Saturday Morning Haiku (and whining)

A sad clown smiles,

Helping others to forget

that which bring unease.

Morning my Andyvillians,

Keepin' it real and definitely keepin' it frugal describes my life of late. Though how can you really call it being frugal when you have no money to spend? Yup, it's reached an interesting new low. Allow me to provide a better update from my last blog, and don't mind that it was largely copied and pasted:

- Still have no job

- Have next to no money

- Have yet to receive an acceptance letter from any of the Universities to which I applied

Hope is definitely something I wish could be abandoned more easily. More often than not in recent months, I've tempered hope with an ever looming sense of despair. "I'm hopeful for this to come to pass" become "it probably won't happen." An opportunity for employment that I'm very, very excited about, which has yet to be entirely closed off to me, is a real life example of this. Reading the preferred requirements, I didn't think I had much of a chance, but with every bit of contact and dialogue between them (the employer) the sparking embers of hope increased in brightness and gave the impression of becoming a blaze.

Of course, the objective fueling my hope never came to fruition, so here I sit, mentally coming back up from the crash that followed the high. Yeah, I'm in one hell of a bad lately. Bad enough that everything seems tainted, even my beloved Bareman's. Even my Special Lady Friend is incorporated into a stressful situation: I have no job, so I have no money. I have no money for frivolity, so I can't take my Special Lady Friend out. Altogether, I'm one broke ass bitch with no end to my woes in sight.

Not that I haven't been trying to find employment, but it's not that simple these days. At least, it isn't that simple for me. Without running the mental gamut of emotions by listing off all the places to which I applied - unsuccessfully - for employment, be aware that I have done so to many; many of which haven't even yielded so much as an interview. From the ridiculously unpleasant jobs to the very desired jobs, nothing. 

Relating to my waning sense of faith and loss of hope, there is also an incredible loss of self esteem inherent. It raises a very important and primal question: "what am I doing wrong?" Am I filling out the applications incorrectly? Am I not following up soon or often enough? Do I just suck at the interviewing process? Is there a tattoo screaming "DO NOT HIRE THIS LOSER" on my damn forehead?!?!

I'm aware of the job market and how, if a job opens up, that there are multitudes of applicants many of which that satisfy more than just the minimum requirements for the job. Yet, when it happens over and over and over, you begin to lose a lot more than just patience. Enough rejection and you might begin to lose a bit of sanity, among other things.

Stay Tuned my Andyvillians, I'll quit being Emo someday soon.

How To Suck At Life

Thoughts are all over the place, but writer's block is a bitch. Updates will be kept brief, until I have something more optimistic to report:

- Still have no job

- Have next to no money

- Have yet to receive an acceptance letter to any of the Universities to which I applied

Yep, that's pretty much it. Those sad tidbits and being very, VERY bummed out that I didn't get to San Diego Comic Con. And they had to drop the Man of Steel trailer in Hall H too! ARGH!!!

Saving money will be paramount once the job is finally lined up. Reason one, I want to have an impressive savings. Reason two, I want to begin working on a tattoo, the general idea of which is shown below.

However, I want elements of the tree from "The Fountain" around it, and I also want the limbs and roots to wrap all around my shoulders and legs respectively. For those who haven't seen "The Fountain," I'll include a pic below.

Stay tuned Boppers...

Tech Free Tuesday & Thursday: Aftermath

Tech Free Tuesday and Thursday has come and gone, and not without a few hiccups. However, they were both a successful learning experiences. Having thought a great deal about the motivation behind the days, I'm likely to amend things a bit, as I feel that I can still embrace certain forms of technology with next to no guilt.

Tuesday began with a small dilemma. Upon waking up, I realized I forgot to clarify the checking of emails, which I ended up doing on my iPod. Justification that I may receive an email from a potential employer, a reasoning that I'll hold to in future Tech Free days, as long as I'm looking for work anyway. That being said, not finding any emails from potential employers, I left my email to continue accumulating as the day passed (it would the same for Thursday).  Throughout the day, I used my laptop for job search related efforts and nothing more. My Kindle was used, but only because I felt the intense urge to finish the book I was reading. In the future I'll read from my old fashioned stack of "real" books.  The Kindle is arguably a "Greener" option anyway, but that topic is for another time.

Long story short, no television was watched, only work related business was conducted on any laptop, no video games were played, nor did I use my cell phone; in short, I was very pleased with the day.

