Still ticking...

I've never spent so much time on the campus of Kansas State University as I did today - 8:00am till 10:30pm. I don't plan on doing it again any time soon either. On the upside, for my creative efforts in the College of Education's Education Symposium (I wrote a frothy script for the lunchtime entertainment), I recieved a $25.00 gift card.... to Hobby Lobby. Before I whine, let me say that $25.00 to Hobby Lobby is a pretty decent and thoughtful gift, as I expressed my excitement about Hobby Lobby to my boss and coworkers back in September when it opened. And I will admit, I do go there on occasion to browse. However, when people buy me such a gift,and then keep asking me shit"are you excited?!" "are you planning out everything you're going to buy?!" "you could get so many silk flowers!!!", I get a little bit offended. It's like they bought the dog a new playtoy, and now they're looking for its predictably inane reaction. It's so condescending (I can't think of the word I'm think of). I'M NOT GAY, PEOPLE!!! SILK FLOWERS?!?! First of all, I am not that tacky, and second of all.... WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?! Out of fairness to myself, I ought to have burnt the card right there and then thrown it on the floor and pissed on it, all the while grunting like the virile and masculine man that I am. But then I thought of all the Christmas decorations I could buy, and so now I'm feeling a little better.

I carved pumpkins last night... two of them... both incredible likenesses of a couple members of ATHF. I'll attempt pictures before they rot in about four days.

We read Spanish screenplays in my Spanish class, and we are each assigned a couple of questions per film to answer in front of the class. For our current movie, "Hable con Ella" or "Talk to Her", my first question was number 14. Usually we get through about five questions a day, so when we finished off with number five last class time, I figured I'd be fine not reading. It will come as a surprise to you all when I tell you I figured wrong. So here I am, fantically trying to find exactly when the details of Lydia's relationship to her ex are revealed when I am called upon. My answer was something to the effect of "Ehm, no estoy seguro porque es muy dificil para decir. Lo siento." or "I'm not sure because it's very difficult to say. Sorry."

My oh my, the scholar I've become.

Also new: I am enrolled in my classes for next semester. They are:
- Harry Potter's Library
- Screenwriting
- Bloomsbury Group
and
- Short Story Workshop (which I'm technically not enrolled in, and there's a semi-good chance I won't be able to get in, so I'm just pretending for now. Call me Quixote.)

Loud drunk people blowing whistles outside my window means it's time for me to go to bed.

In the wake.

Ahhh it just stopped raining here, the land is cool, and we can all breath easier.

Similarly, my car is back, I am off my antibiotic, and I am generally more happy.

I was going to write one of my "lyrical" meandering posts but now I kind of just want to go to bed. SO... let me close with the story of my first encounter with a casino this Saturday night.

Over dinner at Gilio's, the new italian "bistro" in town, Kyle and I decided to go gambling as he has become quite addicted to Texas Hold'em. He took $46, so i took $40 and we drove down and got there at about 11:00. I played and lost all $40, mostly on slots and video poker, both of which are really depressing since you pretty much just drop your quarters in one by one over and over again. Then you look next to you and see the pros... old chain-smoking women, looking as though they've been doing it the majority of their adult life. So sad. But the sound in the casino more than makes up for it. The glittery, chimey, happy musical sound. Kyle played and lost $16 of his $46, so he did all right. We lasted about two hours, and partook of quite a bit of free soda, which I thought was very fine indeed.

Across the street, they're playing the Vanilla Sky soundtrack, so I'm going to hurry and try to fall asleep while it's still playing because we all know how much I love that soundtrack. Just wanted to say hey to y'all. Goodnight!

Loathing. Unadulterated Loathing.

"There's a strange exhilaration in such total detestation... it's so pure, so strong."

That's from the musical "Wicked", the soundtrack of which I am really loving at the moment for some reason. Perhaps it's that I strongly identify with the protagonist - green skinned and universally misunderstood - with a wonderful singing voice.

ANYWAY. I'm skipping Botany as well, but I probably should go to my newest classes (Intro to Music and Short Story) which meet tonight from 5:30 till 10:30. Blegh.

I started writing last night... turns out anger is pretty useful for writing. I'm not saying that what I wrote is good... but I got about 1,000 words down, which is 1,000 more than I've written since last May. Nice.

Tonight... I'm going to do something unexpected. Something positive. I don't know what it will be... that's kind of the point, I guess. We shall see. Maybe it can be the baby step that gets me out of this not-so-little funk.

I am on a roll.

You'd think that as test days approach, I'd be more apt to attend my classes. You'd be wrong. Right now I should be in Spanish class (arguably the most difficult class I've taken at K-State - for me anyway), but instead I'm at work, getting paid for my time. My justification is that my boss made me go get food for people at the Union, and when I got back it was like 9:28 (class starts at 9:30). I probably would have only been a couple minutes late, but I absolutely abhor walking in late to class and having the teacher watch me from the corner of his eyes while everyone else either stares at me or continues to sleep. I can't handle that... not this morning.

