I think these two things are some of the most important things to me. I don’t know why. I’m really not that uptight.
But let me give you an example of something I think about, almost on a daily basis:
It takes Michelle 20 minutes to get to work and 30 minutes to get home. I takes me 50 minutes to get to work and an hour to get home.
The difference? 1 hour. Let’s say that Michelle and I work 50 weeks in a year, taking 2 off for vacation. 1 hour a day X 5 days a work week X 50 weeks = 250 hours. That’s 10 whole days of extra time that Michelle gets to spend doing whatever she’d like, a year. Granted, that extra time she basically spends sleeping, but still that’s better for you than driving in traffic. Let’s say that we both work 33 years before we retire. That ends up being 330 days, and not just 12 hour days where you’re awake, but 330 whole, 24 hour days. That’s a whole extra year of my life, gone to traffic. Sure I get to listen to the radio and music I enjoy on the way home, and yes I would’ve wasted that hour just vegging on the couch in front of the TV anyway…but still, I’d rather be at home doing nothing than stuck in traffic.
Money. The goal is to become the first cash millionaire I know. I know, making $40K a year and living in probably a close to $100K household income isn’t going to get us there very quickly, but I plan on changing some things by the time I’m 28 which will hopefully bump us up to a higher earn rate. Also, once I get more of my funds working for me, it’ll be smooth sailing from that point onwards. It is tough to start saving when you’ve got such a small amount to start with, but I heard on the radio yesterday that the average 30 year old has $3,000 in liquid cash available to them. I was shocked at that number. I am definitely blessed to be in the position I am in and plan to take full advantage. I’m hoping to build up a good nest egg for my future children…because I want either Michelle or I to work a part time job while they’re in school so that we’re there to send them off, and there after school for them. I know how much help that was to me, knowing that I would always see my mom when I got home from school every day.
Ok, off of boring topics and on to more boring.
I bought onion bagels. I had them once before at work when I was starving and they were excellent. They are not good for breakfast. The reason they are not good for breakfast is because they completely negate brushing your teeth. I have staved off from eating these bagels in the morning, and until after I get to work because my breath really stinks, and the taste in my mouth is horrible. It tastes so good going down, but the after taste is just ridiculous. Even 3 tic tacs can’t solve the issue.
I would write more, but it’s starting to pick up here. That’s why I’m working overtime. Just wanted to make my weekly (weak) post. I promise I’ll write more interesting things next week. There are things I’d like to write about…my new TV, our soccer team, the Huskies game, but don’t feel I have the time to. So I’ll stop here for now.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Reminiscing
So, since my computer exploded
And then I spent a butt load of money to get it fixed
But only half the amount I spent to get a brand new crappy one that still ran twice as slow as my computer
When I got it back, everything worked just fine. Just dandy. But I remember when I was back on the network with EJ that I locked down my pictures because I had some scandalous ones in there that I didn’t want him to see. No, I wasn’t smart in just creating a totally separate folder for them all and locking that one, I locked the whole god damned picture folder. All 20+ gigs of it. Excellent and beautiful photos. Videos that bring me back to that point. Bring a smile to my face. Bring a tinge of sadness to me from missing my last loved vehicle, or friends I haven’t talked to in years or girls that will never talk to me again. Trips we took to the gorge. To Cannon Beach. To Vancouver. Drunken parties at the condo. In California. In Vegas. Boxing, dunking, driving, singing, dancing, laughing…it’s all there. All good memories, even the sad ones. But now I can’t get access. I am going to try a lot of different things, because data retrieval would otherwise cost about a thousand dollars. Are my pictures worth that to me? Yes. They are priceless. I have had my camera since December of 2002, and my picture taking didn’t really drop off until about a year ago. I’m not sure why it dropped off. I just felt like I was taking too many pictures…at every opportunity I was asking people to pose…and was posing myself. So I let it drop off. But while I was living in Seattle…those were my pictures.
