[Not Really] Sorry.


Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Not a Lover or a Fighter

I'm sure if you go back far enough in my blog, I have used the phrase "I'm a lover, not a fighter." Upon further reflection, I have jumped to the conclusion that this is not the case at all in either instance. Why did this come up? I don't know. But I had to think about it for some reason.

I'm certainly not a lover. I don't love most things or most people. In fact, I'm generally not a fan of most anything. One of the benefits of being highly cynical and pessimistic is that everything sucks until proven otherwise. Being too trusting that everything is good until proven otherwise is just too hard. Most people suck. Most people are out to get something from you in some way. Someone wants you to buy their useless shit they are selling. Someone is trying to get information from you that you aren't willing to give. Someone is trying to use you for their personal gain. To that end, I can honestly say, I do not love most people.

"But Johnny, what do you mean by 'most things?' Isn't that a little ambiguous?" you ask.

Yes, it is ambiguous. By "things" I mean ambiguously covering the spectrum of life. Most material things suck. Sure there is a lot of stuff I want, but there is a whole lot more crap out there that just serves as junk to irritate humanity. Most situations suck. That's right, most situations suck. Got errands today? That sucks. Got to go to work when you'd rather be sleeping or spending time with people you like? That sucks. Got to deal with family you don't get along with? That sucks. I find that there is a highly dispropotional amount of suck than there is not. All of this falls into the category of "things," therefore they suck and I do not love them.

I'm not really a fighter either. I'm scrappy at best. I don't take a ton of shit, though I do take enough to save face. I'm capable of defending myself verbally and physically. But I'm hardly a fighter. I can't go out and pick fights. I have no illusions about how big of a guy I am. A guy with my frame and stature is more likely to get his ass kicked. I've always known that. I don't pick arguments since that's a waste of my time and efforts. I've got nothing to gain by it. So I guess I'm not a fighter either.

So where do I fall into? I don't love most things. I don't like to fight, though I'm capable of defending myself and if necessary being offensive. I would say I just fall into the category of "just some guy." It's the best neutral position anyone can take. You don't have the obligation of trying to love and find the best in things. You don't have to be known as the bad ass who can deliver a good beating. You just have to be "that guy." No one really knows too much about you, or where you stand on anything.

Now that I've answered your most pressing question about my stand on loving or fighting, you can now enjoy your Halloween.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Shallow-een

Halloween really isn't my favorite of holidays. I don't hate it but I can't say I really like it either. I do like how it makes people festive and fun over what is essentially a neutral topic (Unless you're one of those super crazy conservatives who still believes it's 1676 and Halloween represents celebrating witchcraft and satanism, and therefore is not a good holiday to celebrate.) I like that it's a holiday that is mostly centered around the idea of children having fun. I think it's great that we can all universally agree that it's a fun day for children to dress up, get free candy and form closer bonds with friends and family. I have several fond memories from this holiday. Long nights with my best friends getting as much candy as possible. Practically to the point of filling a body pillow case full most years. My dad would drive us around in his truck so we could speed trick or treat. We would sit on the tailgate while my dad drove us around to countless neighborhoods. Those were indeed fun times of which I am grateful for.

Now that I've grown into a bit of a stiff and boring adult, I can't bring myself to have fun with Halloween. I can't justify really getting into a costume just for the sake of it. Even if it is a party, I just have a hard time caring. While I do enjoy occasionally dressing up like a Star Trek geek, I feel forced and awkward to participate. Even with good friends and alcohol in the mix, I fail to really enjoy Halloween on the same levels as everyone else. I already wear a costume daily anyway. Every day I dress up as a competent, responsible adult who knows what he is doing. That costume is less than fun to wear. Besides that, I really just can't enjoy the holiday. The childhood splendor and magic is gone. Perhaps when I have kids of my own, that feeling will return when I take my own kids trick-or-treating like my dad did.

Most people try to argue that Halloween is the best or one of the best holidays of the year. The typical argument I hear from men is that women have that perfect excuse to dress in something that is practically near pornographic. Well that's all well and good, but I wouldn't say that makes the holiday alone that great. The typical argument I hear from women is that they just like dressing up, though not necessarily in something as sultry. Mostly, everyone just likes the parties. As an introverted hermit, I've never much cared for parties anyway or dressing up in costume. Seeing women in scantily clad costumes really doesn't do much for me other than make me mildly annoyed about how hard they are trying to get attention.Maybe that's my real beef with Halloween these days. It just feels like a shallow ploy to attract attention to yourself.

