Bah!

I guess that's about the most succinct expression of my emotional state right now. I'm not in a bad mood anymore, given that I now know that I don't have to work today. That said, I'm still mildly annoyed by a few things:

-I got caught up doing situps and pushups this morning and had to rush out the door a bit, leaving me wholly unsatisfied with my outfit today, which makes me extremely uneasy
-It's <i>just</i> warm enough to not have to wear anything under the knit I have on, but it's <i>just</i> cool enough that I feel the chilliest of gusts, and that really annoys me
-I really no longer have a whole lot of desire to attend classes or any of that. I have the feelings of senioritis pretty hard.

I'm going to expound on that a bit, as best I can. You see, I have money problems insomuch that I don't really have any. My sister and I have always joked around that we were born into the wrong family. Our attitudes and tastes suggest that we should have been born into wealthy dynasties; into royalty or something like that. That's not to say that we ever grew up wanting--quite the opposite--but I want to be able to do what I want without having to worry about the constrains of money.

Luckily, that lifestyle doesn't <i>require</i> filthy-rich levels of cash--it only requires an abundance. Back when I worked at AFLAC, I had an abundance. I was an 18 year old making $27000 a year. That's not very much, really, I know. But, it's a TON for someone who didn't have to pay rent, or make a car payment or anything of the sort. With no bills and no rent, $27k is pretty rockin'. So, I spent, and I loved it. But I still dreamt a lot, so I decided I had had enough, and moved on. I'm in a different place now, I feel, and I'm thinking that I need to reorganize my future. I have been operating under the notion that I am rapidly getting old, and I need to dispell that idea, because I'm only going on 22. I have a built up romantic idea that I need to accomplish everything; I have been rushing my life. The focal point of all of this reorganization is the need to have a foundation for living. I'm sick of living like a 17 year-old high school dropout. I'm sick of living like a typical college student. I want a real apartment with real rooms and real furniture--I want a real existence.

So it's very practical of me to come to this conclusion now because factors have arisen that almost certainly will disallow me to attend classes in the fall. My goal, then, is to secure a full-time job, live comfortably for a while, then allow Uncle Sam to pay for my college, and become an Officer in the USAF or US Marine Corps. Cool, huh?

Shit, I was going to go on to talk about how I want to blog a lot more about fashion, and I want to start blogging more in general and blah blah. But, it's time for class!

-Later

I know it's been a particularly long time (for me, anyway), since I've written in this bad boy. My knee-jerk reaction would be to say that I don't know why I haven't been writing updates; but that's not entirely true, I don't think. Whenever I'm privy to the idea of thinking about thinking about thinking about things, I tend to lean to the side of: "Well, I just couldn't be arsed to write". Which is pretty much exactly the truth, it appears.

There's probably a more apt explanation for this phenomenon, but whenever nothing is happening in my life, I don't feel the need to write anything about it. Go figure, huh? I then tend to chastise myself, because what self-respecting writer wouldn't be able to write  THE NEXT GREAT AMERICAN NOVEL with the following premise:

- Wake up at 8:16
- Immediately turn on Xbox360 and put on an episode of Law and Order: SVU
- Do 100 pushups
- Eat a 5th of a cinnamon roll and some carrots
- Put in contacts
- Decide what to wear
- Not decide to wear that
- Decide what to wear
- Not decide to wear that
- Repeat the last four things approximately four more times
- Settle on clothes
- Leave for class
- Read 'Ariel' by Sylvia Plath instead of listening to a word of the lecture
- Space off 'Ariel' trying to think of a compelling reason to talk a girl a row ahead
- Finish 'Ariel'

Anyway, you get the idea. And maybe I *am* being too hard on myself, or some such. And actually, in writing out those steps, I think that I maybe could write something that is witty at the very least.

Alright, I have a confession to make. Last time I was at home I discovered a notebook with miscellaneous thoughts and ideas and poems and whatnot, and it was about half full. I decided to finish it out, and filled the rest of it with poems. I wrote on and on and on and on and it was full. Then, for whatever reason, I just left it in the bus stop across from the main University Library. There was no author name, no information, nothing. A regular old yellow-cover spiral bound notebook. Who knows what happened to it.

I don't know why I always assign so little value to the things/poetry I write myself. I think it might have something to do with thinking and/or knowing that it would be next to impossible to live the way I dream of (money, clothes, etc) as a poet, so I don't even trouble myself with wanting to publish or anything. Whateverrrr.

So what else is going on in my life? Well, Vortex is closing, which as of right now, leaves me jobless in about a month or so, it would appear. Chris has been amazingly stressed and is busy 98% of his life. Luckily, a lot of that is spent rehearsing a play he's very passionate about, and it'll be great to see him perform.