Just thinking about that, made me really want to look back at the time I spent in Seattle. And something that helped me continue on today was thinking about the summers I had in Seattle. Now there is the BEST SUMMER ever, the ones between my senior year of high school and my first year of college. But then there are the last few summers. And grouped together, thinking about each one, although they mud together I can still point out things and say “this was awesome. My life was great at these points”. And I’ve got the pictures up in my head. But I’m scared they’ll go gray or ever fade out as more pictures enter my head. That is what I’m afraid of.
What I remember from those summers: Getting home on a Thursday afternoon after school in May. Getting off the warm bus and having my MP3 player blast out something amazing while I watch the cherry blossoms fall to the slight breeze. Seeing girls walk around the quad in skirts and tank tops. Watching guys in sunglasses throw the Frisbee around. People out sunbathing.
Playing basketball. Playing basketball at Green lake as the sun goes down and is reflecting off of the water. The black hard top still warm from the days rays. Families, couples, children skating by and dogs panting, all stopped to sit and watch some basketball and lap in the rest of the day’s orange light. Sitting at Denny Court in the shade of the giant trees from the 1800s, drinking from a stone water fountain that is probably just as old. Watching sorority girls in bathing suits playing volleyball right next to the court. I remember sitting in the long warm, green gas with Don. Waiting for the next game to start up when a short boxer, a dog, came walking up to us out of nowhere. Before we knew it, we didn’t even care about the basketball because we were petting the dog, having him play fetch with a stick we had found. I remember one June afternoon, I had skipped out of a study session from the MSC (math study center) to go play ball. It was too nice of a day to stay locked in the basement…studying calculus. And I remember, it was me, and 3 of my guy friends from the class who I had convinced to go play. And that was 1:30 pm.
Usually Denny court didn’t pick up until the latest afternoon classes were over at 3:30 (before the evening group) but by the time we got to the court we had found that plenty of other guys had had the same idea as us. Screw finals, we’re young and you only get perfect June days like this to play ball with your friends so often. And we played. We played all night. I remember the lights coming on around 7 and being so hungry. But the games were so good, the weather so perfect, and every time I thought people were ready to be finished and go eat dinner, more guys showed up.
Then I found the games at BF Day. To me, they were like the little basketball oasis in the middle of nowhere. I knew there were courts down there. I just had no idea that there were 12 to 15 guys that were all friends. All knew each other. All understood their own “code”. It was like I had stumbled upon “The Sandlot” for adults, and instead of baseball, it was basketball. I guarantee to this day, you head down there on a Tuesday through Thursday afternoon, right about 5 pm? You’ll run in to these guys. And the best part about it is, they play every where. While I was in Seattle, I dreamed of finding other places like this. Little hole-in-the-wall courts where everyone knew how to play, and were all good friends by the end of the day. All looking for a competitive game, and knew how to enjoy the sun. I only found one other one, and that was at North Seattle Community College before they ripped that outdoor court down too. But I ran in to a few of the same guys at NSCC as I did at BF Day. Later on one summer during the 3 on 3 Hoop it up challenge I ran in to plenty of them.
But enough about basketball in the summer. I remember finding that perfect open parking spot in front of the first floor window, or waiting until it opened up. Then turning up the music on my computer, dumping the speakers off right on my window sill, parking the car, grabbing the hose and just spending hours washing and cleaning the Civic. For me there was almost no better feeling then having the cleanest car…windows rolled down, and just driving anywhere, for any excuse. Back then gas didn’t seem too expensive for me. And being broke was alright because I had everything I needed or wanted.
Playing golf at the 3 par. Eating happy hour at Duke’s. Eating a red mill burger with the sun setting on Phinney Hill. Wondering if the dry cleaners on that weird corner was ever open when I went running. Watching the lights twinkle below in Ballard as I drove towards Taco Bell in Ballard for an excellent and healthy dinner. The Aurora bridge and the slight wind that all those cars zooming by seemed to make. Blue Star chicken fried steak doused in gravy on an early Saturday morning. Nick finally getting his head shaved after so much coercing. July 4th atop the condo roof. So many memories are so vivid in my head. I fear I’m losing them slowly.