Tech Free Thursday was very much the same, however, there was one very major difference from Tuesday to Thursday; I had nothing to do all day on Thursday. Tuesday I was kept busy, but by the waning hours of Thursday, I felt the urge to begin a write up of my experiences of the two days. Using the excuse that I'm not sitting idle, that I'm doing something productive so maybe I was wrong to totally abstain from my laptop, as far as writing is concerned.

Wouldn't ya' know, however, that irony would make an appearance this evening, likely as punishment for cutting off my Tech Free Thursday by two hours. Nearly finished with my write up, I - or the ghost in the machine - caused the site to reload, which normally wouldn't be a problem but in this case the site failed to save the document at regular intervals. All that work down the drain, and why? Stupid technology...

A small amendment I'd like to make is the reluctance in using my laptop for writing purposes. Yes, I can resort to pencil and paper, but I'd eventually like to make the transition from paper to digital copy anyway. Also, I write impeccably slow, so there is the feeling of time lost when I write the old fashioned way (more the reason to practice handwriting perhaps). In short, I'm an intensely more productive writer with good ole' technology at my finger tips.

My ultimate goal of the Tech Free Days was achieved. I wanted to spend less time connected and more time in thoughtful contemplation. Conversation with friends prior, during, and even following (the first day) yielded more positive feelings of worth and a reduction in the sense of stagnant inertia. Technology's fault it is not, but nor do I think this is a bad thing to embrace. While I may, in future Tech Free Days, open the door to using my laptop for writing purposes, I might do so with a price. Even hiding from social sites might not happen completely, but similarly only after a condition is met. Conditions such as a heavy limit of the time spent and a time in the day when it's allowed. Perhaps only after 9pm and only then if I've achieved a set aside number of goals and tasks for the day. Though I can better spend the time wasted on Facebook with my nose in a book or my lips smooching up on my Special Lady Friend.

Disconnecting Myself

It's not the Matrix that has us...

The Matrix could serve as a large source of allegory upon which to draw for this blog. Indeed the pic above is double entendre* to the motivating thoughts behind the movement of my chubby lil' digits, two major lines of thought specifically. The first, is centered on the notion that we, the masses, are far too dependent on technology for our own good. Addicted might be an even better word. The second thought is more of a sub-thought rather than a stand alone idea. As I highlight just how I'll sever my connectedness, I'll even seek to make small changes that will benefit Mother Earth.

*Before I move on, if you read entendre as "en-ten-dray," please leave this blog. Granted, I won't know if you did or not, but this is an honor system approach. Were I to hear you say it aloud, I'd single you out and make fun of you...at great length.  

Wishing to avoid becoming too verbose, I'll just get right to it and tell you my ideas/plans. 

Starting tomorrow, Tuesday, I plan to initiate what I call Tech Free Tuesdays & Thursdays. During these days I'll do my best to avoid using any sort of technology. No video games, no cell phones, no iPods, no computer (beyond job searches), and no television. There are other items that I'm sure would very much fit in the category of tech-that-ought-not-be-used, but I can't remember or am on the fence with cutting them out. My Amazon Kindle, for example, is up in the air. It's not so fancy a Kindle that I can check emails or surf the web. All I can do on it is read.

In line with not completely cutting out my Kindle, there are some other objects that I wonder about. Radios for example? It's tech, but music isn't really a bad thing. Which leads to my iPod, which I use most frequently to listen to music, but also has other applications. An older iPod (classic) might be used, which has the sole function of music, but now I feel like I'm wheeling and dealing and trying to beat the system I haven't finished creating.

Tomorrow I'll likely wing it, and attempt a more strict observance of my idea. In what I'd like to involve some friends is the interpretation of what is permissible tech and what is not. Should I go strict Amish lifestyle or are there cases, like my Kindle, that could be bent. Remember, my goal is largely two fold: I want to disconnect myself and not feel anchored to technology for a couple days a week; I also want to feel as if my efforts are somewhat green and have a positive, albeit small, impact on the environment. Offering advice, however, focus more on the first point of what is permissible tech and what is not.

Items for Consideration

• Laptop 'Puter
• Televisions and associated devices
  
• iPod
• Cell Phone
• Kindle e-Reader
• Radios
• Share other items on your melons
  

Memorial Day ≠ National Grilling Day (or Death: the Great Equalizer)

Those of you who know me well probably understand that I wasn't overly enthusiastic about my time in service. Mentally it wore me down, and I view it as somewhat of a failure. Though in retrospect, I wished I had been able to remain stronger and make more of my time in service.