 My favorite part about Halloween now is actually handing out the candy to the kids. I like to see their costumes and excitement. They are excited to have their costume and to be showing it off. I like to see how happy they are over just a small piece of candy. I find that gratifying. It sounds lame because I don't think anyone else cares. I guess I'm just a big softy nowadays.

What I don't understand about Halloween nowadays is the amount of neighborhoods converting to this new thing called "trunk-or-treat." If you're not familiar with this asinine concept, let me inform you. It's where groups of people meet at a central place in a neighborhood with their cars, and let kids walk around to these cars and obtain candy. The theory behind this is so that kids don't have to go to strangers houses where they may presumably be abducted or some other irrational fear. In all the years I went trick-or-treating, I managed to never once get groped, abducted, hit on, murdered, poisoned, etc. I really can't remember an instance where I went to a house and some creepy dude answers the door and says "Hey kids, the real candy is up in my bedroom." I don't necessarily live in a nice neighborhood but it wasn't the ghetto either. There were never any reports of missing, raped or abused children the day of or after Halloween. I often times went alone for the first couple of hours and then my dad would take me and my friends out trick-or-treating later. It was always safe. We were never in any real danger. When my dad went with, that also added some protection, though it wasn't needed. However, if any weirdo would have tried to abduct or creep out on me or my friends, my dad would have administered a serious ass-beating to the poor dumbass. Any dad would. Which brings me to the next point, if you're trick-or-treating with your kids anyway, where is the danger in going to the houses? Especially in this day and age where you can get addresses of known sex offenders if you're so worried about it. Even since my days of trick-or-treating have ended, I have heard almost no reports of these worst case scenarios. Half the fun of trick-or-treating was going to the houses and new neighborhoods. Over the years, I've seen less and less trick-or-treaters because of these stupid unfounded worries. The worst reports you hear are of kids getting run over by cars, or falling off someone's steps or whatever. It's rarely ever this traumatic homicidal/raping event that seems to be imprinted in everyone's minds.

Wow, I'm finally old enough to talk shit about how today's generation is softer than the one I grew up in.


Anywho, I hope everyone has a fun and safe Halloween! I'll try to type something fun tomorrow if I can manage it.


Saturday, October 27, 2012

A Little Bit Better

Sorry about the depressing post yesterday. I don't often write so darkly on this blog. Today is a little bit better. I went to the difficult airway course that I've gone to for the last 3 years. Love it. Totally inspiring. I love the hands on portion, performing the procedures on dummies. Even if they are just dummies, it's awesome. It brightened my day.

I was temporarily intoxicated by the hope of the future. That maybe some day I can really be performing these procedures as a physician. I was intoxicated by nice compliments I received from co-workers. After I sobered up, reality came back. My rut started to settle back in. But it wasn't as intense as it was yesterday. Some of the pain had faded, though it was still there. It's a positive step towards feeling better against this feeling that I haven't been able to identify. This feeling that I can't shake loose of.

I don't know what it is. I only hope that I'm on the path towards annihilating this invisible enemy. I'm taking pot shots in the dark at this thing and landing a few blows. I only hope I start landing more hits soon. I can't stand up against this punishment for that long. I'm only human.

Friday, October 26, 2012

In a Funk

I'm not talking about the kind of funk you get when you want to get jiggy to a real sweet 70's-esque tune. No, I'm talking more about a rut. A hole. A real tough spot. I haven't really been able to define this funk/rut necessarily. I only know that it exists to just make my life miserable, tired and worn. I feel trapped.................or lost inside. That would be a better way to put it. Lost.

Nothing has really happened to trigger this in particular. I've just been busy. School. Work. Sleep. Repeat. I haven't had a whole lot of time for much else. I haven't been fishing in two months now. I think that has played a huge role in this. I haven't gone out to do the one activity that helps me blow off steam. The one activity that brings me peace and joy. I haven't really been out with my friends a lot. A few times, but not often. I miss them. I haven't really had an adventure. I've just been kind of stuck where I am. I keep thinking I'm going to get out and do something grand. But it hasn't panned out thus far. I was supposed to be in San Diego this week, but that fell through on the count of the fact that I couldn't risk the days off from both school and work. I'm still aiming to go to Seattle in the next couple of weeks, though I haven't bought my plane ticket yet. Kind of cutting it close unfortunately. Maybe I won't be able to go. Though I badly need the break I'm not sure if I can manage it financially.

