Just like stupid people.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Retards..
Ok. So.. this article only proves my point that we, as a people, can't even say shit.
http://movies.yahoo.com/mv/news/va/20080810/121842511100.html
When the word 'retard' is used, someone gets offended. In this case, it's the Special Olympics, along with 21 other disability groups nationwide. And what are they going to do? They're going to boycott Ben Stiller's latest movie, Tropic Thunder.
Goody. Just what we need - a bunch of fucking retards boycotting a film because they refer to someone in the film as retarded. So fucking what? Do you think the real retards in the world actually care? Are there a bunch of kids with Downs Syndrome sitting around in a huddle somewhere going, "fuck Stiller, that fucking asshole! He can't use the word 'retard!' How inappropriate!"
Loosen up. It's a word. And does the movie actually refer to people with mental disabilities? Are they specifically picked out and picked on? Is Stiller actually pointing out these people and purposely making fun of them? No. I don't believe he is. We don't see people saying 'where's my baseball' (reference to What About Mary's retard guy) or people bumping into walls or drooling in any way in the film; it's a movie about making a war film, for Christ's sake.
I don't think people who are mentally challenged are concerned about whether or not they're thought of as retards. They're just trying to live their lives as best as possible. And, have you ever interacted with a person with Downs Syndrome? They're the happiest, carefree people in the world. They make people with positive attitudes look like Eeyore.
It's one thing to use the word 'nigger', 'chink', 'jap' or any other deragatory term; people who are called these can comprehend them. Then they get butthurt for being called something deragatory (and for the record, you can call me anything you want, make fun of my parents and lineage and call me a cracker-ass fat retard with bad skin. I don't care). But that's neither here nor there. The point is - people who are mentally challenged don't comprehend it so they're neither upset or offended by it. It is these groups that represent them that get all butt hurt. They're the ones who have to go out and boycott this movie. It is them that give meaning to the word 'retard' because they're reacting to it.
Let it go and it will mean nothing. You haven't even seen the movie yet (I heard about it through a collegue) so why the fuck are you making a big stink about it? Mr. Stiller, in my opinion, did not make this movie to ridicule mentally challenged people. He made it to make others laugh. And, last time I checked, there weren't any "special people" in the movie. They're just poking fun at someone who is slow. And there are still a lot of stupid people out there that equate the word 'retard' with someone who drools and wears a helmet while walking around with their walker. These people will make fun regardless of whether there is a movie or not that uses deragatory terms. However, I bet you that these people are a dwindling minority.
Political correctness is bad. It stifles, it dumbifies, it holds back free thought. And, as I've said a million times, people need to be offended at times. In this case, the supposed targets don't even know what's going on. They're lucky that they don't. They are, in my opinion, better off in a lot of ways than those of us who actually comprehend.
So, to the Special Olympics organization I say this: good for you to address this because YOU are the true retards. You're wasting your time with a movie that will do fine with or without your boycott.
http://movies.yahoo.com/mv/news/va/20080810/121842511100.html
When the word 'retard' is used, someone gets offended. In this case, it's the Special Olympics, along with 21 other disability groups nationwide. And what are they going to do? They're going to boycott Ben Stiller's latest movie, Tropic Thunder.
Goody. Just what we need - a bunch of fucking retards boycotting a film because they refer to someone in the film as retarded. So fucking what? Do you think the real retards in the world actually care? Are there a bunch of kids with Downs Syndrome sitting around in a huddle somewhere going, "fuck Stiller, that fucking asshole! He can't use the word 'retard!' How inappropriate!"
Loosen up. It's a word. And does the movie actually refer to people with mental disabilities? Are they specifically picked out and picked on? Is Stiller actually pointing out these people and purposely making fun of them? No. I don't believe he is. We don't see people saying 'where's my baseball' (reference to What About Mary's retard guy) or people bumping into walls or drooling in any way in the film; it's a movie about making a war film, for Christ's sake.
I don't think people who are mentally challenged are concerned about whether or not they're thought of as retards. They're just trying to live their lives as best as possible. And, have you ever interacted with a person with Downs Syndrome? They're the happiest, carefree people in the world. They make people with positive attitudes look like Eeyore.
It's one thing to use the word 'nigger', 'chink', 'jap' or any other deragatory term; people who are called these can comprehend them. Then they get butthurt for being called something deragatory (and for the record, you can call me anything you want, make fun of my parents and lineage and call me a cracker-ass fat retard with bad skin. I don't care). But that's neither here nor there. The point is - people who are mentally challenged don't comprehend it so they're neither upset or offended by it. It is these groups that represent them that get all butt hurt. They're the ones who have to go out and boycott this movie. It is them that give meaning to the word 'retard' because they're reacting to it.
Let it go and it will mean nothing. You haven't even seen the movie yet (I heard about it through a collegue) so why the fuck are you making a big stink about it? Mr. Stiller, in my opinion, did not make this movie to ridicule mentally challenged people. He made it to make others laugh. And, last time I checked, there weren't any "special people" in the movie. They're just poking fun at someone who is slow. And there are still a lot of stupid people out there that equate the word 'retard' with someone who drools and wears a helmet while walking around with their walker. These people will make fun regardless of whether there is a movie or not that uses deragatory terms. However, I bet you that these people are a dwindling minority.
Political correctness is bad. It stifles, it dumbifies, it holds back free thought. And, as I've said a million times, people need to be offended at times. In this case, the supposed targets don't even know what's going on. They're lucky that they don't. They are, in my opinion, better off in a lot of ways than those of us who actually comprehend.
So, to the Special Olympics organization I say this: good for you to address this because YOU are the true retards. You're wasting your time with a movie that will do fine with or without your boycott.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
A simple equation
((Beach sand) + (a volleyball )) / co-workers = a damn good time.
There is a high probability that I will be sore as fuck tomorrow morning. And there's something to be said about a farmer's tan. Sexy!
There is a high probability that I will be sore as fuck tomorrow morning. And there's something to be said about a farmer's tan. Sexy!
Sunday, August 03, 2008
30 oz of pleasure
So a buddy of mine moved into a new apartment. After some errands I went down to check it out - boy is it nice. Looks can be deceiving from the front. It's frackin' huge. Very art deco, too.
Anyway, we hit the beers in the fridge (I think there were at least 18 bottles when we started. We ended with maybe 6 or 7) and finished off the last of his absinthe. Then a friend of his showed up and we all went down to Damon's, a hip seafood and steak joint with fine cocktails (and desserts to boot). I did not partake in the libations as I was already fucked up. I didn't need another. What I did need, though, was a fat 30oz prime rib, rare. Along with the very tasty tomato bisque, I was in heaven. I haven't had prime rib in over a year. It was almost better than sex. Almost.