But hopefully this is what I’ll think of when I remember my summers in Seattle.
And then I spent a butt load of money to get it fixed
But only half the amount I spent to get a brand new crappy one that still ran twice as slow as my computer
When I got it back, everything worked just fine. Just dandy. But I remember when I was back on the network with EJ that I locked down my pictures because I had some scandalous ones in there that I didn’t want him to see. No, I wasn’t smart in just creating a totally separate folder for them all and locking that one, I locked the whole god damned picture folder. All 20+ gigs of it. Excellent and beautiful photos. Videos that bring me back to that point. Bring a smile to my face. Bring a tinge of sadness to me from missing my last loved vehicle, or friends I haven’t talked to in years or girls that will never talk to me again. Trips we took to the gorge. To Cannon Beach. To Vancouver. Drunken parties at the condo. In California. In Vegas. Boxing, dunking, driving, singing, dancing, laughing…it’s all there. All good memories, even the sad ones. But now I can’t get access. I am going to try a lot of different things, because data retrieval would otherwise cost about a thousand dollars. Are my pictures worth that to me? Yes. They are priceless. I have had my camera since December of 2002, and my picture taking didn’t really drop off until about a year ago. I’m not sure why it dropped off. I just felt like I was taking too many pictures…at every opportunity I was asking people to pose…and was posing myself. So I let it drop off. But while I was living in Seattle…those were my pictures.
Just thinking about that, made me really want to look back at the time I spent in Seattle. And something that helped me continue on today was thinking about the summers I had in Seattle. Now there is the BEST SUMMER ever, the ones between my senior year of high school and my first year of college. But then there are the last few summers. And grouped together, thinking about each one, although they mud together I can still point out things and say “this was awesome. My life was great at these points”. And I’ve got the pictures up in my head. But I’m scared they’ll go gray or ever fade out as more pictures enter my head. That is what I’m afraid of.
What I remember from those summers: Getting home on a Thursday afternoon after school in May. Getting off the warm bus and having my MP3 player blast out something amazing while I watch the cherry blossoms fall to the slight breeze. Seeing girls walk around the quad in skirts and tank tops. Watching guys in sunglasses throw the Frisbee around. People out sunbathing.
Playing basketball. Playing basketball at Green lake as the sun goes down and is reflecting off of the water. The black hard top still warm from the days rays. Families, couples, children skating by and dogs panting, all stopped to sit and watch some basketball and lap in the rest of the day’s orange light. Sitting at Denny Court in the shade of the giant trees from the 1800s, drinking from a stone water fountain that is probably just as old. Watching sorority girls in bathing suits playing volleyball right next to the court. I remember sitting in the long warm, green gas with Don. Waiting for the next game to start up when a short boxer, a dog, came walking up to us out of nowhere. Before we knew it, we didn’t even care about the basketball because we were petting the dog, having him play fetch with a stick we had found. I remember one June afternoon, I had skipped out of a study session from the MSC (math study center) to go play ball. It was too nice of a day to stay locked in the basement…studying calculus. And I remember, it was me, and 3 of my guy friends from the class who I had convinced to go play. And that was 1:30 pm.
Usually Denny court didn’t pick up until the latest afternoon classes were over at 3:30 (before the evening group) but by the time we got to the court we had found that plenty of other guys had had the same idea as us. Screw finals, we’re young and you only get perfect June days like this to play ball with your friends so often. And we played. We played all night. I remember the lights coming on around 7 and being so hungry. But the games were so good, the weather so perfect, and every time I thought people were ready to be finished and go eat dinner, more guys showed up.