Adventure. That's what I need. I'm not talking about a big adventure or a mischievous one that is reminiscent of my youth. My needs for adventure have been much simpler in the past couple of years. I just need out. I need to express myself in a way that can't be expressed by pen, paper, keyboard, words or song. I just need outdoors. I just need out to see the world for just even a glimmering moment perhaps. I'm not picky. Just anything. I need something that reminds me that life doesn't always have to be so hard, so tiring  and so demeaning. I need something to remind me that there is some joy out there. I need a reminder that I should keep going no matter how worn my spirit and now matter how difficult the journey. I just need a reminder. A sign. Something to show me that a shred of what makes me human still exists. Something to show me that I'm not just an empty shell coasting along the seas of life. Something that brings me meaning and validation. Is it too much to ask? Am I truly this far lost that this is what it has come to? Or is this just the built up stress talking and I'm just being a baby? I guess I can't say soundly for sure just yet. Either answer isn't simple or pleasant.

For every one hope I have, there is a million doubts cast upon it. For every happy moment I have to remember, there is a thousand more unhappy moments that stick with me more. For every achievement I have, there is trillion failures to overshadow it. More than anything do I want to live up to be the man I've led everyone to believe that I would be. More than anything I would like to believe in the things I thought were possible earlier in life but now seem less possible. More than anything do I wish I had the strength, honor, compassion to carry on like all the people in my life that I admire. Yet despite my strengths, my weaknesses show through. Despite some courage, my cowardice takes over. Despite well meaning intentions, my actions are always weak. Despite my spirit, my strength is underwhelming.

I keep thinking to walk tall and keep my chin up. I keep thinking to keep my head above the water before I drown and am consumed in darkness. I keep thinking to pick myself up again and shake it off. I keep thinking that if I tough it out, it will all be worth it in the end. It turns out that I can't walk very tall, or swim very well, or work up the strength to pick myself up, or summon enough moxy to endure any of this.


I just wish.......I just wish I had more time. More time to enjoy my youth, to see the world, to see my friends, to see my family. Just wish I had more of everything so I never felt deficient in anything. I just wish I had what it took to make people proud of who I am and what I've become. But no wishes will help. No effort will compensate. No skill would be enough. I don't feel ok. I don't feel alright. Nothing is alright. Nothing is ok. I am weak and the world knows it. It's like everyone knows something that I don't. As if everyone gets let in on this grand secret while I'm somewhere else, unaware of the world. As if everyone out there is just waiting for me to "get it" and I never do. I just never get it. I may get close, but I just never seem to get what everyone else knows. What everyone else is talking about. Am I really that oblivious? Am I really that inept and stupid? I hope that I'm wrong.


Even Bambi got back up when he got shot by a deer rifle at the end of the movie. How is it that I'm weaker?

Monday, October 22, 2012

Sappy Condolences

There was an article on the local news that announced a young teenage girl had tragically died while being playfully buried in the sand. The next article about this same incident detailed how her friends felt about her, in which they described her as an "amazing" person. While this is tragic and I do not doubt that her friends and family feel that she was an amazing person, I can't help but think of how sappy this is. Of course they are going to think she was an "amazing person." I have yet to stumble upon an obituary or similar article where friends and family were quoted as calling the person "average.

In light of this epiphany, I wouldn't mind being the first person to be quoted as "average" in an article about my death. I can see it now. Headline: "Friends remember the life of young man as 'adequate'" I would like to be something of a pioneer in the field of brutal obituaries. No sap or bullshit. Just facts or bland statements that people aren't used to seeing in obituaries. Ideally, I would like a few one liners in there that quote me as "good enough, I guess" and "strove for mediocrity and got it." Oh yes, the possibilities are endless for the fun you can have with this. It would be most excellent.


Anywho, I started this blog at a different time of the day when the idea was fresh in my head. But I got distracted by something else I had to do. Now that I've come back to finish this, it's not the same. So I'm just going to end it here before it feels like I'm trying too hard to be funny.

You're welcome, loyal reader.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

The Isolation I Always Wanted is Hampering Me: Screw You, Irony

I'm at a campus building I don't normally go to because of the distance from my house. But I had to come here in order to participate in a group project for school. The project was over rather quickly and I still had another member of the group to meet up with later. So I decided to stay and get some homework done. It seemed like an excellent idea. This building practically has no one in it. It's awesome. I'm currently the only person on the entire floor. This is the kind of stuff I enjoy. This is what introverts dreams are made of. Being completely alone, unbothered by everyone and everything. The internet is fast. The temperature is a little cool but not bad. I have coffee and a 5-Hour Energy Shot on hand to help supply me with an artificial sense of "giving a shit." It's well lit. The building is nice and scenic. I have healthy foods to snack on (No fattening pastries for my fat ass).