It's funny because I didn't go through any of the horrid feelings I thought I'd go through after not eating meat for so long. In fact, I didn't even have a hangover this morning. The gods be praised.
So, the next morning (I passed out on his floor), after a brief conversation about how delusional some people who believe in god are (it started off about another friend of ours, actually, who is a co-worker of his) I set off for home. On the drive home, I spied a billboard from Atheists Alliance International. I guess there's an atheist convention in Long Beach coming up (which I may have to check out).
Location of the billboard: somewhere after the City of Industry (going southbound) off the I-5 freeway. It says: Don't believe in God? You're not alone.
Anyway, we hit the beers in the fridge (I think there were at least 18 bottles when we started. We ended with maybe 6 or 7) and finished off the last of his absinthe. Then a friend of his showed up and we all went down to Damon's, a hip seafood and steak joint with fine cocktails (and desserts to boot). I did not partake in the libations as I was already fucked up. I didn't need another. What I did need, though, was a fat 30oz prime rib, rare. Along with the very tasty tomato bisque, I was in heaven. I haven't had prime rib in over a year. It was almost better than sex. Almost.
It's funny because I didn't go through any of the horrid feelings I thought I'd go through after not eating meat for so long. In fact, I didn't even have a hangover this morning. The gods be praised.
So, the next morning (I passed out on his floor), after a brief conversation about how delusional some people who believe in god are (it started off about another friend of ours, actually, who is a co-worker of his) I set off for home. On the drive home, I spied a billboard from Atheists Alliance International. I guess there's an atheist convention in Long Beach coming up (which I may have to check out).
Location of the billboard: somewhere after the City of Industry (going southbound) off the I-5 freeway. It says: Don't believe in God? You're not alone.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
My next tat..
Might as well get one before I'm forced to get one. I was thinking - the back of the neck but I already have a tat there.. so, this will go on the inside of my forearm. I'm debating whether to write the word the barcode is in the space or just take the space out altogether.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Ventura County FTW!
Yeah, boi. I sooo love teh Ventura County! VC FTW!
not.
I dislike any place where they charge gross amounts so I can access their beaches.
But, I hope to take advantage as I've brought my camera for some foe toe graffs.
I guess it's okay for scenic stuff..
Oh.. I've decided to make myself available for correspondence.. if anyone is, at all, interested.. cvb.blog (at) gmail.com. Please.. send any hate mail, requests for marriage, notes of fancy and all of that other hullabaloo there. I need a new ePenpal.
not.
I dislike any place where they charge gross amounts so I can access their beaches.
But, I hope to take advantage as I've brought my camera for some foe toe graffs.
I guess it's okay for scenic stuff..
Oh.. I've decided to make myself available for correspondence.. if anyone is, at all, interested.. cvb.blog (at) gmail.com. Please.. send any hate mail, requests for marriage, notes of fancy and all of that other hullabaloo there. I need a new ePenpal.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Humbled..
Firstly, I have to say I've recovered nicely from my bout of food poisoning, whether it was salmonella or not. It doesn't matter. The blood is gone as is the pain. I can now eat with comfort once again. The good thing about getting sick is that I lost 6 pounds. The bad, aside from the discomfort, is that I'll probably regain that weight within a few days.
So I was talking to my head writer this morning - he did a major production for Comic Con this year.. lots of video with interviews and such (they had the chance to meet Jennifer Connelly and I wasn't there. I must have done something wrong in a previous life. Terribly). Anyway, he's terribly proud of his work and what he's done to bring the site I command to where it's at and I dare say, he's done a fabulous job. It is because of him that I don't walk away from the project I started (I'm not too terribly interested in it. I never really was) almost five years ago. So, we were chatting on the phone this morning and, as he was telling me all that I had just summed up in this paragraph, he had imparted advice that I hear once in awhile but never really take seriously, though I know it's good advice and many seem to heed except myself. He tells me to do what I'm passionate about (he's passionate about film.... very passionate, and he thinks my passion lies on the same path as his. It doesn't). Then he goes on to tell me I should find a night job and work with him to do this more. I was unemployed for a year and a half doing it and I wasn't fulfilled. But, I know where he's coming from and it's humbling to see him doing something that he truly believes in. Something that drives and motivates him to claw his way towards his goal, his ultimate nirvana. And, he wants to bring me along on his ride. I used to think that it was I who was bringing him along with me but roles have changed and I'm now being dragged along on his coattails. And I'm cool with that.
But, he brings to me a point that seems to be a theme in my life. Do what makes you happy. Unfortunately, I've been unable to find that which makes me happy. The closest thing so far has been my official discovery of philosophy and my pursuit of higher learning in that direction. I'm sure, in time, I'll need to find a night job in order to fulfill one of my goals (it's not necessary that I share that at this moment) but that's not something I need to worry about right now. I think, and this leads me to another theme in my life, that the only thing stopping me from just doing what I should do is fear. But who isn't scared of actually chasing their dreams? Especially when one is already established (however established one is in indentured servitude, I should say) in one's life and has a level of comfort. Who wants to fuck that all up for the unknown? Most people don't. Those that do and fail should be commended and honoured. Those that do and succeed should be worshiped and treasured. They are the dreamers who make reality happen.
And I am humbled by that.
So I was talking to my head writer this morning - he did a major production for Comic Con this year.. lots of video with interviews and such (they had the chance to meet Jennifer Connelly and I wasn't there. I must have done something wrong in a previous life. Terribly). Anyway, he's terribly proud of his work and what he's done to bring the site I command to where it's at and I dare say, he's done a fabulous job. It is because of him that I don't walk away from the project I started (I'm not too terribly interested in it. I never really was) almost five years ago. So, we were chatting on the phone this morning and, as he was telling me all that I had just summed up in this paragraph, he had imparted advice that I hear once in awhile but never really take seriously, though I know it's good advice and many seem to heed except myself. He tells me to do what I'm passionate about (he's passionate about film.... very passionate, and he thinks my passion lies on the same path as his. It doesn't). Then he goes on to tell me I should find a night job and work with him to do this more. I was unemployed for a year and a half doing it and I wasn't fulfilled. But, I know where he's coming from and it's humbling to see him doing something that he truly believes in. Something that drives and motivates him to claw his way towards his goal, his ultimate nirvana. And, he wants to bring me along on his ride. I used to think that it was I who was bringing him along with me but roles have changed and I'm now being dragged along on his coattails. And I'm cool with that.