Then I found the games at BF Day. To me, they were like the little basketball oasis in the middle of nowhere. I knew there were courts down there. I just had no idea that there were 12 to 15 guys that were all friends. All knew each other. All understood their own “code”. It was like I had stumbled upon “The Sandlot” for adults, and instead of baseball, it was basketball. I guarantee to this day, you head down there on a Tuesday through Thursday afternoon, right about 5 pm? You’ll run in to these guys. And the best part about it is, they play every where. While I was in Seattle, I dreamed of finding other places like this. Little hole-in-the-wall courts where everyone knew how to play, and were all good friends by the end of the day. All looking for a competitive game, and knew how to enjoy the sun. I only found one other one, and that was at North Seattle Community College before they ripped that outdoor court down too. But I ran in to a few of the same guys at NSCC as I did at BF Day. Later on one summer during the 3 on 3 Hoop it up challenge I ran in to plenty of them.
But enough about basketball in the summer. I remember finding that perfect open parking spot in front of the first floor window, or waiting until it opened up. Then turning up the music on my computer, dumping the speakers off right on my window sill, parking the car, grabbing the hose and just spending hours washing and cleaning the Civic. For me there was almost no better feeling then having the cleanest car…windows rolled down, and just driving anywhere, for any excuse. Back then gas didn’t seem too expensive for me. And being broke was alright because I had everything I needed or wanted.
Playing golf at the 3 par. Eating happy hour at Duke’s. Eating a red mill burger with the sun setting on Phinney Hill. Wondering if the dry cleaners on that weird corner was ever open when I went running. Watching the lights twinkle below in Ballard as I drove towards Taco Bell in Ballard for an excellent and healthy dinner. The Aurora bridge and the slight wind that all those cars zooming by seemed to make. Blue Star chicken fried steak doused in gravy on an early Saturday morning. Nick finally getting his head shaved after so much coercing. July 4th atop the condo roof. So many memories are so vivid in my head. I fear I’m losing them slowly.
But hopefully this is what I’ll think of when I remember my summers in Seattle.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
I heart the government *cough*
My part time job is illegal
http://today.reuters.com/investing/financeArticle.aspx?type=bondsNews&storyID=2006-03-15T174222Z_01_N15403811_RTRIDST_0_CONGRESS-FINANCIAL-GAMBLING.XML
That’s a long freaking link!
Synopsis: The government hates the fact that close to 12 BILLION DOLLARS is wagered online every year by Americans. And not one of those suckers in DC (or even the local governments here) are seeing one cent of it. They are sick. They can’t believe that US dollars are going offshore. *big surprise* Wow! Really? You mean Americans are spending 60% of their hard earned dollars (after taxes, which by the way are not DOING ANYTHING) on what they want to? Entertainment? And your PISSED OFF because we’re not getting taxed on our spending? Our winnings? Our entertainment? Guess what, here's how I'm sticking it to you. By continuing to contribute funds and investing in overseas operations. They're the only ones making money anyway.
The poor governemtn. Boo hoo. Seriously. Don’t you feel like you’ve ripped us off enough?
You know, before college I was this hippy. Some kid that thought that these welfare programs, and all this government aid…this is a great thing for people. As I got older and went through college, and now have graduated and am realizing that I could be earning 30% MORE CASH if it wasn’t for the god damned government that does nothing for me I’ve moved towards a more conservative view of things. Purely financial.
I can’t think of this stuff. It’s absolutely sickening. The amount of corruption and screw ups across the board. And the thing that makes me ever sicker? All of these people bashing Bush. Is that the best that you can come up with? Do you realize that your hard earned tax dollars are going to a majority of white guys in suits that just show up for work and say “yay or nay” and the hardest thing they had to do to get elected for the LEAST WORK TO PAY RATIO JOB was to get elected. By whom? Not by me. I’m so disturbed by the whole system that I want to puke. I want to scream. Let’s see, I make about TWENTY TIMES LESS THAN SOME GUY THAT HEADED UP THE MONORAIL PROJECT. That’s right. If you weren’t aware, he was awarded a RAISE for doing NOTHING from about $680K to $750K. Don’t quote me on that number, that’s what I remember seeing this past summer in the Times. Ok, so I pay close to $10K in tax every year…it would take 75 OTHER HARD WORKING AMERICANS to pay this guy’s salary? Oh, and remind me about how much has been done on the monorail this past year? That’s what I thought.
