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.

"JOHN WAYNE DIED WITH 5LBS...

...of undigested red meat in his ass! Now that's a man!"

Commenting earlier to someone else's blog, I decided to take my comment and run with it. Create my own blog and let some thoughts rattle off. The stuff in the quotes is the original comment:

"Clowns have always been something dear to me. No, I do not have a vast collection of paintings, dolls, figurines or anything else of that nature. I just like clowns, what they represent. To me, a clown is a parody of real life that lets you look at life and see how silly it all is. Through a clown's antics, you can see how we all are really, as a people - a species - struggling to make our way through life, and make ourselves happy along the way.

It's a unique thing, that we as part of the animal kingdom possess the awareness to desire happiness. As I look down at my dog Laverne, I realize that she seeks comfort, but will she go to the same lengths to secure happiness for herself or others? Maybe she will.....but to the same degree as a human? Does she just revel in comfort and happiness when it is to be had, or is she like us in that we think we *deserve* happiness?"

Bringing it back to clowns.....what do you do when the clown is projecting a false image for others? His main passion is in making others smile and laugh, but what happens when that isn't enough? What happens when the happiness of others is no longer enough to determine the clown's inner emotions? How can the clown help others pick themselves back up when he can't do it himself? Hmm?

Yes.....I'm thinking that I'm that clown right about now. I try and hold my shit together, but lately I feel like the storm is winning; the storming is beating me down and in losing the battle I feel like I'm a failure in other areas.

Sometimes I just want to surrender and give up, but only sometimes. I don't always have the strength to fight back, but I have the patience to weather the storm. "This too shall pass" is a rallying cry for me right now. Maybe I'll need some meds to help me through it, and maybe my mind will just right itself. I hope so....I'm tired of feeling like an emotional little turd.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-vrWrfCrwE

No, I don't really think this is true, but it makes me laugh.

Sacrifices

Yes, I am one of the faithful, which doesn't seem to be a very fashionable thing in many circles, but I roll with the Lord anyway. I am aware of why so many people are disenchanted with so many Christians, and frankly, so am I. Too many break a very fundamental lesson imparted to us by the the big J.C. himself: "Judge not, lest ye' be judged."

What really slays me is that many of the these people will defend themselves - repeatedly - claiming they aren't judging at all, merely pointing out - repeatedly - what is in scripture. Sure, remind someone every day that they're going to hell, and it that isn't judging at all. That's assuming they are in tune with the mind of God personally, and that he is incapable of changing his mind from what was written down nearly two thousand years ago. Some even forget other fundamental lessons in scripture: "They who are without sin may cast the first stone," and "one should seek to remove the plank from their own eye before they try to remove the speck from their neighbor's eye." Not exact translations, but I'm not in the mood to look it up for exactness. You get the point I hope.

Not that this is meant to be preachy, but today is Ash Wednesday. And today marks the beginning of the 40 days of Lent; a time for many things, sacrifice included. Though sometimes I often commit to doing certain acts or task instead of/in combination with giving things up, this year I'm focusing on the sacrificial side of Lent.

What I'm giving up this Lent:
- Pizza that is not homemade (and buying a frozen pizza to bake at home doesn't count)
- Pizza like things: i.e. Marco's Cheese Bread, and so on
- Potatoes; most especially mashed potatoes and french fries, stuff I don't like but will gorge on
- Alcohol aside from Saint Patty's Day
- I'm also going to limit the amount of Pop I drink, not a major deal, but I do drink too much

Yes, they're all food/drink items, but they're stuff I eat or drink with reckless abandon if in front of me. Potatoes will have some leeway as well, but things like french frieds or mashed potatoes could be swapped out for cole slaw or a house salad. Pizza, particularly "hot and ready" from Little Caesar's, is a curse. I'll easily kill a half of the pizza in a sitting, sometimes more.

Dietary sacrifices, but if you know, you'll know that it will take some strength. And if I can stick to it, I'll have won a small battle against the bulge. I'll have defeated several of my food weaknesses. Now....if only I could cure myself of the love of bacon and Bareman's chocolate milk. Won't happen any time soon, but they're not really a problem. I don't abuse them anyway.

PMS strong enough for her, but pH balanced for him.

I'm really experiencing a "fuck the world" moment. Not that the world has pissed me off, but today I slowly felt my mood deteriorate into something less than my optimistic self. At this point, I really don't even care about other's problems. I'm in a shitty mood; pure, unalterable shitty.

The Pee Wee pic made me smile, but only for a moment.

Okay, correction, I still feel for other people, and knowing they're not in the best place would take a toll on me. Yet, the most alarming thing is that I think, right now, I'd still pass on helping someone else tonight in favor of wallowing in self pity.

Demolished orphanages in Kenya? Not my problem. Homeless on the streets dying in the cold? Get back to me tomorrow. How about a friend in serious need of some love? Maybe, but I might not even answer the phone, or I'd try and weasel my way out of it to not confront their problem.
*sigh*

There are things I can and need to do. Life could be made better on so many different levels. Yet, I feel unable to commit to the changes that would make my life more golden.

If I could paint a picture, what would it look like? A person in traction perceiving themselves as crippled, surrounded by people in various activities: talking on a phone, bicycling, feeding a baby, working on a book, building a shed, laughing with friends at dinner running a marathon...all around me, and me wanting to participate but unable to exact movement because I feel lacking in the ability to move. That's one thought....

Get at me in a day or three..."it can't rain all the time"...

Lent is almost upon us and I always take it to heart to do something to test me personally, as much as something to sacrifice for God. My thoughts on this year:
- Drink no beer or alcohol for 40 days....
- Eat no pizza or pizza like food for 40 days....
- Eat no fries for 40 days....
- Walk no less than 1 mile a day for 40 days....
- Meditate for ten minutes a day for 40 days....