But, he brings to me a point that seems to be a theme in my life. Do what makes you happy. Unfortunately, I've been unable to find that which makes me happy. The closest thing so far has been my official discovery of philosophy and my pursuit of higher learning in that direction. I'm sure, in time, I'll need to find a night job in order to fulfill one of my goals (it's not necessary that I share that at this moment) but that's not something I need to worry about right now. I think, and this leads me to another theme in my life, that the only thing stopping me from just doing what I should do is fear. But who isn't scared of actually chasing their dreams? Especially when one is already established (however established one is in indentured servitude, I should say) in one's life and has a level of comfort. Who wants to fuck that all up for the unknown? Most people don't. Those that do and fail should be commended and honoured. Those that do and succeed should be worshiped and treasured. They are the dreamers who make reality happen.
And I am humbled by that.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Comic Con 2008: Day 2
Not happening. I think I have some sort of food poisoning. Water shouldn't be pouring out of certain orifices like they are.
I'm miserable.
It sucks because there was a panel with my favourite author today - Dean Koontz. I'm pretty bummed.
So, to Basic (that bar I was at yesterday): your drinks are nice and so is Cindy the bartender, but your pizza sucks. (I know it was the pizza cos that's the only thing I ate yesterday)
ADDENDUM:
I think I may have been infected with salmonella. I think it's the blood squirting out of my ass that's the giveaway. So what the fuck do I do now? I don't even know who my doctor is, let alone where it's at. Oh well.. let's see what happens.
I'm miserable.
It sucks because there was a panel with my favourite author today - Dean Koontz. I'm pretty bummed.
So, to Basic (that bar I was at yesterday): your drinks are nice and so is Cindy the bartender, but your pizza sucks. (I know it was the pizza cos that's the only thing I ate yesterday)
ADDENDUM:
I think I may have been infected with salmonella. I think it's the blood squirting out of my ass that's the giveaway. So what the fuck do I do now? I don't even know who my doctor is, let alone where it's at. Oh well.. let's see what happens.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Comic Con 2008: Day 1
Day One, Comic Con and the freaks are out in full force. It's worth the price of admission, which is ZERO. It's good to have press cred's. Currently, I'm sitting in this place called Basic, on J Street and Tenth. As the name suggests, this place is pretty simple. It's sparse; it looks like it was a garage some time in the distant past. And now, there are two bars, a pool table (purple tabletop, very nice) and a very cute bartender. Very. (Note to self - you really need to get out more).
Anyway..
I sit here, drinking my overpriced single malt Scotch, watching the droves of fucking retards with their day-passes to the convention walking around in costume as tributes to some stupid animation on Adult Swim. Sure, I shouldn't bag on these diehard fans who live only to be Naruto or Pikachu or whatever.. isn't Cowboy Bebob totally dead? The only plus side to this is that there are a ton of geek girls.. HOT geek girls, dressed as their favourite characters.. scantally clad characters. Oh, the humanity. I even saw some idiot dressed up like Strongbad. C'mon, Homestar Runner was so 2006. Get with the present, for fuck's sake. Is it even still popular?
So the convention center is grossly overpacked with Clearasil-needing nerds, kids without parents (for the day - hooray for them!) and people who are either "Professional" or in the media (like myself). Hell, I even passed Margaret Cho on the street. She looked like ass.
But anyway.. I didn't get here early enough and I've been missing the panels I want to see. Hopefully, I can get into the Ghost Hunters panel at 3p.. I'd better hurry! But the conversation with the bartender is nice.
So, until next time!
Anyway..
I sit here, drinking my overpriced single malt Scotch, watching the droves of fucking retards with their day-passes to the convention walking around in costume as tributes to some stupid animation on Adult Swim. Sure, I shouldn't bag on these diehard fans who live only to be Naruto or Pikachu or whatever.. isn't Cowboy Bebob totally dead? The only plus side to this is that there are a ton of geek girls.. HOT geek girls, dressed as their favourite characters.. scantally clad characters. Oh, the humanity. I even saw some idiot dressed up like Strongbad. C'mon, Homestar Runner was so 2006. Get with the present, for fuck's sake. Is it even still popular?
So the convention center is grossly overpacked with Clearasil-needing nerds, kids without parents (for the day - hooray for them!) and people who are either "Professional" or in the media (like myself). Hell, I even passed Margaret Cho on the street. She looked like ass.
But anyway.. I didn't get here early enough and I've been missing the panels I want to see. Hopefully, I can get into the Ghost Hunters panel at 3p.. I'd better hurry! But the conversation with the bartender is nice.
So, until next time!
Dot Dot Dot
It's that time again where students register for school and life becomes divided between academia and the 40 hour humdrum known as corporate America (aka, the American Dream).
I've realized that my life beginning in August will become dedicated to learning, dedicated to advancing and dedicated to being dedicated. I've always been apprehensive to the whole sacrificing my personal life in order further the rest of my life thing. It's been a hard journey.
I took one class last semester to see if I could do it. And, I did do it and I didn't even try. Now I've got two classes, a 40 hour work week, a personal life I'm not willing to sacrifice and a whole lot of other shit that I will need to juggle. And for what? To someday get that elusive degree I've been chasing my whole life? That piece of paper that will somehow validate who I am and give credence to what I stand for? To prove what is already known by my peers and me - that I'm an intellectual? (I hate intellectuals. They're stuffy, serious and lack any amusement. And they're pompous. I use the term lightly)
I guess the point is - I need to sacrifice something and that something will be my personal life. School will become my personal life. It will become my everything. The other aspects of my life will become secondary. Even my job, which I can't say has my complete and utter attention as it is. It will have even less.
If I'm to attain my goal, I have to sacrifice. I've got to suffer. It's not a new concept. I've suffered most of my life. What's a few more years? I just hope I won't succumb to the fear that so wonderfully dictates my life.
I've realized that my life beginning in August will become dedicated to learning, dedicated to advancing and dedicated to being dedicated. I've always been apprehensive to the whole sacrificing my personal life in order further the rest of my life thing. It's been a hard journey.
I took one class last semester to see if I could do it. And, I did do it and I didn't even try. Now I've got two classes, a 40 hour work week, a personal life I'm not willing to sacrifice and a whole lot of other shit that I will need to juggle. And for what? To someday get that elusive degree I've been chasing my whole life? That piece of paper that will somehow validate who I am and give credence to what I stand for? To prove what is already known by my peers and me - that I'm an intellectual? (I hate intellectuals. They're stuffy, serious and lack any amusement. And they're pompous. I use the term lightly)
I guess the point is - I need to sacrifice something and that something will be my personal life. School will become my personal life. It will become my everything. The other aspects of my life will become secondary. Even my job, which I can't say has my complete and utter attention as it is. It will have even less.