Lindsey seems more conflicted, confused and scared than ever before. She is set off very easily into bouts of irritation that I think aren't entirely directed at me, but are instead indictments of herself. It's difficult for me to understand and truly empathize entirely with whatever she has to be going through, because it seems so random and undefined. I know a crisis of personality is allowed to be vague, but there are so many roots and stems that it ends up coming across as a sort of generalized 20-something angst that would be a lot less (read: not at all) annoying if I knew how to help her with all of it. Instead, I end up frustrated and annoyed because she can't communicate any of her feelings, and with that inability, all that's left is a comment that, while not having a direct critique of me (or Carsten, or Chris) in it, has its genus in some observation about or within us.

What I have come to because of a lot of this is a sort of actualization and solidification of my own self, I suppose. In realizing what sort of things annoy me, or make me feel ill-at-ease or trigger certain feelings and senses, I have more concisely pin-pointed that which makes up "me". I'm not at all trying to position myself in any way, nor do I really have any committed sense of what that "me" really constitutes, but I do know that there seems to be a rather fundamental ideology that I must have that is not widely held...or something. A large part of it has to do with my living largely without stresses and cares. For whatever reason, from a very early age, I have never allowed myself to be overcome by stresses or those sorts of negative things. Where some people use the word "grounded" to talk about a firm foothold on all things that aren't abstract or flighty, my own sense of "grounded" belongs firmly in the realm of optimism.

My basic philosophy, it seems, can be explored and summed up with: I believe that things in life are going to turn out in a good way.

So it follows that I needn't worry about the day-to-day stresses because I know things will turn out in the end. So when I propose that Lindsey confront her parents on the topic of her burgeoning line of questioning regarding her faith (one dwells not on Dawkins if one is  locked up by God), no other outcome occurs to me other than an eventual acceptance and peace. To me, any questioning or presupposing of a negative outcome is absolutely silly. The same goes for every single other aspect of my life. It seems to me that assuming and thinking things will turn out in a bad way will make those things turn out in a bad way. And it follows then, according to my logic system, that one wouldn't even want to consider negative options at all. So I don't. *SO*, I seem to be made for flights of fancy, or I seem to come across as devil-may-care or irresponsible. I'm often told that I "don't care enough" or that I am "not worried enough". When, to me, worries and cares are simply not things that occur to me unless they are specifically about someone I love or something abstract.

Alright, I'll turn away from philosophical talk and all that jazz, and focus on something that I am really, truly, amazingly happy about: Carsten is our friend again. I know I've devoted line after line of this blog to the discussion and exploration of why he decided to stop being friends, and, sparing the details--all of that is over and done with. This newest time spent with him (luckily a lot!) has shown me once again why I really treasure his friendship. Carsten has one of the truest hearts I have ever known, and easily the sharpest mind, to boot. Humour comes to him effortlessly, and his other gifts are innumerable. He shares the passion for all things nerdy that I have, but with the same cautious/wary/speculative eye, and yet, our opinions on things are different/same enough to allow for amazing Perkins-style conversations that last for hours. In addition, he is a good friend, and a good human being. I couldn't praise him enough. He also makes me miss Tom.

Well, as I sat, I was going to write some poetry, but my time seems to have run short. I am going to be regimenting myself into writing and excercising my "pen" like I do my body, so we'll see how that turns out.

-Later

So here's the situation.

It's my senior year, or more like the summer after senior year. College is incoming, hope is abound, love is springing eternally, etc etc. I am introduced to a dude named Carsten--not only through my ex-girlfriend, but also through my brother-in-law. Immediately, I know Carsten has it. "It" is that magical quality that makes me like someone. Now, despite having a lot of acquaintences and generally liking people, I don't often like like someone--as in, I don't often feel like I could be any more than what I like to call, "Hi, How's The Weather?" friends. But Carsten was with it. This kid was smart, funny and was one of the few other people (including my own friends) who I could talk about comic books with.

Well, as it turned out, Carsten was heading off to the same University! So, he was more or less folded into our social circle. It was awesome; Carsten would destroy us at Halo and we would all have long talks about zombies and generally, after a short time, I really felt like he had become one of my closest friends.

It survived this way for a long time--even when I had dropped out, we all continued to hang out when we could. I remember a particularly amazing time we had playing through Resident Evil 4.

And even this last summer, him, myself and Chris hung out at least a couple times, including a memorable "cup with extreme velocity into wind-shield" incident that involved me blowing a stop sign and driving 90 on I-80 all the way out to IHOP.

But then, the Fall 2008 semester fell upon us all and...that seemed to signal the end, somehow. At least for me. He stopped returning calls, he didn't answer Facebook or Xbox Live Messages--nothing. On my birthday I recieved a messaged on Facebook that was simply, "Happy Birthday, Ian." After that, I have had literally no contact with this guy who I used to think I would remain very close friends. That is, until last night.

He was at The Mill! Chris said he was drinking! Something Carsten swore to us he would never do. I was snarkier than I probably should have been, but I was really shaken. Shaken enough to call my therapist and talk to him about all of this.

It seems I have a problem with projection. This projection thing is pretty close to being the center of my emotional problems. When I feel a certain way towards somebody, I assume that they feel the same way. When that assumption is warped and revealed not to be true, I not only get hurt, but I get angry. "How dare they don't feel as strongly about me as I do them! How dare they!"