Acknowledging that, however, I have nothing but respect for any man or woman that lifts their hand to take the oath of enlistment, binding them to military service for an agreed on number of years. These service men and women offer up their lives, whether fate sees fit to take them up on that offer is another story. Not that it matters what kind of person they are in my mind; they put their lives on the line for a cause that is not their own. Perhaps they're driven by motivations of the GI Bill or family legacy or maybe it's just a last ditch effort to feel as if they're on the road to somewhere.

Regarding a conversation (of sorts) with a friend this Friday afternoon, I had to walk away from it because of some of things he said. He vented some of his frustrations with several things, the military being one of them. Agreeing with several of his statements and disagreeing with several others, I was very alarmed at a comment he made concerning veterans, both living and dead.

Largely a copying and pasting of the conversation, I won't say his real name, and I'll only begin it with his final statement:

My Friend:
"So I'm sure you think I'm a piece of shit now?"

Me:
 "No, I don't think you're a piece of shit at all. I do, however, take issue with your opinions and statements concerning veterans. Even the soldiers with whom I hated serving deserve an ounce of respect. Why? Because they raised their hand in an act that very well could mean their death. Maybe the reason for joining was shitty even, but the still joined. It's not easy to offer your life and a majority of your legal freedoms to another organization.

Even regarding the soldiers whose minds were warped enough to think the wars were just I pity even more. I pity them because only in death can they possibly see the error of their ways/thoughts.

Regarding death (and bodies and graves): Death is the great equalizer. Osama Bin Laden (may his memory be erased) is likely reaping the results of the misery he has sown. Who knows, maybe he has even had a change of heart and now regrets so many of the actions he has taken in life. Like Jacob Marley in "A Christmas Carol" expressed, Osama Bin Laden wears "the chain" he forged in his life. Link by link, he left behind a legacy that will forever eclipse any good he may have done. 

That being said, I don't view disrespecting the bodies or graves of even the enemies something to be of the civilized world. Without condoning or condemning, I can somewhat understand those actions, but not agree in any way that they're positive in the least."

Often I like to take a moment to express my appreciation and admiration for our men and women in uniform. To them I offer these words:

God Bless you and keep you safe. May you come home as heroes to your family and community, but most importantly may you just come home. May you reach an understanding similar to my own, but even if you don't, please shake another veteran's hands and let them know that they're appreciated. Whether you be a fighter on land, air or sea, you have my love and respect. My greatest sorrow is that you'll never be on the receiving end of such words, that you'll forever be the one "who gave all."

 

An Arby's Haiku 4 You!

Hungry for Arby's,

Not as large as I expected, but significant, to be sure.

Scared of eating finger,
Taco Bell Instead?

Expanding my knowledge base of the what is the Arby's Finger scandal of 2012, I read on twitter some news concerning the latest developments of the investigation into the incident. There's an estimated 3-4 sandwiches made prior to the worker reporting their finger being cut on the slicer. Having briefly worked at an Arby's, I can testify to the sandwich station being an extremely fast paced area of the store, but it's unreal to me that it would have gone unnoticed that blood and a chunk of finger were now in the meat.


While I'm not overly concerned, and I'm certain I'm not alone in that my appetite for Arby's is, at the moment, significantly diminished, I'm actually more forgiving than my general attitude might convey. Yes, it's a gross lack of attention to detail and professionalism that has allowed this incidence to occur. Yes, it's unfortunate that this young teen is probably going to think about that finger for some time, though possibly this might make him more aware of his food from now on. It's also unfortunate that Arby's is likely going to face some serious scrutiny from many a direction, some unjustified in my opinion.

Brings me to my point of today's mini-rant: my father, in response to mentioning the number of elapsed sandwiches, related to me that the mother of the *victimized* youth is considering legal action and is speaking with legal counsel; I drew attention to the word victimized for a reason.

You've likely seen this youth, in a photo, if you've followed the story with even a mild amount of interest. He appears to be an average looking youngster, as much as I can gather from a simple photo, and I certainly see no indication that he's a deviant child in any shape or form. His smirking in the photo suggests to me, assuming the photo was taken post incident, that he's in relatively good spirits in the wake of his brush with all to real finger food. Even his comments, though this could be media influenced, seem to mild mannered and not of a person that is particularly distraught in any way.