If I'm to attain my goal, I have to sacrifice. I've got to suffer. It's not a new concept. I've suffered most of my life. What's a few more years? I just hope I won't succumb to the fear that so wonderfully dictates my life.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
What is laziness?
la·zy /ˈleɪzi/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[ley-zee] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation adjective, -zi·er, -zi·est, verb, -zied, -zy·ing.
–adjective 1. averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
2. causing idleness or indolence: a hot, lazy afternoon.
3. slow-moving; sluggish: a lazy stream.
4. (of a livestock brand) placed on its side instead of upright. –verb (used without object)
5. to laze.
I'm lazy. I've been all of my life. I never really thought about why I was lazy. I just was. And when I didn't do something, I really just chalked it up to that and called it a day. It's something that isn't easily changeable and I've never fought it. If one were to ask me, I'd say that people don't change, we just adapt and react with intent.
Anyway, I was thinking about a conversation I had some time ago about laziness and I think I understand now why I am lazy (though I think this could possibly work out for many people). It's because I don't care. I don't care about anything. I don't care if I get my work done, I don't care if I go to work, I don't care if I die tomorrow. I really don't care. If I have to exert any effort, chances are I'm not going to care about what it is I need to exert effort for.
"I don't care" can be my catch phrase. My mantra.
Maybe I'm ADD. Nothing keeps my interest long enough for me to care about it. And, because of that, it takes great effort to do accomplish things I need to accomplish. Some things, if they touch me emotionally, will get more attention and more time devoted to eventually becoming boring.
Video games, chess and thinking too much are different, though. They keep me very entertained. But, these things don't really accomplish anything (well, thinking does but that's debatable even).
So, to me, laziness is borne from apathy. And apathy is borne from.. I don't know. This is the next step.
–adjective 1. averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
2. causing idleness or indolence: a hot, lazy afternoon.
3. slow-moving; sluggish: a lazy stream.
4. (of a livestock brand) placed on its side instead of upright. –verb (used without object)
5. to laze.
I'm lazy. I've been all of my life. I never really thought about why I was lazy. I just was. And when I didn't do something, I really just chalked it up to that and called it a day. It's something that isn't easily changeable and I've never fought it. If one were to ask me, I'd say that people don't change, we just adapt and react with intent.
Anyway, I was thinking about a conversation I had some time ago about laziness and I think I understand now why I am lazy (though I think this could possibly work out for many people). It's because I don't care. I don't care about anything. I don't care if I get my work done, I don't care if I go to work, I don't care if I die tomorrow. I really don't care. If I have to exert any effort, chances are I'm not going to care about what it is I need to exert effort for.
"I don't care" can be my catch phrase. My mantra.
Maybe I'm ADD. Nothing keeps my interest long enough for me to care about it. And, because of that, it takes great effort to do accomplish things I need to accomplish. Some things, if they touch me emotionally, will get more attention and more time devoted to eventually becoming boring.
Video games, chess and thinking too much are different, though. They keep me very entertained. But, these things don't really accomplish anything (well, thinking does but that's debatable even).
So, to me, laziness is borne from apathy. And apathy is borne from.. I don't know. This is the next step.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Oh what a day it will be..
Currently, it is about 10 till 2am and I'm just now getting situated to go to bed, but not before I place an entry in my handy dandy little blog.
Actually, I should be asleep now, dreaming of wonder and excitement, dreaming of grand futures and amazing pasts; I should just be fucking asleep, really. But, no, I'm not. I was out and about at a dive bar in Rosemead, CA., where there is a Chinese restaurant every 2 feet and they're all seafood (I gotta come back to check some of these places out!). The place: Spike's Bar and Grill. The night's theme: The Breakfast Klub. The band: Nocturna. See, I went with a friend who said we should go see this band because they're a Siouxsie cover band and Siouxsie is cool (everything before Peekaboo that is). They should be on at 11p but they're usually late so no worries if you are.. late, that is... he says to me (I'm paraphrasing, I'm sure).
Actually, despite the smokey, crowded environment (the clove cigarettes really added a touch of.. something), I thought it was a nifty place. Not to sound racist or anything, but I've never seen so many Mexicans that were either Rockabilly or gothic.. all in one place! Amazing! Seriously, I thought only white people were gothic.. or Emo. Taaaannnggeeennttt! I digress. (they're all a buncha poseurs in my book anyway.. wannabe's)
So, Nocturna starts out with their rendition of Israel. Then they go into another song I'm not familiar with. The lead singer, a total Siouxsie wannabe, actually sounded great; she just looked like a wounded monkey. With thick, black eyeliner. And a poofy wig. Which, I think, was actually her real hair. Her get-up was a little lewd (no, she didn't show anything but it was still lewd) but whatever. I didn't go to look at her.
They ended the set with Spellbound, which was really cool. I thought it was a great cap to a wonderful set. I also liked Love in a Void and.. and.. damn this being tired shit! I can't remember the song! Let's see.. I Heard a Rumour. That song was keen.. but the other one I really liked.. Damn it!! Damn it all to hell! Fuck! I wonder what it'd be like if I actually had a few to drink!
Anyway, it'll come back to me. So.. to sum up.
Rosemead: a shithole.
Spike's: a dump within a hole.
Nocturna: worth seeing in a dump.
Not having alcohol: just fine by me. I don't need it at that late of an hour. I want to wake up on time for work.
My friend and I are seeing them again in August. They play tomorrow, too, in Santa Monica.. Or is that today? Whatever.
Click Post and then to bed. Nite!
Actually, I should be asleep now, dreaming of wonder and excitement, dreaming of grand futures and amazing pasts; I should just be fucking asleep, really. But, no, I'm not. I was out and about at a dive bar in Rosemead, CA., where there is a Chinese restaurant every 2 feet and they're all seafood (I gotta come back to check some of these places out!). The place: Spike's Bar and Grill. The night's theme: The Breakfast Klub. The band: Nocturna. See, I went with a friend who said we should go see this band because they're a Siouxsie cover band and Siouxsie is cool (everything before Peekaboo that is). They should be on at 11p but they're usually late so no worries if you are.. late, that is... he says to me (I'm paraphrasing, I'm sure).
Actually, despite the smokey, crowded environment (the clove cigarettes really added a touch of.. something), I thought it was a nifty place. Not to sound racist or anything, but I've never seen so many Mexicans that were either Rockabilly or gothic.. all in one place! Amazing! Seriously, I thought only white people were gothic.. or Emo. Taaaannnggeeennttt! I digress. (they're all a buncha poseurs in my book anyway.. wannabe's)
So, Nocturna starts out with their rendition of Israel. Then they go into another song I'm not familiar with. The lead singer, a total Siouxsie wannabe, actually sounded great; she just looked like a wounded monkey. With thick, black eyeliner. And a poofy wig. Which, I think, was actually her real hair. Her get-up was a little lewd (no, she didn't show anything but it was still lewd) but whatever. I didn't go to look at her.