The worst part of it all…the worst part of it…and I have to repeat this to make sure everyone understands…is the apathy. There’s just so much to deal with, and all of us are completely useless that we end up not caring. People are shocked when they read or hear or sense my anger regarding these situations when I tell them I don’t vote. What does ONE vote out of MILLIONS matter? If I had voted in the last election would it have changed anything? No. Do I live in a county with 150 other people where a vote could be decided by my vote? No. I don’t. And voting for these people is just prolonging this idiotic system of just paying blindly. I drive by these hilarious signs every day that say, “Your Nickel At Work”. HAH! My NICKEL? MINE? Only 5 cents? It looks like I only put in 5 cents because all you did was RUIN THE GODDAMNED ROAD AND NOW I’M STUCK HERE WATCHING SOME TEENAGE KID EARN A BETTER HOURLY RATE THAN ME BECAUSE HE’S GETTING PAID BY THE STATE AND ALSO RECEIVES HAZARD PAY. Look, he just flipped the fucking sign from “STOP” to “SLOW”. Well done sir. I hope you die of cancer from my fumes.
So, I’m almost off of work. I will stop venting now. Every now and then…like a boiling pot full of water…steam must get out. Before I go, I’d just like to say: Dear Government: Thank you for trying to make laws to ensure I live a miserable life. Thank you for stealing from me. Thank you for being worthless. But most importantly, and to completely switch up this post: Thank you for protecting my right to voice my opinion.
That is all.
http://today.reuters.com/investing/financeArticle.aspx?type=bondsNews&storyID=2006-03-15T174222Z_01_N15403811_RTRIDST_0_CONGRESS-FINANCIAL-GAMBLING.XML
That’s a long freaking link!
Synopsis: The government hates the fact that close to 12 BILLION DOLLARS is wagered online every year by Americans. And not one of those suckers in DC (or even the local governments here) are seeing one cent of it. They are sick. They can’t believe that US dollars are going offshore. *big surprise* Wow! Really? You mean Americans are spending 60% of their hard earned dollars (after taxes, which by the way are not DOING ANYTHING) on what they want to? Entertainment? And your PISSED OFF because we’re not getting taxed on our spending? Our winnings? Our entertainment? Guess what, here's how I'm sticking it to you. By continuing to contribute funds and investing in overseas operations. They're the only ones making money anyway.
The poor governemtn. Boo hoo. Seriously. Don’t you feel like you’ve ripped us off enough?
You know, before college I was this hippy. Some kid that thought that these welfare programs, and all this government aid…this is a great thing for people. As I got older and went through college, and now have graduated and am realizing that I could be earning 30% MORE CASH if it wasn’t for the god damned government that does nothing for me I’ve moved towards a more conservative view of things. Purely financial.
I can’t think of this stuff. It’s absolutely sickening. The amount of corruption and screw ups across the board. And the thing that makes me ever sicker? All of these people bashing Bush. Is that the best that you can come up with? Do you realize that your hard earned tax dollars are going to a majority of white guys in suits that just show up for work and say “yay or nay” and the hardest thing they had to do to get elected for the LEAST WORK TO PAY RATIO JOB was to get elected. By whom? Not by me. I’m so disturbed by the whole system that I want to puke. I want to scream. Let’s see, I make about TWENTY TIMES LESS THAN SOME GUY THAT HEADED UP THE MONORAIL PROJECT. That’s right. If you weren’t aware, he was awarded a RAISE for doing NOTHING from about $680K to $750K. Don’t quote me on that number, that’s what I remember seeing this past summer in the Times. Ok, so I pay close to $10K in tax every year…it would take 75 OTHER HARD WORKING AMERICANS to pay this guy’s salary? Oh, and remind me about how much has been done on the monorail this past year? That’s what I thought.