Why then, and on what grounds, is the mother seeking to sue? If in fact she is intending to sue, whom will she sue? On what grounds is something what's on my mind. Remembering my attention to the word victimized, I can't see how he was victimized. It certainly wasn't an intended action against him, and it's unlikely that he's contracted any sickness or disease from this small piece of flesh, something which a couple medical experts have already testified as being extremely unlikely that anything harmful was transmitted from such a small piece of flesh.

Might the mother argue the health infectious angle, that he might have been infected by something? Perhaps an emotional or mental angle? Claim he hasn't been able to eat or sleep since the incident? Something else entirely? My limited mind, especially limited in the realm of legal knowledge, can't conceive of a way that the case could hold any validity. Arby's has to answer for this occurrence, but are they answerable to this woman and her son, at least in a legal sense? As a display of good form, I think Arby's would benefit from making amends by way of a small sum of money or something to recompense the boy for his troubles.

Of course, the variable I haven't yet fully acknowledged is the legal counsel. In ways that I can't fathom, I'm sure the lawyer with whom she's in contact is able to contrive a reason that will stand on some solid ground. Crooked bastards....

For the remainder of the day, I'll continue to apply for employment at places I view as beneath me, await acceptance from an institution of higher learning, and possibly even read a little bit. All the while feeling very much like a deformed being with my swollen face caused by a sinus infection. Maybe in a few days I'll write more about myself and/or important. In fact, I sort of want to address television and other distractions to human creativity, things that take us away from realizing our own potentials.

Numb...

Know what's special about this image? Nothing. There is nothing significant about it at all. It says nothing to me. It isn't touching some deep part of my soul that I'm almost brought to tears. I just pulled out my camera yesterday and took a pic. No reason at all, but hoped that maybe I'd think of something to write concerning that pic. However, nothing comes to mind concerning this pic, as I've mentioned before.

Perhaps your more discerning eye can find something to evoke a little more emotion. The contrast in light might remind you of approaching summertime, with memories of sitting under welcome shade while the sun beats down. A tasty iced tea in hand, though maybe you'd rather it be an ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, which leads me to another idea of summertime involving BBQ and beer. Maybe even a game at the park - local or Comerica - which can help us appreciate the warmer months of summer. Of course, maybe you're looking at the girl in the green top walk across the street and thinking of summer time and the droves of women wearing little to no clothing (depending on the venue). 

Maybe you can see these things, and obviously so can I see those things in my own pic, but I've been feeling very little joy these past couple days and weeks. I need a job. I need to know where I'll be in the fall and remainder of my schooling. I need some sort of re-balancing of mental chemistry. I need time to become comfortable in my own skin and I sure as hell need relief from my own mental anal retentive obsessions. 

I need a job. Believe it or not, I've been casting a wide net, though I haven't yet tuned that net to lower end jobs (McD's, Wendy's, etc..).Technically, I have a job but for whatever stupid reason, my boss decided to passive aggressively get rid of me by not scheduling me any hours at all. He didn't fire me, has on occasion told me he'll put me on the schedule, and constantly denied anything other than budget reasons for not giving me more hours. Consequently, with every additional job to which I apply, I have an incredible urge to punch him. Sucks too, because as much as I've been putting my name out there filling out apps and sending out my resume (too lazy to include accent marks now), nothing has been aligning the way it should. Not that I expect to land the perfect job right away, but a bit of good fortune would be nice.

My (hopefully) final semester at JCC has ended, with an incredible amount of stress near the end. I'm waiting on word from an institution of higher learning to accept me with open arms, though a letter expressing that I don't completely suck and they'll take me would be appreciated. 

Mentally I'm at odds with myself. On one hand I have the great Phanny B and on the other hand I have me. Believe me, as powerful a force in my mind, heart and soul that Phanny B is, my own neurotic tendencies are equally formidable. Years of building them up and being added to by a number of unfortunate circumstances; layer upon layer upon layer of stupidity - both of external and internal sources. I've created many of my own problems, but some have just fallen my way. 

Counseling would help, I should think. Some pill popping might be in order even. Not that I want to resort to medications, but things just might be so out of sorts up top that I need a little help. I certainly can't hold it against anyone for wanting reduced symptoms at nearly any cost. 