They ended the set with Spellbound, which was really cool. I thought it was a great cap to a wonderful set. I also liked Love in a Void and.. and.. damn this being tired shit! I can't remember the song! Let's see.. I Heard a Rumour. That song was keen.. but the other one I really liked.. Damn it!! Damn it all to hell! Fuck! I wonder what it'd be like if I actually had a few to drink!
Anyway, it'll come back to me. So.. to sum up.
Rosemead: a shithole.
Spike's: a dump within a hole.
Nocturna: worth seeing in a dump.
Not having alcohol: just fine by me. I don't need it at that late of an hour. I want to wake up on time for work.
My friend and I are seeing them again in August. They play tomorrow, too, in Santa Monica.. Or is that today? Whatever.
Click Post and then to bed. Nite!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
WTF??!
Maybe it's me but I'm thinking everyone's (and when I say everyone, I mean everyone I know..) pissed off at me for some reason.
Maybe it's because I didn't post a Purity Test (go here: www.puritytest.net) on a reasonable time table (I'll post my score later. I'm at work).
Maybe it's because I didn't go to someone's daughter's birthday and, subsequently, didn't help them with promo photos for their new hair salon.
Maybe I didn't return a phone call or two when I should have.
Whatever.. In a hundred years, who's gonna care anyway?
Edit:
Just took the purity test myself - the 500 question one.. A thousand questions is too many..
My score? 56.2%
I thought it'd be lower.
Maybe it's because I didn't post a Purity Test (go here: www.puritytest.net) on a reasonable time table (I'll post my score later. I'm at work).
Maybe it's because I didn't go to someone's daughter's birthday and, subsequently, didn't help them with promo photos for their new hair salon.
Maybe I didn't return a phone call or two when I should have.
Whatever.. In a hundred years, who's gonna care anyway?
Edit:
Just took the purity test myself - the 500 question one.. A thousand questions is too many..
My score? 56.2%
I thought it'd be lower.
Monday, July 07, 2008
What Wendy's is Not...
Wendy's is NOT Vegetarian-friendly. No sir-friggin'-Bob.
There is NOTHING on the Wendy's menu that is even REMOTELY kind to a person who does not eat meat. Nothing.
Looking at the menu, there is one thing - a Caesar salad. Okay. I'll have that. So my question is -- WHO THE FUCK PUTS BACON BITS IN A CAESAR FUCKING SALAD??!!?!
Apparently, Wendy's does.
So if you're a vegetarian, don't eat at Wendy's. Because they suck. They're against mother nature. They hate little babies and they make old people dress up in leather boots and nothing else.*
I'm going to bed now.. sick from eating bacon bits. Damn it.
* Wendy's in no way makes old people dress up in leather boots (and nothing else) nor do they hate little babies. But they still suck.
There is NOTHING on the Wendy's menu that is even REMOTELY kind to a person who does not eat meat. Nothing.
Looking at the menu, there is one thing - a Caesar salad. Okay. I'll have that. So my question is -- WHO THE FUCK PUTS BACON BITS IN A CAESAR FUCKING SALAD??!!?!
Apparently, Wendy's does.
So if you're a vegetarian, don't eat at Wendy's. Because they suck. They're against mother nature. They hate little babies and they make old people dress up in leather boots and nothing else.*
I'm going to bed now.. sick from eating bacon bits. Damn it.
* Wendy's in no way makes old people dress up in leather boots (and nothing else) nor do they hate little babies. But they still suck.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
What exactly is consciousness?
I was thinking, in the shower (because this is where I do most of my thinking), about consciousness. I've read many opinions on what we are in terms of chemical and electrical reactions. Our thoughts, decisions, actions; they're all based on chemical and electrical reactions in our brain. Does it come right down to that? A chemical reaction? My conscious thought, my intellect? It's a chemical reaction? Though it makes sense to me that this is all that it may be, I cannot quite accept that. I cannot accept that my being is simply a series of electrical pulses shooting between different synapses, of different chemical compounds interracting between each other. Well, I can accept it but I don't want to.
There are different philisophical thoughts about how we perceive reality. But how do we perceive ourselves? What is it in our minds that creates who we are? Is the statement, "I think, therefore I am" (I haven't studied Descarte to any degree. Yet.) valid? Or should it be, "I am, therefore I think"? In this statement, it is perceived that one exists and in one's existence, one is made up of chemical compounds that create the stimulus to think, process thought and perceive our own reality. Reality isn't the same for everyone. It can even be said that two people can perceive the same color differently. Neither are incorrect in their assessment. But it's still the same color.
I'm thinking as I write, so I apologise if things aren't so coherent. Again, as with so many other writings, it makes sense in my head.
The question still remains: is our consciousness simply chemical reactions within our brain that gives us intelligence, reason, thought and awareness? When we die, will that simply end? So far, with my belief system, I would have to say yes. I was not conscious before I was alive. I dare say I will not be conscious after my death. That is where I seem to have my difficulty. I will not be conscious after I am dead.
Maybe this is one of the true reasons why no one wishes to not believe in an afterlife or a deity. It is because they don't want to realise that life is a big waste of time (a waste of time in the sense that it is all for naught; that no matter what we do, we still die), that there really is no cosmic, grand scheme to it. We make our own purpose, we make our own reason, we justify our own life. This isn't a pessimistic thought. It is simply the way it is. To me. My reality. Yours may be different.
And I've gone terribly off tangent. But one can definitely see how my thought process works.
A haiku for your enjoyment:
Reality bites
Consciousness notwithstanding
Purple is not blue
There are different philisophical thoughts about how we perceive reality. But how do we perceive ourselves? What is it in our minds that creates who we are? Is the statement, "I think, therefore I am" (I haven't studied Descarte to any degree. Yet.) valid? Or should it be, "I am, therefore I think"? In this statement, it is perceived that one exists and in one's existence, one is made up of chemical compounds that create the stimulus to think, process thought and perceive our own reality. Reality isn't the same for everyone. It can even be said that two people can perceive the same color differently. Neither are incorrect in their assessment. But it's still the same color.
I'm thinking as I write, so I apologise if things aren't so coherent. Again, as with so many other writings, it makes sense in my head.
