February 1, 2003 (3:13am): I went out to this TicketMaster place today, looking for a job. I don't wanna work. I've just about given up on work. I mean, there's just so much work, and I don't have any real incentive. I need tangible and constant reinforcement, and I can't get that. Not from myself, that's for damn sure.
Ugh.
Why do we do anything? Doesn't that seem kinda stupid?
Hrm.
February 4, 2003 (3:51am): I got an illegal copy of PaintShop Pro 7 the other day, so I've been busy creating skins. Skins being, of course, the 3-D images that appear in computer games.
So far I've only made two. Two in, like, five days. Only two because a) I'm incredibly slow and I had to learn how to use the program by trial-and-error without benefit of the manual, and b) I couldn't find a character I wanted to create a skin of, and c) I'm incredibly detail-oriented and won't let something go until I'm either entirely pleased or entirely bored with it.
So for the last almost-week I've spent damn near every waking hour in front of this damned computer, creating things that only about three people will actually use. I won't be using them myself because, ironically, I haven't played the game they're used in for, oh, a month. At least. Weird, the things we do to distract ourselves.
I'm still waiting for TicketMaster to call. I applied for a job there, and I can't imagine how I couldn't get it. I mean, c'mon, it's me. And it's not rocket science (though I might fare better at that than you'd think). But they haven't called. Hrm.
Meanwhile, I keep looking for jobs, but it's difficult, considering where I live and the modes of conveyance I have at my disposal. Too bad employing hackneyed phrases isn't a well-paying career. Well. There's Rolling Stone, but those phrases are more just "hack".
February 9, 2003 (12:52am): I had French pamcakes today. Yeah, with an "m". They were crepe style, as before, but with orange sauce instead of a stupid lemon wedge. I'm not fond of orange anything, but I wanted to try all the kinds. And now I have.
They were underwhelming. Next time: Cheese blintzes! Yum.
So I start training at my TicketMaster job Monday. I'm hoping they gave me the wrong schedule 'cause they said Monday-Friday, 8:30am-5:00pm, and Saturday 9:00am-1:00pm. Surely they don't need to train me for forty-six hours. What am I doing, working at TicketMaster or invading Cuba?
At any rate, I wouldn't necessarily mind those many hours because money money money, gobble gobble gobble, lots of money, lots of money. More money means less bill to SIU, and less bill to SIU means a larger swelling heart, happy happy.
Hrm.
Yup.
Oh! I forgot! We were sitting in IHOP, and my parents and sister and brother-in-law were going on about, I dunno, movies or some hardware store, and I kept staring at this one girl a few tables away. I didn't mean to, she was just in my line of sight 'cause I was staring at a billboard outside. But then I saw her so I just started glancing now and then 'cause she was pretty in a nigh-unnoticeable way. Then she smiled at me in one of those silly scrunched-up eyes over-done smiley ways, which was infinitely better than the fruity-tooty flirty way. Anyway, I did likewise, then just kept glancing now and then.
Then I got up and went to the restroom, and, hee hee, the guy she was sitting with came in. I was washing my hands and he said, conversationally, not angrily or anything, "Why are you staring at my girlfriend? She's been staring at you, and what the heck's going on?" That's an odd thing to bring up, especially in an IHOP restroom, so I just did one of those inarticulate gestures, like, "I have no idea," and went out.
Completely inane and inocuous moment in time, but it was kinda nice, all the same.
February 9, 2003 (10:16pm): So I start training for TicketMaster tomorrow. I can't say I'm not looking forward to it, but I'm not too eager about it, either. Mostly 'cause I don't know what this training business it about. First, they call and give me this schedule that would equal to forty-six hours of training, and that's just crazy. Then someone else tells me the training it only, like, twenty-four hours. I'm inclined to believe them, seems more reasonable.
So what gives?
I don't know.
Hrm.
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February 11, 2003 (5:32pm): You know, I used to think that I was just uptight, or some kind of a jackass. 'Cause I didn't get along with a lotta people. Not so much out-and-out hostility; just, like, some kind of, I dunno, "I don't like them, and I'm just not going to, and that's that."
But now I realize, it's just 'cause there's no home group. I mean, most people have groups they can be in for the majority of the time, and then when they have to be with others they aren't used to or can't relate to, they just deal with it 'cause it's brief. But I'm stuck here by myself, and I don't have that outlet. So I'm constantly "on". I'm in a non-stop phase of getting by.
I can't, like, talk with friends who're on my level and aren't always in my face and making me try to prove that how I am is just fine. I'm always stuck with people whose opinions, habits, values, etc. are just all fucked-up and askew to mine.
That can really wear someone out. And then at some point you stop giving a rat's ass and you're like, "Fine, if you're gonna be rubbing me the wrong way all day, I'm just gonna get some quills, see how you like that."
Hrm.
I can't explain. It might sound foolish of me now, but just bear this entry in mind the next time you're stuck at a movie or at work with some people you can't relate to, and you can frown and bear it. I'm doing that all the damn time.
I'm a nice guy, and I like being a nice guy, and helpful and all that stuff, but c'mon. I'm sick of not being what I am, and that comes at the cost of being overly nice.
Bah!
I had some Funyuns today. Mmm. Non sequiturlicious!
February 14, 2003 (10:24pm): Happy big stupid St. Valentine's Day.
Hrm.
February 16, 2003 (12:45am): I should be sleeping. I woke up at 7:00 this morning, so I've been awake, oh, about eighteen hours, which is a record for the last year or so. Hmm.
But I don't feel like going to bed. It still feels so odd to wake up and go to bed early. I got too used to waking up around three in the afternoon and going to sleep around five in the morning. Hrm.
February 17, 2003 (4:05pm): So thanks to this huge snow/ice storm that's gone through the eastern part of the country, I missed work today. But not by my choice.
My parents didn't wanna go out today, so I had no transportation. I had to call in absent today, on my first full day of regular work. Real good start, huh?
What's really got me pissed is that a few hours later my parents decided they wanted to go out and get something to eat, so they got right into the car and left. I'm thinking "What about all the BIG TERRIBLE ICE AND SNOW PATCHES that supposedly would have made my trip to work so deadly?" And they're just like "Oh, well, uh, it's warmed up since then and the roads are probably cleared." It's warmed up three goddamn degrees since then! The roads are no different!
See, this is the bullshit that keeps me spinning my wheels. I wanted to go to work, despite the shitty weather and the general fact that work sucks. But no...
Hrm.
So now I have to work from 9:00am till 5:00pm three days this week, just to make up for the time I lost today. Either that, or just accept that I lost the chance to earn $40 today, which I don't wanna do.
What the hell is wrong with people? I mean, I'm assuming responsibility and personal accountability aren't things I just dreamt up.
February 17, 2003 (9:37pm): Geez, I'm so bored. You'd think that a clever fella could find things to amuse himself with, but that's surprisingly not true.
Hrm.
February 21, 2003 (7:44pm): Worky worky, sleepy sleepy. No talky talky.
February 24, 2003 (9:47pm): Hrm. Hmm. Bah.
It's warm, it's cold, it's clear, it's cloudy, it's green grass, it's snow snow snow. The weather is really a pain in the ass this time of year.
But far more worrying is that it will soon be warm enough for flip-flops, yet woefully the dress code at work doesn't allow flip-flops. Really. Who cares? Flip-flops! Does that create a dangerous work environment?
It shouldn't be about appearance, 'cause they allow t-shirts and blue jeans. C'mon. Like flip-flops are the dregs of apparel.
Dammit.
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