All the ingredients for optimal productivity are here. And yet, I can barely concentrate. It's like I can't mix the ingredients and put them in the oven. My mind wanders. My gaze shifts towards the surroundings around me. I keep looking behind me, as if someone was going to randomly sneak up and assassinate me or steal my worthless belongings. I keep thinking about irrelevant crap. I'm supposed to be on task today! Yet, any attempt I make towards productivity is ultimately sandbagged by me.

My Semi Full Proof 10 Step Solution:
1. Write a blog about this problem.
2. Ignore viable solutions for this problem. If I implement solutions, I'll actually have to get back to work on homework I couldn't care less about.
3. Drink more caffeine in hopes that it has enough magical properties to solve the problem for me.
4. Set up my study desk as if I am about to do productive, important work.
5. Gaze around the building some more. Maybe I'll bore myself back to productivity.
6. Give myself an empty pep talk.
7. Daydream about being a benevolent dictator who abolishes homework and dates shallow supermodels as a hobby.
8. Outline my already well established work-out schedule for the week in case I get amnesia later.
9. Try not to be frustrated by my lack of progress on a full proof 10 step solution.
10. Concoct a full proof 22 step solution for writing an effective full proof 10 step solution.


At least I have plan.

That's better than all the worthless hippies participating in any protest in recent memory, right? Certainly better than both presidential candidates combined.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Library is Colder Than My Soul

This library is freezing. On the one hand, it keeps me awake and somewhat concentrated. On the other hand, it makes my testes shrink into my abdomen for warmth and my mood extremely irritable. I hate the cold. Even with a jacket I still feel cold. What kind of horrible place is this? I just want to study in comfortable, optimal conditions. Which in my book qualifies as quiet and not fucking cold. If it's too warm, then I just get tired and crave ice cream which would be counterproductive to my studying cause. If it's too loud, I can't concentrate and just feel the urge to start kicking ass and punching [others] genitals. The conditions have to be just perfect for optimal efficiency. Well lit, quiet, warm but not hot or cold, preferably by a window, a pastry on hand with a back-up pastry, copious amounts of caffeine readily available and quick internet access. These are optimal conditions for studying for me. But I have found that most of the time I have to just settle for quiet. Everything else is just a bonus.

Since I'm freezing, irritated and hungry, the productivity in my studying has dropped to new lows today. To combat this problem, I have elected to write a useless blog detailing my pointless struggle. With a little luck, writing about it will set my mind free and set me back on track towards productivity. Nothing helps me feel better quite like clogging up the internet with a boring and useless blog.

Could I have possibly written a better blog? Perhaps. A few subjects come to mind that might have made a better blog topic than this. Such as my literal near death experience on the freeway, my school progress, my thoughts on Fall, or maybe even a humorously relevant subject. But no, you get this rambling writing that serves little meaning. Lucky you.

Anywho, that's all I feel like writing for now. Maybe I will come back to post a better topic in the future.

Maybe.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

I Miss The 80's

Not the decade of the 80's of course. That would be stupid since I lived just barely 4 semi-conscious years of that glorious decade. I'm talking about the temperature. We've already started to cool down to a mean 60-something degrees while the nights have now reached freezing conditions. Now I have to wear a jacket and prepare for cold weather again. I hate that. One of my favorite parts about Summer is that you don't have to worry about that kind of crap. You just simply walk out the door with whatever you're wearing. There is no confusion or worries about getting cold.

On the flip side, I do kind of wish I had spent more time in the 80's decade. So many great things happened in the 80's. I'm severely conflicted on what age group I would have liked to have enjoyed the 80's in. If I was kid. Let's say maybe 5 by 1980, I could reap the benefits of all those sweet 80's cartoons. So many classics were birthed in that time period. I have often wished that I was a kid when those were around. I could just picture myself enjoying the sweet embrace of those glorious TV programs, being so content. Then by the time I hit high school, I could enjoy the turbulent grungy 90's rock scene. Not mention I could enjoy the original Nintendo. That was some cool shit back then. It still is cool.

Yeah. That would be the sweet ticket.

But then what if I wanted to enjoy the 80's while in high school like my dad did. I would be old enough to enjoy all the rock classics of the time. I could enjoy having a mullet without scrutiny.  I could enjoy eating pizza at an actual pizza parlor. I could enjoy arcades and 80's movies that had little original thought to them. Damn, what a sweet time to be alive.