The question still remains: is our consciousness simply chemical reactions within our brain that gives us intelligence, reason, thought and awareness? When we die, will that simply end? So far, with my belief system, I would have to say yes. I was not conscious before I was alive. I dare say I will not be conscious after my death. That is where I seem to have my difficulty. I will not be conscious after I am dead.
Maybe this is one of the true reasons why no one wishes to not believe in an afterlife or a deity. It is because they don't want to realise that life is a big waste of time (a waste of time in the sense that it is all for naught; that no matter what we do, we still die), that there really is no cosmic, grand scheme to it. We make our own purpose, we make our own reason, we justify our own life. This isn't a pessimistic thought. It is simply the way it is. To me. My reality. Yours may be different.
And I've gone terribly off tangent. But one can definitely see how my thought process works.
A haiku for your enjoyment:
Reality bites
Consciousness notwithstanding
Purple is not blue
Saturday, July 05, 2008
A question..
I posed this question on Yahoo! Answers:
If one was raised in a non-descript room, never knowing anyone from the time of birth until adulthood, never coming into contact with another human, only knowing that something may be out there because that something is the supplier of sustinence and clothing (and education devoid of anything related to religion), would this one know the concept of god? Which god? Would this person think the hand that was supplying everything was the hand of god?
If this person was then introduced to people, how do you think this person would react?
I was thinking about how someone had once said that god (the Christian god, mind you) is known by everyone and that he permeates our being. So, I wonder - if someone was never introduced to any god, let alone the Abrahamic god, would they know god at all? If one was locked in a cage from birth and only knew the hand of their keeper, would they know god?
Some people are really stupid in that they can't think outside the box and come up with a relevant answer. Sure, this person wouldn't know how to communicate, unless the captor taught this person basic language (it's hypothetical, don't ask me how!).
Someone accused me of stealing this idea. I've never read Plato's Republic, though it's on my list of reading.
Anyway.. whatever.. right?
If one was raised in a non-descript room, never knowing anyone from the time of birth until adulthood, never coming into contact with another human, only knowing that something may be out there because that something is the supplier of sustinence and clothing (and education devoid of anything related to religion), would this one know the concept of god? Which god? Would this person think the hand that was supplying everything was the hand of god?
If this person was then introduced to people, how do you think this person would react?
I was thinking about how someone had once said that god (the Christian god, mind you) is known by everyone and that he permeates our being. So, I wonder - if someone was never introduced to any god, let alone the Abrahamic god, would they know god at all? If one was locked in a cage from birth and only knew the hand of their keeper, would they know god?
Some people are really stupid in that they can't think outside the box and come up with a relevant answer. Sure, this person wouldn't know how to communicate, unless the captor taught this person basic language (it's hypothetical, don't ask me how!).
Someone accused me of stealing this idea. I've never read Plato's Republic, though it's on my list of reading.
Anyway.. whatever.. right?
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Each person can make a difference
You can help.
Though I've never used this hotline, I've been in the position where I could have used them. Luckily, I didn't follow through with the plans I had. I still think about it from time to time but I know that, if it comes down to it, I have someone, somewhere, to talk to that will help me overcome the temporary problem that would lead to a permanent solution. Help 1-800-SUICIDE help others.
Though I've never used this hotline, I've been in the position where I could have used them. Luckily, I didn't follow through with the plans I had. I still think about it from time to time but I know that, if it comes down to it, I have someone, somewhere, to talk to that will help me overcome the temporary problem that would lead to a permanent solution. Help 1-800-SUICIDE help others.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Just when you thought it was safe to park...
A funny thing happened to me the other night. Well, it didn't happen to me as much as I was held up by something that happened.
I was at the Arclight in LA on Monday night. I was actually in the parking structure trying to find a parking spot to get to the Arclight when this happened. See, I was following some guy in an old Mercedes who, I just assumed, was also looking for a parking space. As we rounded another corner in this long trip through the building, this guy threw his water bottle out of the window and at a parked car.
How fucking rude, I thought. What a fucking retard. Who would blatantly throw their trash out of their window and at a parked car?? [don't answer that, it's rhetorical] So, my mind is throwing out different adjectives describing the fucktard driving his old Mercedes with, by the way, a license plate holder indicating his status as USC Alumni. I guess even good schools churn out stupid people.
So, I'm filling my head with obscenities about this guy and all of a sudden, he stops his friggin' car and starts yelling at some woman. Is this a domestic despute, I thought? Do these two people know each other? As I listened on to the guy rambling on, I saw the woman produce the very same water bottle previously discarded by this prick.
The guy was obviously pissed off. Did this woman steal his parking spot? Pee in his Cheerios? Turn him down for a date to take a tour of his glorious USC campus? I dunno but when he got out of his car to face this apparent spoiler of his good spirit I was, like, bring it down to a 10, dude!
I watched as this little man, balding and pudgy yet still young, address this woman somewhat face to face. I thought he was going to take her on, do something stupid. She stood her ground and her body language indicated nothing in the way of fear. It was almost as if she were mocking him.
As I sat there, watching this drama unfold, two things came to my mind: should I get out of the car and assist this young lady in her troubles and, dude, get in your fucking car and leave this woman alone.
I didn't get out of the car. And after a few moments of discomfort, wondering what this douchebag was going to do, he ended up getting back into his car. Yet, he was still yelling at this calm and collected, though mocking, woman. After a few moments of his childish ranting, I had enough. I yelled at the twit to move his fucking car. I mean, shit, he had blocked the way for at least 5 minutes trying to demean this rock of a woman. They both looked at me and I them. Then, in disgust, the man put his car into drive and took off. On a side note, should children be allowed to drive Mercedes Benzes? And should USC approach this wanker and ask him for his license plate holder back? Questions that I'll never know the answers to.
As I drove around and, eventually, found a spot to park, I wondered. Should I have gotten out of my car to help this woman? I mean, she didn't seem like she needed help but, still, I just sat there. This guy, though non-threatening in any way (in fact, he looked like a beady little troll now that I think about it), looked as though he was going to assault this woman somehow and I didn't want to get involved. Does this make me a pussy, even though I just didn't want to get involved? Is chivalry dead?
Then it donned on me that maybe this woman wouldn't have wanted help. Would she have chastised me for actually coming to her aid? Would she have been one of those feminist holier-than-thou bitches that thinks she could've taken care of herself in times of trouble (I'm sure she would have kicked this guy's ass if it came down to it. He was a fucking tard)? And if so, would she just have accused me of being a sexist fuck for thinking that she's a lesser person because of her gender? Because, you know, LA, particularly Hollywood, has a lot of these independent, feminist women around and about. And, don't get me wrong, I love feminists. They stand for something important. They're great. Just a little delusional.