Depending on what you're getting out of this, I'm either messed up or just ducky. I'll agree to both. Things are right in the world one day, and chaotic and distressing the next. Today, for example, I didn't want to see anyone, not even Phanny. I did see her, and I even had a little fun with her. I hope she wasn't too brought down my own negativity, however, because even having fun wasn't enough to completely remove the mood of gloom.

How do you tell someone like Phanny that you want a day or two to be to yourself? I've thought I'd be able to convey it before, but I have a problem doing just that. I'm too worried that she won't understand the need or that she'll be offended by not being able to see me (or help me) that day. How do you tell someone that you don't want to see anyone, including them and even yourself? 

Call me out for not really loving her if you want, because maybe you're right. Then again, maybe I'm normal and you're just not honest with yourself and your partner. There are days when I don't even want to see me or be me, so wanting days where I don't see a single person is appealing to me, every once in a while.

Largely I'm just going through a lull right now. I'm numb and I feel oddly betrayed my so many different people and entities. So many things I can just brush off my shoulder, but in the past few years I've felt as if the fates are pushing my buttons by heaping extraordinarily large numbers of petty things on me. Very things major, but one minor thing after another and another keep befalling me, and I'm growing tired of it happening. Once in a spell, it's something bigger than usual.

Fuck me...I'm such an emo turd. I'm done. Maybe tomorrow or the next day I'll write a more humorous diatribe relating my irritation with presidential election year.

So long my Andy-villians!

Can't we all just get along?

In the realm of politics, perhaps, Martin Lawrence's catchphrase "can't we all just get along" has found it's best application. Just because I'm an advocate of the right to bear arms does not mean that I'm a 'publican. Likewise, because I support the ability for a woman to choose to have an abortion does not make me a liberal, tree-hugging hippie. Well, maybe I like to hug trees, but that's only because we need to take better care of Mother Earf and so should everyone else for that matter.

Not that I really want to talk politics. I'm not apolitical, mind you, but I have a very strong set of opinions and, like my dingle berry encrusted anus, I prefer to keep such things to myself.

No, I'm very much like the Tubby Buddha (whom really isn't Buddha at all); a man of the people who is eager to enjoy and indulge in many of life's finer things. I keep friends in both high and low places so that I can reach the greatest number of people, and in doing so teach people a thing or two. Hell, I might even learn a thing or two while I'm about my business.

So while others dwell on a political system of voting for whoever is going to fuck us over less, I opt to keep focused on smaller, though no less grand things. However, if you know just exactly what is pictured above, you know it can tear a town apart nearly as much as any number of differences in political ideology:

Jackson Coney Island Hot Dogs

Not to be intolerant, but if you think Virginia's has the best to offer in Jackson, please leave my blog. You don't have to stop reading, of course, but both your taste and intelligence are now suspect. Consider Andy's Pizza the best or even second best in town then you can straight away go to Hell. I would rather drink cold coffee filtered through Snooki's herpes peppered asshole than eat a Coney from Andy's Pizza.

Like that? Snooki's herpes peppered asshole? Grosses me out too, and I wouldn't doubt it. She's a dirty one that girl, though girl is subjective. Oompa Loompa is a bit more accurate, which I'm not sure they even have genders. Makes me wonder: do Oompa Loompas reproduce asexually?

Moving on....

So, here we are, talking about a tried and true recipe for something both gross and still a culinary masterpiece at the same time. I say gross, because if you've ever smelled a Coney Island Hot Dog, it's not that dissimilar from a teenage boy's aromatic armpit after a long day at the sandlot in summertime after a weekend at Cedar Point. Sounds putrid doesn't it? Make you want to sink your teeth into one right now?

Despite being able to clear out a room, the odd clashing of flavors - and it has to be a cheap, "made from lips and assholes" hot dog - finds their way comfortably into our memories. The wonderfully seasoned beef heart that makes up the sauce, the lil' fresh onions diced on top, and a thin blanket of mustard to spruce it up; all of this on a cheap bun and dog culminate into an experience much like Spam. And like Spam, you either hate it or will defend it with your life and testify that it is as important a part of your life as a parent or a cousin are parts of your life. 

The formula can be messed with too. Try some 'kraut on your next Coney. A glass of chocolate milk works as well, odd though that it may sound. Blasphemously put some ketchup if you dare, for it does taste good on occasion. Hell, you can even get it in the form of a pizza, which is a perfect time to mention the Jackson establishment that believe has the very best Coney Island Hot Dogs in town: Jaxon Pizza Factory.

