walking into it. After walking out, however, I severely wanted to hurt the professor. Severely. Allow me to illustrate. The test was one hour long and featured 75 fill in the blanks (yes, 75), six short answers, and 42 map questions. Please explain to me how I am supposed to get all of that done in an hour. The short answers alone would've taken me at least a half hour to complete. I left a healthy portion of that test complete. I was seething. What's the point of creating a test like that? I don't get it. I can't wait to get it back and find out there's no curve on it. Really, I'll be thrilled. I might high five someone. Seriously... why? Do you have a bonus for each student flunking?
Tuesday featured an exam in my globalization class, which I think went OK. The test largely had what I expected (imagine that!), so that was fine. But that night, a guy on the third floor exposed himself to Carolyn. And when I say exposed, I mean exposed. The whole farm.
That started off a whole ugly chain. Carolyn, you see, is a girl who has lived something of a sheltered life. She went to a Catholic all-girl school, has lived very clean, very pure. As she said, the last penis she saw belonged to her baby brother. So this didn't go over well at all. She told me the whole thing has made her feel dirty (even though she didn't do anything), like she can't trust going to that floor anymore or going outside alone now.
So now she's had to deal with it, and I think she's done a good job. She reported it, the police have gotten involved, and action will be taken. But on a personal note... I feel like she's keeping me at arm's length right now because of our situation. I understand it, I'm not upset at her for it, but it's very frustrating. All I want to do is hold her and tell her everything will be OK, yet she's skittish around me right now. Conversations have been... uneasy. She's keeping me updated on what's going on, but she's not really letting me in. For things she would normally come to me with, she's seeking out others right now. What this means for us, I'm not sure. Her roommate tells me I'm doing the right things by letting her come to me instead of my coming to her and that she's probably not even doing this consciously... but right now, I just feel powerless to do anything and a little left out in the cold. It's yet another thing we're going to have to work through on the way to things being as they should.
She also dyed her hair red. I don't like it. Thankfully, I haven't had to tell her what I think.
On Wednesday, Jeff Newbauer died. If you know him, I really don't have anything to add. If you didn't, well... google his name. Look at the CNN transcripts, the news stories, all the stuff he did in his abbreviated life.
Also, the guy who harassed Carolyn decided that he wanted to pull me into it. Knowing we kind of sort of have a thing, he told a bunch of guys he was going to try and provoke me. And he tried to accomplish that when we played basketball, slapping me, pushing me, bumping me, and throwing forearm shivers at me. I came close, but I didn't let him... mainly because he's a scholarship athlete and could probably kill me without much effort. And he was probably looking for an excuse; he shattered someone's jaw once. Naturally, I reported it.
I also got to schedule for next quarter. Amazingly, baseball history counts for my 20th century American history graduation requirement. Good times.
Nothing really bad happened Thursday... but it was pretty blah. I was tired from the week. I didn't really do anything.
I did learn today, though, that the guy is being removed from the building, so that's good. The Cardinals won the World Series a few minutes ago... and I don't even really care. I'm pretty sure baseball was entertaining once. And Carolyn is on her period and in a lot of pain... girl's had an awful week. I wish there was something I could do.
The best place to start, I am told, is the beginning. On Monday, I had an exam in my Rome class. I felt reasonably prepared walking into it. After walking out, however, I severely wanted to hurt the professor. Severely. Allow me to illustrate. The test was one hour long and featured 75 fill in the blanks (yes, 75), six short answers, and 42 map questions. Please explain to me how I am supposed to get all of that done in an hour. The short answers alone would've taken me at least a half hour to complete. I left a healthy portion of that test complete. I was seething. What's the point of creating a test like that? I don't get it. I can't wait to get it back and find out there's no curve on it. Really, I'll be thrilled. I might high five someone. Seriously... why? Do you have a bonus for each student flunking?
Tuesday featured an exam in my globalization class, which I think went OK. The test largely had what I expected (imagine that!), so that was fine. But that night, a guy on the third floor exposed himself to Carolyn. And when I say exposed, I mean exposed. The whole farm.
That started off a whole ugly chain. Carolyn, you see, is a girl who has lived something of a sheltered life. She went to a Catholic all-girl school, has lived very clean, very pure. As she said, the last penis she saw belonged to her baby brother. So this didn't go over well at all. She told me the whole thing has made her feel dirty (even though she didn't do anything), like she can't trust going to that floor anymore or going outside alone now.
So now she's had to deal with it, and I think she's done a good job. She reported it, the police have gotten involved, and action will be taken. But on a personal note... I feel like she's keeping me at arm's length right now because of our situation. I understand it, I'm not upset at her for it, but it's very frustrating. All I want to do is hold her and tell her everything will be OK, yet she's skittish around me right now. Conversations have been... uneasy. She's keeping me updated on what's going on, but she's not really letting me in. For things she would normally come to me with, she's seeking out others right now. What this means for us, I'm not sure. Her roommate tells me I'm doing the right things by letting her come to me instead of my coming to her and that she's probably not even doing this consciously... but right now, I just feel powerless to do anything and a little left out in the cold. It's yet another thing we're going to have to work through on the way to things being as they should.
She also dyed her hair red. I don't like it. Thankfully, I haven't had to tell her what I think.