And I realized that I do this with all of my relationships. I get easily hurt and offended when my illusionary world is disrupted; I get hurt when I, for some reason, and allowed a glimpse into a person and I see that I feel more strongly towards them than they do me.

With Carsten, I think it was always the case that he must not have considered out friendship as important. I'm a social guy. I need--literally need--friends to function. I must have people to bounce thoughts off of and to make me feel like my life is important somehow. Carsten, however, always told us that he could exist in confinement, and I don't think I ever really listened to him. "Oh, he is just saying that", I would think.

So it occurred to me that I must have smothered him or something. I played my hand too hard. Seeing as how he still communicates with Chris and Nicole and whatnot--but not me--I figured I had to have done something specifically to him to make him feel antagonistically towards me.

In mild connection to that topic, I feel there must be something similar at work going on with Tom. Remember him? Basically my brother? The one single person aside from my family who I legitimately thought would never leave my life? Well, he is, for all intents and purposes, barely a friend anymore. I speak to people I see in class more than I do him--and I think that's a consequence not only of my friendship neediness, but also as a consequence of us being in two completely different places in life. My head is still firmly rooted in the clouds, whereas Tom has been dragged from the sky and pinned to the ground and is being pummeled to death by life and hopelessness. This is made even worse by the fact that we, as humans, fall into our routines. I've settled pretty nicely these last two semesters. It's class--sometimes work--food--working out/hanging out--bed. When these sorts of things are disrupted in my life, I become uneasy. I don't like to...I dunno, split time, and Tom isn't in a place where he's content to hang out and just kinda live this college life all of us have going on. I guess we'll see where this all goes. I certainly don't have any idea.

My hands are so dry! Arghhhh

-Later

I dunno, I'm kinda bored, heh.

I guess there is something to talk about--we lost our last game 6-0. It was embarrassing and a pretty huge drag. Oh well, c'est la vie. I can continue to play footie to my heart's content now that I know where the pickup games go on!

I suppose I also have been listening to a ton of Loveline, which, in addition to being really hilarious, is a great outlet for all of the psychobabble that I know. It's awesome to hear Dr. Drew say things to people that I have also deduced. It makes me feel, I dunno, validated or somesuch in all of the analysis I do of people and situations. It's weird because I've found myself sorta speaking in the same manner as Drew, or at least in a similar cadence.

I don't think Tanesha is a huge fan of Drew and Adam, though, for reasons which I can fully understand, really. Here are all of these people calling with the same sorts of family situations and history as her, and it must be disquieting to be proxy-diagnosed, especially to someone like her who seems to not understand that one can be mentally effected by things and still be a normal person. Also, both Lindsey and Tanesha are a testament to what growing up religious can do to you. As Adam said about a caller Drew diagnosed just a minute ago on my iPod here, "This girl is like a case from one of your books, Drew."

On what is a mildly unrelated topic--this Friday I absolutely must do something about this ridiculous crush I have on this girl from my Intro English course. It's getting a bit out of hand, it seems like.

I wish I could talk to Chris or Lindsey or Tanesha about my own crushes. I mean, I guess Chris has a vague idea, but I can't tell him as much because he gets frustrated with me very easily for some reason; I can't talk to Tanesha because she hasn't got a clue about anything, nor is her advice on romantic matters useful or coming from any real experience or perspective; Lindsey I can't talk to because she gets upset easily for entirely different reasons, it seems--for god's sake I was talking about an engaged co-worker (FEMALE) last night and her tone and body language couldn't possibly have been more defensive. And thus, I am left to talk about Girl-Related topics with the internet and Beth, which, oddly enough, is not uncomfortable.

Related to that: do I go to Chicago? hm.

I think that's about it.

-Later

Oh boy oh boy.

A bit of background, quickly. As explained in my last entry, I was involved in a rather unfortunate car accident. That said, since I cannot exist in two places at once, I was unable to attend my German class on Thursday. I, of course, relayed this information to my German teacher in a long, detailed e-mail which included the police report number and the phone number and name of the insurance agent handling the situation. The response I got?

"Thank you for the e-mail. I will need documentation."

When I read that all I could think was, "are you kidding me?" I sent back an admittedly snarky reply, asking whether or not she would prefer pictures of the wreck, or perhaps I could bring one of the police to class? Also, to be productive, I asked for a fax number which I could relay to my parents' agent so she could send whatever the hell THE ALMIGHTY TEACHER needed.

I guess I'm a bit more angry than I should be, but that's most exacerbated by the fact that I am falling perilously behind in the class, I feel. As it is, I just now had enough money to buy the book secondhand (an older edition, but still, it should work). I just feel icky about it.

Chris' birthday celebration was Saturday night and it was the pinnacle of fun. Drinks were drunk, dances were danced and good times were had by all.

Sorry if I seem terse or something--I dunno what the deal is...the prose bug just hasn't bitten today. I blame my mood.

Hah

-Later