PLEASE: Before you read this, note that everything I'm saying is sort of a generalization, and it doesn't apply to every one of my Manhattan friends. Also note that this is more an image of how I feel and have felt for the past few days, and not how I will feel or plan on feeling in the days, weeks, months, and years to come. So don't jump to conclusions: most of the people who I'm going to be talking about don't read this anyway... at least not that I know of. SO:

I think, with my attitudes toward life and politics, I've managed to push most of my friendships to the breaking point, and now my world here in Manhattan is kind of crumbling around me. I wish I cared more - at least enough to try to feign contentment and make everyone like me again... but I can't do that. I mean no offense to anyone who reads this, but I am so sick of all the bullshit that goes on around here. BUT I know I've put myself into the situations I'm in and that in doing so I have become a part of that bullshit, so I can't blame any of you. More and more, though, I can't wait to graduate from this shitbox and leave all of you people - as much as I love you all.

Maybe I'm just depressed. Like I said, don't take it personally. Some people (my roomate) think that everything that I really like is depressing. Movies, books, music... that if I feel it's worth watching, it's probably depressing. I strongly disagree, but I don't have desire to expound the energy to give you my rebuttal. Suffice it to say I find the fact that people listen to shitty rap and unspired country music much more depressing than the fact that there are talented musicians (potentially rappers or country singers) who have something to say about the REAL WORLD in which I am living, rather than one composed of "dubs" and "shorties" and "beer-drinking horses". Sue me. And 'Whale Rider' is NOT a depressing movie... and I have a hard time seeing it as one, as some people might have me do.

I woke up this morning and wished I could shake like a dog and have all this shit fly off me and splatter on the walls like globs of paint and fat and whatever else is covering up what I really am. Is it really worth it? Probably. Am I motivated or inspired to do it? Not today. Not by you. No, today I am going to sit here on my ass and type about all of it in my pithy blog and pretend to be productive as I slowly succumb to anger, hatred, and obesity. Today I am going to be exactly who you think I am... exactly who you need me to be.

I created you... I can destroy you.

It's been so much time and so much has transpired, I think I'll just tell you some of the things that haven't happened because if you care to know about anything that has happened, you probably already do.

I haven't gotten my car back yet. Apparently it's going to be sometime this week though, which makes me more happy than you can probably imagine - even if your one of those prodigious "children of the inner eye" (as I like to call you) who are gifted with such an ingenious wit and stellar imagination that you can convincingly lie your way out of anything... which I can sort of do, but not really, because the excuses I make up are a little bit too mundane.

I haven't gained any more acception in my group of friends, probably due to the fact that I really haven't gotten any happier in the past week, which is due to the fact that I haven't lost any weight, done any work (by work I mean reading or writing for "pleasure", which is really more like saying "pre-work" in my case because I would like, as you know, to be a writer someday), or, while we're on the topic, applied for any jobs. I have looked at jobs, pretended to read, and thought about losing weight, but if you know anything about me you should know that I haven't yet become the kind of person who can translate thought into action.

I didn't pay of my steadily increasing credit card bill (in fairness though, the stuff I've rung up on it has been tuition and books, so... it's noble............................ keep pretending..................

........

are they gone?

.........

okay.)

I haven't managed to figure out what's wrong with the internet (it keeps stopping and starting at the whim of some third party I have not yet discovered) although I HAVE discovered that it's not my computer's fault, as I formatted its little hardrive - which I have not dusted in years - last night.

I did not keep Gayla, the lady bug that landed on my shirt and then lived on my desk at work over the weekend unbeknownst to me until I discovered her this morning as I was listening to my boss be grumpy. I also do not know whether or not she is still on the bush that I put her on, but she did teach me that ladybugs drink diet Coke, which is edifying.

The semi-self-inflicted wound on my head has not yet healed, although it is coming along quite nicely, as I did not find any blood and/or other residue from it's grotesqueness on my pillow last night.

Katie did not like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" as much as I thought and hoped she would. It is quite a shame as well as a blow to my ego, so out of self-preservation I will not ever tell her about a single movie that I enjoy ever again - unless she asks.

I did not go immediately after my (minor) surgery and have two beers in order to finish the Oktoberfest Mini Beer Tour at Old Chicago. Nope. Didn't do that. Never. Nuh-uh.

Adam didn't post to our political debate blog, and yet despite my great urge, I didn't delete it - pissed off as I am. I didn't call him to tell him that I was and still am pissed. Needless to say, the one person in media he emulates is that smarmy bastard, Bill O'Reilly. Did you know that he has a children's book? A CHILDREN'S BOOK! What next? Mein Kampf for Tweens?