Ultimately, these are all sacrifices geared towards my own benefit....but is that so bad? Cure myself so I'll be better able to help others?

An Andy Beau Original

"Life is neither good nor bad; life just is. When life is good we forget to feel it with the appreciative attitude we should, because, and mark these words, bad times will come. And when the bad times come, give them a wide berth, for even they are somewhat beneficial in that they help us appreciate the good times that we've had and will likely have again."

A status update that I wanted to post in blog form.

Not all who wander are lost...

...nor do all who are lost wander.

Not sure where to begin...my life has been rather uneventful of late. Sure, there have been some good damn times and some damn good laughs, but I'm also coming off a serious financial set back of sorts. I guess money really does make the world go 'round.

I don't really believe that, of course. What makes the world go 'round is a mystery to me. That's not to say I don't have ideas, or thoughts on the matter, but I largely live in a different world. When faced with reality, my mind retreats in a realm of fantasy where everyone is positive and cheerful and happy-go-lucky and so on. Where people can walk up and hug another person that looks on the verge of tears, without having a PPO against them shortly thereafter.

Maybe it's fluctuating levels of hormones. Perhaps it's the depression I've been in for the better part of a decade receding and letting the light back into my life. Perhaps I'm manic depressive, which as an option hasn't even been eliminated. Not that I really think or know I am; I've never talked to anyone, not professionally/therpeutically anyway.

But I digress.

After a solid month of it, the 365 project is going strong, if not at times as excitingly as I want it to go. I will finish what I have started, but there are other projects I have going that I have not been as dedicated towards. Exercise is one of them. Sleep pattern is another. Healthier food choices...is yet another.

It's odd....there is so much yearning in my mind, body and soul for cleanliness. By "cleanliness" I mean that I want to embrace a strong, assertive and more positive lifestyle and maintain. I want to "walk the walk" I can see in my dreams and thoughts. I want to be in control of my life as much as I can be in control. I want to be able to look back one day, or a week, or a month at a time, and say "have I lived my life in such a way that I'm pleased with myself?"

Not that I don't please myself these days (despite sounding very wrong, I'm leaving that as is). In fact, my life is full of good things and good times. I have friends with whom I love spending time; family too. I get out, in spite of being a bit poor right now, and I find things to do.

Stagnation is one of the many sources of my despair, yet it's so hard to change when you find yourself unable to act. That'll be for another blog though. Find the words to convey the inability and fear of action is disconcerting and something for which I'm not really in the mood.

Classes are passably enjoyable, but It'll be a short while before I'm where I want to be.

Spring Break is around the corner, and I'm desperately in need of somewhere to go. Just get out of the city and maybe even away from the cold for a while. Florida would be nice, but I can deal with somewhere that doesn't have snow. Jamaica would be even better, but the money conflict comes into play.

Thinking back on "Love"...

In the past half a year, I've been strongly considering a forearm tattoo. Not just any ole' tattoo, but the word "Love" on my arm, inspired by "To Write Love On Your Arm Day" fame. Not that I need it, not is it simple decision to commit to! I've been avoiding forearm tattoos for years! Never thought I'd want one, but this one I do, or at least I think I do.

Seriously, how bad would it be to have the word "Love" tattooed and very visible? Easily covered, but who would it really scare off?

Speaking of love, Valentine's Day is around the corner, nor is it a day that I'm particularly excited about. It's largely a crap day invented and popularized by commercial entities, to help bring up sales of chocolates and jewelry and so during this lull experienced after the Christmas season.

Yes, I'm aware that there is a historical allusions as to why this day is celebrated to the extent that it is, but I call bullshit. The hub-bub of Valentine's Day is as fake as a diamond ring is representing a happy marriage.

Why is it, that I could be a wonderful husband 364 days out of the year, but if I do not remember Valentine's Day, I somehow become an unromantic asshole?

My sisters - my FOUR sisters - have all expressed their lament at my less than conventional thoughts. They tell me that I"m an ass if I don't buy into Valentine's Day; that the girl I profess to love, will be hurt should I not observe the day by wasting money on overpriced themed gifts.

Am I an ass? Am I just being stubborn? I love the idea of romanticism, but I hate the idea of commercialism even more.

Next time, maybe I'll talk about how I have my eye on a lady or two, but lack the courage (for the moment) to say anything.

Fudge You 1 Corinthians 13:11!!!

Speaking with a deliciously awesome friend of mine, it has come to my attention that I am losing touch with an aspect of my youth that I'm not ready to let go: following through on the random urges to something silly. Things that you find the whimsical or childish people in films and books doing. "Luna Lovegood" from Harry Potter or "Clarisse" from Fahrenheit 451 know what I'm talking about ;)

Doing things for the sake of observing our own reactions. Trying new things for the sake of trying new things. Breaking the mold - or rules - for excitement's sake.

Going sledding at moment's notice (assuming we have snow), eating snowflakes, shedding clothing (and inhibitions) to skinny dip (or chunky dunk), dancing in the rain, playing board games intended for children, eating random foods for shock value, making midnight runs to the store for Kool-Aid or chocolate milk; and all those other things that I can't think of....these are things that you don't see grown ups do as often as teenagers.

To be a literal Willy Wonka or embrace Dr. Seuss' lessons; this is something I strive towards, but is it inevitably lost? Can I hold onto the sparkle of youth in my eye AND grow up?

Can y'all think of anything else? What's something stupid or youthful that you liked to do, but now find immature? Maybe you still like to do it....maybe you'd like to do it. Who knows....