I guess it still bothers me, almost a week later, that I didn't do anything for this woman. I could have just gotten out of the car, asked if there was a problem and told the little troll to go about his business; sometimes life isn't fair and we should deal with it in a calm and collected way and then move on. And if the woman was a feminist bitch, I would have just had to deal with it and move on, knowing that some people can never be grateful. There is a third scenario, of course.. I could have gotten out, helped and then gotten her number. Her number, damn it! And therein lies the rub... I could've gotten her number. Damn. Folly strikes again.
Oh, the movie you ask? Hancock. Media screening. Go out and see it. Just as you should go out and see Wanted. Two great summer flicks.
I was at the Arclight in LA on Monday night. I was actually in the parking structure trying to find a parking spot to get to the Arclight when this happened. See, I was following some guy in an old Mercedes who, I just assumed, was also looking for a parking space. As we rounded another corner in this long trip through the building, this guy threw his water bottle out of the window and at a parked car.
How fucking rude, I thought. What a fucking retard. Who would blatantly throw their trash out of their window and at a parked car?? [don't answer that, it's rhetorical] So, my mind is throwing out different adjectives describing the fucktard driving his old Mercedes with, by the way, a license plate holder indicating his status as USC Alumni. I guess even good schools churn out stupid people.
So, I'm filling my head with obscenities about this guy and all of a sudden, he stops his friggin' car and starts yelling at some woman. Is this a domestic despute, I thought? Do these two people know each other? As I listened on to the guy rambling on, I saw the woman produce the very same water bottle previously discarded by this prick.
The guy was obviously pissed off. Did this woman steal his parking spot? Pee in his Cheerios? Turn him down for a date to take a tour of his glorious USC campus? I dunno but when he got out of his car to face this apparent spoiler of his good spirit I was, like, bring it down to a 10, dude!
I watched as this little man, balding and pudgy yet still young, address this woman somewhat face to face. I thought he was going to take her on, do something stupid. She stood her ground and her body language indicated nothing in the way of fear. It was almost as if she were mocking him.
As I sat there, watching this drama unfold, two things came to my mind: should I get out of the car and assist this young lady in her troubles and, dude, get in your fucking car and leave this woman alone.
I didn't get out of the car. And after a few moments of discomfort, wondering what this douchebag was going to do, he ended up getting back into his car. Yet, he was still yelling at this calm and collected, though mocking, woman. After a few moments of his childish ranting, I had enough. I yelled at the twit to move his fucking car. I mean, shit, he had blocked the way for at least 5 minutes trying to demean this rock of a woman. They both looked at me and I them. Then, in disgust, the man put his car into drive and took off. On a side note, should children be allowed to drive Mercedes Benzes? And should USC approach this wanker and ask him for his license plate holder back? Questions that I'll never know the answers to.
As I drove around and, eventually, found a spot to park, I wondered. Should I have gotten out of my car to help this woman? I mean, she didn't seem like she needed help but, still, I just sat there. This guy, though non-threatening in any way (in fact, he looked like a beady little troll now that I think about it), looked as though he was going to assault this woman somehow and I didn't want to get involved. Does this make me a pussy, even though I just didn't want to get involved? Is chivalry dead?
Then it donned on me that maybe this woman wouldn't have wanted help. Would she have chastised me for actually coming to her aid? Would she have been one of those feminist holier-than-thou bitches that thinks she could've taken care of herself in times of trouble (I'm sure she would have kicked this guy's ass if it came down to it. He was a fucking tard)? And if so, would she just have accused me of being a sexist fuck for thinking that she's a lesser person because of her gender? Because, you know, LA, particularly Hollywood, has a lot of these independent, feminist women around and about. And, don't get me wrong, I love feminists. They stand for something important. They're great. Just a little delusional.
I guess it still bothers me, almost a week later, that I didn't do anything for this woman. I could have just gotten out of the car, asked if there was a problem and told the little troll to go about his business; sometimes life isn't fair and we should deal with it in a calm and collected way and then move on. And if the woman was a feminist bitch, I would have just had to deal with it and move on, knowing that some people can never be grateful. There is a third scenario, of course.. I could have gotten out, helped and then gotten her number. Her number, damn it! And therein lies the rub... I could've gotten her number. Damn. Folly strikes again.
Oh, the movie you ask? Hancock. Media screening. Go out and see it. Just as you should go out and see Wanted. Two great summer flicks.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
A little late but better than never..
I know it's a little late but I just wanted to write a little something about George Carlin. He was a brilliant man, a brilliant comedian and he was a brilliant atheist. He had a view on life that I found so interesting and so on the nose. And now he's dead.
So, rest in peace Mr. Carlin. You were a talent and an inspiration.
So, rest in peace Mr. Carlin. You were a talent and an inspiration.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Every moment is a new beginning.
I've never been a goal-oriented guy. I've always been the type to just go with whatever interested me. I took whatever it was where ever it went and enjoyed (or not) the ride. I've come to the realization that this way of living isn't very productive. So, I decided to change that. I started writing down my goals, adhering to some sort of plan and, while stumbling because it isn't natural for me, followed what I've set out to do. So far it's been helpful. I've accomplished some really great things. Mainly personal, but great nonetheless. I've learned a lot about myself in the process. I've learned that I'm a highly ambitious person, with big dreams and lofty goals. I've also learned that I'm terribly lazy and I procrastinate a lot. Things I need to work on constantly.
I've been reading a lot about many subjects and they've helped me to understand who I am as well as understand the world around me. I've learned that I'm a very analytical person. At the same time, I'm a very emotional person. Neither are good or bad. It's just the way things are. Analyzing these things have helped me to focus on what's really important in my life. I don't want to change anything about me because, frankly, I think I'm awesome. That doesn't mean there isn't room to become more awesome. It's like Jello chocolate pudding. There's always room for more Jello pudding.
Anyway.. I spent a lot of time tonight thinking about things. It's what I do well. The moon was a great companion. Illuminating, unique and engaging; things I look for in companions. It helped me to focus on what was important. I thought about the things I want accomplish in life. I had written in earlier entries about my plans for school. I wanted to major in comm and minor in philosophy. As with so many things, my priorities change. I'm ditching communications and making philosophy my focus. Why? Thinking about life is what I do and I do it well. It's something that has always fascinated me. I think about religion, belief systems and the things people do and why. I ask myself the most mundane yet interesting questions. Philosophy is where it's at, man. So that's where I'm going. I have a four year plan (that's how many more years I must endure the painful payments on my car). This is the timeframe in which I plan on achieving many goals that will allow me to accomplish what I need to do, change what I need to change and learn what I need to learn. This is the timeframe in which I need to make myself the person I wish to be as well as gain the value I need to gain.