Enough brainwashing. Please watch the following television programs with regularity, as I feel they might enrich your lives*:

Desparate Houswives (ABC, Sun 9/8 central)
Surreal Life (VH1, Sun 10/9 central)
Scrubs (NBC, Tues 9:30/8:30 central)
Lost (ABC, Wed 9/8 central)


---
*NOTE: please feel no real obligation to watch these shows... I will love you (or at least "like-like" you) as a friend whether you watch them or not. Also, I wasn't too sure on some of the times - check your local listings for verification.

Back to school.

Yesterday began at 8:30, when I took a four hour driving class entitled "Alive @ 25" in order to reduce the moving violation I recieved from my accident last month to a non-moving violation. The instructor, Elmer Gillette, was a 68-year old man with what seemed to be the most intense love-hate relationship with our generation that I've ever seen. On one hand he thought we were the smartest generation and that if we couldn't fix all the problems in the world, no one could. But on the same token, he thought us arrogant and stupid, and for four hours he deconstructed our faults and flaws using Jungian philosophy and other intellectual schools of thought. Four hours later, I came to the realization that... wait... no... there was no realization. I just sat there for four hours pretending to listen to something that proved me no benefit other than the little piece of paper that I can now give to the attorney my mom hired so that hopefully I won't have to go to court in December. Damned hoops.

A mystery I can't uncover...

I am increasingly finding myself in the unfavorable position of loathing almost everything and everyone. These days, it takes nothing less than a miracle to make me smile, and I don't really know why that is. Perhaps I am beginning to realize that I have little to nothing in common with a large majority of my friends - they are the people I thought I wanted to be like until I realized I wanted to be like myself again, and now I am finding it difficult to get back to that position. However, that's a little unfair to them and also to me, because it is my firm belief that deep down, we all have pretty similar wants and dreams and ideals and stuff, we just mask them with our personalities. I think I'm discovering though that I've been trying for the three and a half years I've been at KSU to be someone I'm not and to try and develop good friendships with those who want me to be that person who is so unlike me while I have pushed away many who might have actually appreciated me more (those people who read this probably know who they are).

Regardless of all of that, I am really damned pissed off. I want my car back so that I can escape from my apartment when I want. I want to be able to clean my apartment and have it stay clean for awhile instead of being dirty again in half an hour. I want to get off my ass and do something about my life and stop using my car and my dirty apartment and my friends as an excuse. I know that my life is what I make of it, and I think I've gotten into the distructive habit of making excuses for myself when things don't work out the way I wanted (and the way they very feasably could, given a small amount of effort on my part.)

For now though, I want to play that song with the line "I hate you, fuck you, leave me alone" and close my door and turn off my phones and not have anyone bother me until I can get over whatever this funk is that I'm under. I can't wait to go home to Olathe tomorrow. Can't. Fucking. Wait. I'm going to see Shaun of the Dead if I have to kill somebody, steal their car, and run from their undead zombie corpse as they try to feast on my increasingly wasted brains.

In closing, I offer you a line that I read from my McSweeney's Quarterly Concern, Issue 14, which I recieved in the mail today. It is from a letter by an Irish man named Timothy McSweeney who the editor (Dave Eggers) met during a reading in Ireland after asking if there were any McSweeney's in the audience, which may sound like a random question, but as McSweeney's is the name of his publishing company and as McSweeney's is an Irish name and as he speaking to a group of Irish people, the question made quite a bit of sense. Mr. McSweeney has begun contributing to the endeavors of the publishing company bearing his name by submitting a letter to us, the readers of McSweeney's. I found the following statement he made about himself incredibly applicable to my own life. I have shared it with Kyle, and now I will share it with you. Have a good night:

"You see, I was one of those unfortunate children who right up to Leaving Certificate [Read: high school graduation] at age seventeen found school too easy and had to make a painful adjustment as an adult when most of the others caught up with me and passed me by."

Presenting...

Well, friends, it appears I have become one of the more outspoken within my group of friends, making my opinions not only heard, but prerequisits for feeling comfortable around me. I'd like to say that it's not true, but it probably is to some extent. So know this... whether I agree with you or not, I respect everyone having their own opinions whether or not they are the same as mine. That said, I will try to get less pissed off and be more civil during any gentle discourse we may have... assuming that I am afforded the same courtesy.

Speaking of all this, please take the time to visit Open for Discussion, a project my friend Adam and I are undertaking, as we both feel that our personal blogs are not the proper venue for our politcal ideas. I am the liberal, he is the conservative - or rathe the "Bill O'Reilly" figure - which here means "a conservative masquerading as a man with no agenda other than the propogation of "truth", which here means "skewed fact"." But all that is just my opinion.

Now enough of this Tom Knavery... let us ride!