The worst part of it all…the worst part of it…and I have to repeat this to make sure everyone understands…is the apathy. There’s just so much to deal with, and all of us are completely useless that we end up not caring. People are shocked when they read or hear or sense my anger regarding these situations when I tell them I don’t vote. What does ONE vote out of MILLIONS matter? If I had voted in the last election would it have changed anything? No. Do I live in a county with 150 other people where a vote could be decided by my vote? No. I don’t. And voting for these people is just prolonging this idiotic system of just paying blindly. I drive by these hilarious signs every day that say, “Your Nickel At Work”. HAH! My NICKEL? MINE? Only 5 cents? It looks like I only put in 5 cents because all you did was RUIN THE GODDAMNED ROAD AND NOW I’M STUCK HERE WATCHING SOME TEENAGE KID EARN A BETTER HOURLY RATE THAN ME BECAUSE HE’S GETTING PAID BY THE STATE AND ALSO RECEIVES HAZARD PAY. Look, he just flipped the fucking sign from “STOP” to “SLOW”. Well done sir. I hope you die of cancer from my fumes.
So, I’m almost off of work. I will stop venting now. Every now and then…like a boiling pot full of water…steam must get out. Before I go, I’d just like to say: Dear Government: Thank you for trying to make laws to ensure I live a miserable life. Thank you for stealing from me. Thank you for being worthless. But most importantly, and to completely switch up this post: Thank you for protecting my right to voice my opinion.
That is all.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Incorrigible
Some people just don’t learn or want to learn. Some people lack passion in life. Some people don’t have things that they “love to do” or at the least hobbies or “past-times”. I wonder what these people do with themselves. They watch TV all night. Attaching themselves to some sort of “drama” unfolding. Something so fake and pre-made to some jello molding that everyone loves it. Everyone eats it. And the next day at work, everyone can’t stop talking about how much they loved the jello. In fact, they can’t wait until next week when maybe they’ll come out with another flavor of jello. Why? Because their lives have become so FREAKING boring that they’ve attached themselves to this jello. Made it their lives. “Oh really? You like lime? Nah, I prefer Orange myself”.
All this time. Wasted. Over stupid, inconsequential jello that they probably won’t even remember 3 years from now. What are you going to be like when you’re 60? Looking back over a life full of nothing? I pray my life doesn’t become this. Sometimes I don’t have the will to fight it. I fall in to the trap. I’m tired from work and the commute. All I want to do is turn off and be robotic. Watch as my life slowly passes before my eyes. Another commercial? Another breaking news story? Excellent. I would cut my freaking cable subscription if I didn’t love sports so much.
But of course the people that poke holes in what I’ve said say, “But wait…you said you watch TV for the sports?” Yes, I do. You know why? Because every sport I watch on TV, I’ve played, or I can play, or I am playing. I’ve boxed, thrown the football, hit the baseball, shot the basketball, chipped the golf ball…I know what it feels like to be every single one of these people. So I can relate to them. And since they are doing it at such a higher level than I am in every situation, it is a spectacle. You can even apply it to music. I love watching concerts on PBS. Maybe this is a sort of rant about the crap that is on TV compared to the stuff I LIKE. No one cares about Dr. 90210 and how X woman has been augmented and wasted all this money and will still feel ugly afterwards. Or, oh my gosh, Jessica Simpson did what? Really people. Does anyone even wonder why no one is talking about your life? Maybe it’s because you’re not doing ANYTHING with it?
Chill out man.
Ok, chilling.
I refuse to leave this life without creating good memories and having the ability to tell good stories. I refuse to revert back to some friends or family guy episode to make it seem like my life has joy. I refuse to let my 9-5 and this traffic crush my spirit. Because deep down, I’m still a happy kid that doesn’t want to kill anyone. I know it’s still in me. Sometimes I get scared because I feel like I’m on cruise control. And then there’s that point that jerks me out of that and reminds me that not everything in life is so smooth. I’ve been on cruise control for almost 2 years now. I am afraid the longer I wait the larger the destruction…almost like the big earthquake that will hit us soon. I call it regression to the mean. Others call it karma. You find that line you walk, everyday, and you are content with it. That you can call your mean. Everything in your life will be within a certain range. However, there will be those outliers. Those are the ones we should be thankful for. The ones that change our lives, that are so far gone from the mean that they change it, or in some bad instances are completely erased…now I’m babbling.