On Wednesday, Jeff Newbauer died. If you know him, I really don't have anything to add. If you didn't, well... google his name. Look at the CNN transcripts, the news stories, all the stuff he did in his abbreviated life.
Also, the guy who harassed Carolyn decided that he wanted to pull me into it. Knowing we kind of sort of have a thing, he told a bunch of guys he was going to try and provoke me. And he tried to accomplish that when we played basketball, slapping me, pushing me, bumping me, and throwing forearm shivers at me. I came close, but I didn't let him... mainly because he's a scholarship athlete and could probably kill me without much effort. And he was probably looking for an excuse; he shattered someone's jaw once. Naturally, I reported it.
I also got to schedule for next quarter. Amazingly, baseball history counts for my 20th century American history graduation requirement. Good times.
Nothing really bad happened Thursday... but it was pretty blah. I was tired from the week. I didn't really do anything.
I did learn today, though, that the guy is being removed from the building, so that's good. The Cardinals won the World Series a few minutes ago... and I don't even really care. I'm pretty sure baseball was entertaining once. And Carolyn is on her period and in a lot of pain... girl's had an awful week. I wish there was something I could do.
Again? Really?
Well, yes. Enough of you have asked what happened to the last blog that I've gone and done this. Again.
To answer the common question, VITC is gone because I chose not to pay the renewal fee. It's not that I didn't want to, but I'm cheap. And cheap people make these kind of decisions. I'm also doing this because there's a lot going on right now, and I'm getting tired of telling eight billion people the same story. Inevitably, the story gets shorter and shorter as I retell it. So why not tell it once here?
Losing VITC to history is something I regret at this point. However, the dream I had for it, the vision that led me to make it is not gone. I will bring it back at some point, perhaps in a year or two. I believe in it. I want it to happen.
So what will this be? It's going to be very stream of consciousness. I may talk about my day, I may vent, I may express feelings, I may throw up a poem I wrote. I really don't know, and neither should you. In fact, I hope you come here wondering what to find, be it 2,000 words on a girl smiling at me or my latest lame poem.
I'm attacking this whole writing thing from three fronts at the moment. You should already know about my Speakeasy column (http://www.speakeasymag.com/index.php/blogs/article/category/The%20Whirling%20Dervish/), updated every Wednesday. I will probably link to each week's edition from here as well if you're too lazy/unable to remember to do so yourself. Obviously, I have this.
I'm also branching out with my political/news writing to try and reach a wider audience. I have another column at www.thewhirlingdervish.newsvine.com as well. That will be where I will levy my criticism of news and politics among other things. Out of the three projects, I am most excited about this. In addition to my columns (updated whenever I feel like), you'll find news articles I have flagged as interesting for one reason or another, as well as various Web recommendations. I hope you like it and will check it out. Please tell friends.
Oh, by the way, this is something of a private deal, this here blog. Only people I have given the URL to should be reading this. It means, in general, that I trust you and that nothing I write here is going to damage you or myself. This means my family shouldn't know about this, and the girl shouldn't know about this. I would appreciate if you respected the relative anonymity of this venture.
And always, leave comments. I love them. Even if you think I'm an idiot, and you all do at some point. And thanks for stopping by, San Diego.
To answer the common question, VITC is gone because I chose not to pay the renewal fee. It's not that I didn't want to, but I'm cheap. And cheap people make these kind of decisions. I'm also doing this because there's a lot going on right now, and I'm getting tired of telling eight billion people the same story. Inevitably, the story gets shorter and shorter as I retell it. So why not tell it once here?
Losing VITC to history is something I regret at this point. However, the dream I had for it, the vision that led me to make it is not gone. I will bring it back at some point, perhaps in a year or two. I believe in it. I want it to happen.
So what will this be? It's going to be very stream of consciousness. I may talk about my day, I may vent, I may express feelings, I may throw up a poem I wrote. I really don't know, and neither should you. In fact, I hope you come here wondering what to find, be it 2,000 words on a girl smiling at me or my latest lame poem.
I'm attacking this whole writing thing from three fronts at the moment. You should already know about my Speakeasy column (http://www.speakeasymag.com/index.php/blogs/article/category/The%20Whirling%20Dervish/), updated every Wednesday. I will probably link to each week's edition from here as well if you're too lazy/unable to remember to do so yourself. Obviously, I have this.
I'm also branching out with my political/news writing to try and reach a wider audience. I have another column at www.thewhirlingdervish.newsvine.com as well. That will be where I will levy my criticism of news and politics among other things. Out of the three projects, I am most excited about this. In addition to my columns (updated whenever I feel like), you'll find news articles I have flagged as interesting for one reason or another, as well as various Web recommendations. I hope you like it and will check it out. Please tell friends.
Oh, by the way, this is something of a private deal, this here blog. Only people I have given the URL to should be reading this. It means, in general, that I trust you and that nothing I write here is going to damage you or myself. This means my family shouldn't know about this, and the girl shouldn't know about this. I would appreciate if you respected the relative anonymity of this venture.
And always, leave comments. I love them. Even if you think I'm an idiot, and you all do at some point. And thanks for stopping by, San Diego.
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About Me
- Monty
- I am who I think I am, I am who you know I am, I am who I want to be, who I was, who I could be, who I can't be. I am.
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