Being an adult in the 80's would have sucked. you would see all these crazy "hip" things changing the world you knew and loved. Video games, tv shows with more ethnically diverse characters. That would be some scary shit if you grew up in the 60's and 70's.


I digress.

The point is, I miss the warm weather already and it's only the beginning of October. That's some bad ju-ju. Bad fuckin' ju-ju.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Magical Mid-Terms Rant

Nearly a year ago today, I wrote a small blog about mid-terms. I'm currently in the midst of these tests. It's not so bad this year. However, once again, it has forced me to bring up the issue of parking.

Unbeknownst to me previously, mid-term tests have the magical capability of luring people who haven't attended class so far, back to class to take incredibly hard tests. It's almost a joke. Every mid-term is the same. The two weeks leading up to mid-terms, the parking is fantastic because a lot of people stop coming to class due to dropping out. But the week of mid-terms, people start coming back to take the tests out of fear that they may somehow fail the class. Where the fuck is the logic in that? You're not coming to class, taking notes, turning in assignments and other stuff class requires you to do. Yet, when you hear that a test that is worth 20-50% of your grade is coming, you suddenly decide to show up, study and take the test with some sort of vague hopes that it will prevent you from utter failure? Am I crazy or does that sound incredibly stupid? I feel like these people know something that I don't. Can they really cram for a mid-term for a class they have not otherwise participated in and still somehow earn a passing grade? If so, how?

My point is, the days of getting an awesome parking spot close to the school are over for about a week. All because dumbass jack-offs feel compelled to study at the last second in a library they hardly respect. I want my good parking spot back! Walking a little further to get to classes and the library is simply too much to ask from me at this point. I'm stressed out as it is. Getting a shitty parking spot due to these assholes is enough to almost throw me over the edge.


Ok. Rant over.


For now.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Jobs That I Only Wish Could Be Mine In Alternate Realities

As I was filling out a personality test and self-evaluation, I came across a question that I have addressed in this blog before. What other jobs have you considered? To name a few: writer, pilot, career military, law enforcement, rock star, etc.

What if I had some other cool job choice? A job where I wouldn't have to work as hard. Or maybe a job where it's a different type of "hard work." Such as an Elvis impersonator  That's not hard, per se. I doubt it takes that much effort to dress like The King, look like The King, and adopt similar mannerisms. I think the hardest part of that job would be living up to Elvis. Think about it. That's your job. To be someone else. Kind of. That's it. That is your career. Your sole purpose in life is to follow the exact footsteps of someone' else's already successful career. Nice.

Acting would be a sweet gig if you were successful. Being "good" at acting isn't exactly a prerequisite for being successful in the field either (Bonus!). There are plenty of horrible actors who get paid obscene amounts of money to do what they do. How awesome is that? You show up on set, have a few of the snacks, make people do your bidding, have an inflated sense of importance, say a few memorized lines based on your crummy interpretation of the writer's script. What is there not to like? That's hardly work at all. I can't stand to hear actors whine about how hard it is to do all these things. Boo-fucking-hoo. "I'm overpaid and the pressure to be entertaining and good looking is too much for my rippling deltoids to handle."
Yeah. I could handle that.

I've previously mentioned writing as a prospective career in the past. I don't think I could write anything cool or noble like some of the great classical or modern writers out there. My writing would likely be low brow in nature. Not that I'm incapable of writing deep, complex or serious material. But I enjoy writing humorous material far more than anything else. A career derived of writing poorly thought out dick jokes would be the life for me. Not to mention my other low brow sub-specialties of humor that include, but are not limited to: poop jokes, sex jokes, mean jokes, tasteless jokes, offensive jokes and so forth. I try to cover the spectrum. I could do that. I wouldn't know where to begin with such a career so I haven't tried. I've also never been convinced that career choice would necessarily make me happy either. But in an alternate universe, I could see myself as being happy with that decision.

I'm all for lazy high paid work. I'm also a huge fan of obscure work that you rarely hear anyone ever take credit for. I've always entertained the thought that somewhere out there, during the Christmas party season, is a guy in a bad sweater who casually brags that he is the successful owner of a factory the manufactures dice and/or phone cords. That's it. That's the only thing his factory produces. And he owns it and runs it on a successful high paid salary. I could do that. Someone has to, right? Perhaps I could operate a factory that only produces the top hat for the Monopoly board game or maybe a factory that produces silver handles for a Swedish kitchen apparel company. The options are limitless on what kind of factory I could own and operate for inoccuous and under-appreciated objects.



That's right, I'm back to wasting your time with all the energy I can muster. You missed it, didn't you?

Sure you did.



Happy October.