Seriously though. How do people survive this? I guess for everyone it is different. For me it is different from everyone else. I will try my best to realize how precious my life is. Because as far as I know, I’m not getting another chance at this…and it’s just a big sleep from here on out.
I’ll get off my soapbox again.
My head is itchy, I haven’t taken a shower for two days. I probably stink. On Wednesday I’m going in for more shots for my hair. I am praying my hair grows back before the wedding. I am praying it doesn’t get worse. I have seen pictures of people who have completely lost their hair. Are completely bald. I like my hair, even though I like it super short. I think I will cut it again tonight.
I loved our soccer game. We played very well. Almost everything is moved in to the new house. I am finally starting to settle as the smell of new paint dissipates. My flat tire removal isn’t going as well as previously planned. I have 41 days left.
All this time. Wasted. Over stupid, inconsequential jello that they probably won’t even remember 3 years from now. What are you going to be like when you’re 60? Looking back over a life full of nothing? I pray my life doesn’t become this. Sometimes I don’t have the will to fight it. I fall in to the trap. I’m tired from work and the commute. All I want to do is turn off and be robotic. Watch as my life slowly passes before my eyes. Another commercial? Another breaking news story? Excellent. I would cut my freaking cable subscription if I didn’t love sports so much.
But of course the people that poke holes in what I’ve said say, “But wait…you said you watch TV for the sports?” Yes, I do. You know why? Because every sport I watch on TV, I’ve played, or I can play, or I am playing. I’ve boxed, thrown the football, hit the baseball, shot the basketball, chipped the golf ball…I know what it feels like to be every single one of these people. So I can relate to them. And since they are doing it at such a higher level than I am in every situation, it is a spectacle. You can even apply it to music. I love watching concerts on PBS. Maybe this is a sort of rant about the crap that is on TV compared to the stuff I LIKE. No one cares about Dr. 90210 and how X woman has been augmented and wasted all this money and will still feel ugly afterwards. Or, oh my gosh, Jessica Simpson did what? Really people. Does anyone even wonder why no one is talking about your life? Maybe it’s because you’re not doing ANYTHING with it?
Chill out man.
Ok, chilling.
I refuse to leave this life without creating good memories and having the ability to tell good stories. I refuse to revert back to some friends or family guy episode to make it seem like my life has joy. I refuse to let my 9-5 and this traffic crush my spirit. Because deep down, I’m still a happy kid that doesn’t want to kill anyone. I know it’s still in me. Sometimes I get scared because I feel like I’m on cruise control. And then there’s that point that jerks me out of that and reminds me that not everything in life is so smooth. I’ve been on cruise control for almost 2 years now. I am afraid the longer I wait the larger the destruction…almost like the big earthquake that will hit us soon. I call it regression to the mean. Others call it karma. You find that line you walk, everyday, and you are content with it. That you can call your mean. Everything in your life will be within a certain range. However, there will be those outliers. Those are the ones we should be thankful for. The ones that change our lives, that are so far gone from the mean that they change it, or in some bad instances are completely erased…now I’m babbling.
Seriously though. How do people survive this? I guess for everyone it is different. For me it is different from everyone else. I will try my best to realize how precious my life is. Because as far as I know, I’m not getting another chance at this…and it’s just a big sleep from here on out.
I’ll get off my soapbox again.
My head is itchy, I haven’t taken a shower for two days. I probably stink. On Wednesday I’m going in for more shots for my hair. I am praying my hair grows back before the wedding. I am praying it doesn’t get worse. I have seen pictures of people who have completely lost their hair. Are completely bald. I like my hair, even though I like it super short. I think I will cut it again tonight.
I loved our soccer game. We played very well. Almost everything is moved in to the new house. I am finally starting to settle as the smell of new paint dissipates. My flat tire removal isn’t going as well as previously planned. I have 41 days left.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)