On the corner of Waterloo and North St, Jaxon Pizza Factory serves up a variety of dishes. None so mightily as satisfying as their pizza and their Coney Dogs, which are still only $1. Never have they disappointed me with their Coney Dogs, and certainly I cannot recall them experimenting with something other than beef heart being used in the Coney sauce (I'm looking at you Virginia's). 

Of course, I can rant and rave, but it's ultimately your own gustatory discernment that will decide your favorite. Give 'em a go. Go eat some Coney's at any number of places we have in town, for I do the same on a regular basis. 

I will, however, always view Jaxon Pizza Factory as the end-all of Coney's in the great Coney debate.

Sunday Morning Fruity Haikus About Laverne

Me (the Andy Beau):
Vernie is snow white,
With brown around her cute eyes,
She teaches happiness! 


My Niece (The Geesh):
A big fat hog dog,
Who sleeps all the day away,
With cute little paws.


Mama Gouche (the mom):
Vernie, a dog you see,
Means the world to you and me,
Vernie, the best there is.

"No Honey, that dress doesn't make you look fat at all."

Don't expect an overly deep, thought provoking read, I'm just getting back into the swing of it. I rather miss putting my words to a literary format, so here I am. Follow if you'd like, or don't. No skin off my ass.

Last night I confessed to someone a particular lie that I'd been allowing to go for some time. Not just a single lie either, but a series of lies. It would have felt better had the confession not been prompted by a little liquid courage, but it still felt good to get off my chest. This particular lie had been building and building. To the people who are not privileged to the truth, I feel as if I'm surrounding them in a fire as I feed one lie after another to protect them from the truth.

Who am I really protecting, however? Them...or me? I think the fire that I've been feeding with the vast number of lies are eventually going to blaze out of control and burn me, badly. When the truth comes out to the people I'd most like to know, I can't imagine it will be well received. Never have I been a fan of playing my close friends and family for fools, and when they learn, it'll be a blow to the trust that exists between us.

Sucks doesn't it? Getting caught up in lies? Knowing at some point you have to 'fess up is not a pleasant thing. Truth be told, I can think of a thousand more pleasant things than coming clean: having my nipples pierced again; having a tooth drilled without novocaine; hell, I might even be willing to experiment with fiberglass anal beads in exchange for not having to own up to shit. Okay, maybe not...

Brings to mind further thoughts, such as when is lying an okay thing? Can it be justifiable? And I'm not talking about telling a girl--- that she looks great when in fact she looks less pretty than a one-toothed, syphilitic hooker's asshole. 

Now that I'm considering how unpleasant the previously mentioned asshole must really look, I'm gonna move on to better and brighter things. Maybe not brighter, but different things. I might even draw this to a close. My main focus was getting the fingers moving and let the synapses start firing again. The majority of my current classes allow for very little variation in the way of creative thinking. Oddly enough, the most creativity inducing class I'm enrolled is an intro to probability and statistics class in which I'm fantasizing about all sorts of torture I'd rather endure.

Well, for those of you, my beloved Andy-villians, that have lasted through my tedious prattle, I thank you. It's time for some serious sleep. Expect the next post to be a bit more descriptive and enlightening, or perhaps not. Who knows?

Ma'ma said there'd be days like this.....

Right now I feel very much like a plague ridden, bubonic encrusted leper. Wrong description perhaps, but I can't breathe for shit right now, and I would kill a whole gaggle of bitches in order to save myself this bit of stress. Maybe I'd burn down an orphanage, two even. Were both nostrils as congested as the one is, I'd burn down every single orphanage on Earf (yes, EARF) in order to relieve myself of this ailment.

Still, I try and maintain a semblance of positivity, despite it being difficult right now, thanks to this cold/allergy issue I'm experiencing. Cue the pic above, which gave me a hell of a smile. Brings to mind a question: "what mundane things would you do had you the Force as your ally? Wash dishes? Mop the floor? Fold laundry? Maybe help secure yourself a spot on your city's NBA team, WOW'ing the crowds with your incredible Three Point sinking skills?

Feeling very at odds with myself. Choices have been made that I regret one moment, and have full confidence in the next moment. Self doubt from a year of depression lingers, and I'm scared of the immediate future. The past becomes the future I've heard, and right now I'm watching my past strongly become my future.

How can I fight this I ask myself? How can I turn things around to give me the necessary confidence that things won't turn to shit as they have in the past? Things seem to be heading in the right direction at the moment, but let's see if that holds; let's see if stuff will continue looking up.

Something that is mind numbing is the progression of my thoughts from thinking "that people are inherently good" to "people are inherently selfish animals." I want to think the best of people, but I've been shit on by people that ought to have been taking care of me. The Army warped me and shit on me. Dept heads at a school I'm attending have shit on me. My boss at work has been slowly handing my the shit end of the stick, despite me busting my ass while on the clock and getting the damn job done.

There are some examples of people that are very good people. Phanny B for example is a good person; so good even that makes me nervous. My parents have been nothing but good, but I've never thought otherwise in that case. Family is generally good, but if I wasn't family, would they still be as good to me? I think they would, but you can never be too sure.

Ah well.....on to more superficial things.

Tattoos are therapy to me. Not that I don't have enough work already, but I'm getting the itch for even more. Not a random, off the wall of flash selection, but one that I've been planning for some time. For example, I've want to start a massive tree I've been planning for a few years now. It'll stretch from left shoulder to lower right thigh and be the kind of piece that makes your eyes pop a little bit. Pictured below is a bit of a rough sketch of my idea. Ignore the chub if you would, heh.

Pretty neat idea, don't you agree? Nowhere near as expansive as what I have in mind, but you get an idea. Have to work with the four wise men across my upper back, but that was always my intention as well.

Well, I'm a little bored of writing, and I've got stuff to cross of my to-do list. I'll catch up again sooner or later.

Ta-ta for now.

Wants, Wishes, Dreams, and Desires for 2012

As another year ends, so shall another begin. What does 2012 have in store for me? Shall I grab this non-literal bull by the horns and have my way with it? Perhaps make a long list of resolutions, most of which will not be fulfilled. Even fill up my Facebook news feed how certain I am that 2012 will be greatly improved over the year preceding? Nah....I don't think I will.

What are my general wishes for the year, might you wonder? General mind you, not specific. For starters, I'd like for Phanny and I to continually grow together and improve on the relationship that has been not only a surprise but a very heartwarming, exciting thing. Additionally, I'd like for my overall luck to improve to the point where I am once again able to brush things off as if they were nothing more than a leaf on my shoulder. Situations to improve I'd also like: financial, academic, car, weight and so on.

Using the weight angle, I intend on continuing with Yoga and further workouts. It'll cost a fair amount, but it'll be worth it. Having been to several already, I can't wait for more. My body, while feeling very worked over immediately post class, is in celebration walking out of the studio. Already I feel as though it has done my back wonders, not to mention my mind and soul. It's (my body/back) improved enough that I felt more than able to go through an entire 5K prep workout without having to cut it short. Not that I didn't want to cut it short, but I didn't. With Phanny B I believe I'll meet my workout goals, but I can also see Bill and Annay aiding me in this. Bill and I like to hit up the Cascades from time to time and beat feet. Annay and I keep having delusions of running grandeur, so she better get that knee brace so we can start looking sexay again.

School....where to start? I'm at a point where I no longer truly want nursing. Correction: I still want nursing, but I'm strongly desiring other things to want as well. Writing and education are back at the forefront of my professional desires, and I'm at a point where I intend to make a move towards those different goals, the time is now. It's frightening, however, to entertain thoughts like that. To hold a goal in your mind and heart for so long, then consider a goal not even related to that original goal, that's scary shit. Where I'm at in that decision I'll not say, but hold it in for a touch longer.

Moving on with another wish for this year, I want to get a handle on my anxiety. I'm tired of irrational fears to hold such a strong sway over me. Often I can't pinpoint from where those fears originate. I have my CDO tendencies, but I don't see those as causing panic attacks. Whatever it is, I want to get help and move on.

Less important wants and wishes for the year include: attending San Diego ComiCon; acquiring a Canon T3 ES-F DSLR camera; tattoo work; and various other little things. I'd like to visit Chicago again, and do so with more friends too. Several shows are on the wish list too, as well as several accessories for my motorcycle.

Pretty generic, non-interesting thoughts, aren't they? No big deal. They're my wants and wishses. Nothing more. I suppose they're written for me and not anyone else, so, again, no biggie.