Value, you ask? This is where the lame stuff comes in (if it hasn't already). There was someone whom I met sometime ago, not too long but it's been a bit. She taught me so much in the short time I knew her. And I continue to think about her often. It helps me to focus on what I need to do because, frankly, she is a major part of why I need to change.
She is the one that got away.
And, I believe it's because of the perceived value I had to her, or lack thereof.
Sometimes, when one meets someone who is uplifting, motivating and a positive influence, that person, too, is probably looking for the same. When that person doesn't find it, their perceived value in the other diminishes. And it breaks the deal. I found someone of tremendous value to me who I don't think found the same value in me. My value wasn't equal or higher in her eyes. And no matter how much I may have disagreed, no matter how much I may have tried, it didn't do anything to sway her opinion. Sure, I still think I hold equal or greater value but it doesn't matter what I think. Especially now. She and I are no longer in contact, which I chose.
Thinking back to those times, I only hurt the perception of me by opening my mouth and saying too much. I said things I thought would work in my favor. Some of them were true, some not... some I thought were true but in retrospect weren't. She is truly a rare breed. Someone who doesn't operate within the norms of society. That can be a good thing. And a bad one.
Anyway, I bring this up now because I need to get it out there. I need to say it so that when I read this over and over again in the coming days, months, years, I'll continually be motivated to change. I never want what happened between her and I to happen again when I meet the next right one (I don't believe in soulmates). I don't want to lose that which I know is perfect for me. She was far from perfect, but she was for me. Fortunately, there are others out there who are perfect for me. And, I believe we attract those who are right for us. It'll happen again one day, though I'm not looking for it. In order to not lose a good thing, I must bring my perceived value up. And that's a goal. Don't get me wrong. I know what my value is, and I think it's pretty god damn high. But just because I think it's high, doesn't mean others do. So, I have to accomplish things that bring the perception of value up. Whether it's a degree, a house in the burbs, a eco-friendly car, or simply a handle on life, it has to be something of value.
Like I said. I'm pretty ambitious. I'm becoming more focused. And the desire is there. Everything is falling into place.
This leads me to my final topic. My goodbye.
You brought me great joy (along with frustration and emotional confusion) in the short period of time I knew you. You helped me change my view of myself and the world around me. You gave me insight I never thought possible. I strive each day to learn and grow. You helped me become a better human being. For that I'll always be grateful. But, as life so often does, it moves on without a care or inhibition. It moves forward whether you want it to or not. And I'm moving forward. I have my memories, good and bad. And though I wish we could still be friends, chances are you've moved on, too.
I wish you well, Judy. I wish you happiness beyond belief, success beyond your dreams and a life filled with greatness. You will have a place in my heart that only a select few will ever have. You are the standard for which others must now meet.
Goodbye.
So.. enough of my rambling. I have reading to do.. I'm buried in 4 books at the moment. And, I have an interview to type up (which I'm procrastinating on).
I've been reading a lot about many subjects and they've helped me to understand who I am as well as understand the world around me. I've learned that I'm a very analytical person. At the same time, I'm a very emotional person. Neither are good or bad. It's just the way things are. Analyzing these things have helped me to focus on what's really important in my life. I don't want to change anything about me because, frankly, I think I'm awesome. That doesn't mean there isn't room to become more awesome. It's like Jello chocolate pudding. There's always room for more Jello pudding.
Anyway.. I spent a lot of time tonight thinking about things. It's what I do well. The moon was a great companion. Illuminating, unique and engaging; things I look for in companions. It helped me to focus on what was important. I thought about the things I want accomplish in life. I had written in earlier entries about my plans for school. I wanted to major in comm and minor in philosophy. As with so many things, my priorities change. I'm ditching communications and making philosophy my focus. Why? Thinking about life is what I do and I do it well. It's something that has always fascinated me. I think about religion, belief systems and the things people do and why. I ask myself the most mundane yet interesting questions. Philosophy is where it's at, man. So that's where I'm going. I have a four year plan (that's how many more years I must endure the painful payments on my car). This is the timeframe in which I plan on achieving many goals that will allow me to accomplish what I need to do, change what I need to change and learn what I need to learn. This is the timeframe in which I need to make myself the person I wish to be as well as gain the value I need to gain.
Value, you ask? This is where the lame stuff comes in (if it hasn't already). There was someone whom I met sometime ago, not too long but it's been a bit. She taught me so much in the short time I knew her. And I continue to think about her often. It helps me to focus on what I need to do because, frankly, she is a major part of why I need to change.
She is the one that got away.
And, I believe it's because of the perceived value I had to her, or lack thereof.
Sometimes, when one meets someone who is uplifting, motivating and a positive influence, that person, too, is probably looking for the same. When that person doesn't find it, their perceived value in the other diminishes. And it breaks the deal. I found someone of tremendous value to me who I don't think found the same value in me. My value wasn't equal or higher in her eyes. And no matter how much I may have disagreed, no matter how much I may have tried, it didn't do anything to sway her opinion. Sure, I still think I hold equal or greater value but it doesn't matter what I think. Especially now. She and I are no longer in contact, which I chose.
Thinking back to those times, I only hurt the perception of me by opening my mouth and saying too much. I said things I thought would work in my favor. Some of them were true, some not... some I thought were true but in retrospect weren't. She is truly a rare breed. Someone who doesn't operate within the norms of society. That can be a good thing. And a bad one.
Anyway, I bring this up now because I need to get it out there. I need to say it so that when I read this over and over again in the coming days, months, years, I'll continually be motivated to change. I never want what happened between her and I to happen again when I meet the next right one (I don't believe in soulmates). I don't want to lose that which I know is perfect for me. She was far from perfect, but she was for me. Fortunately, there are others out there who are perfect for me. And, I believe we attract those who are right for us. It'll happen again one day, though I'm not looking for it. In order to not lose a good thing, I must bring my perceived value up. And that's a goal. Don't get me wrong. I know what my value is, and I think it's pretty god damn high. But just because I think it's high, doesn't mean others do. So, I have to accomplish things that bring the perception of value up. Whether it's a degree, a house in the burbs, a eco-friendly car, or simply a handle on life, it has to be something of value.
Like I said. I'm pretty ambitious. I'm becoming more focused. And the desire is there. Everything is falling into place.
This leads me to my final topic. My goodbye.
You brought me great joy (along with frustration and emotional confusion) in the short period of time I knew you. You helped me change my view of myself and the world around me. You gave me insight I never thought possible. I strive each day to learn and grow. You helped me become a better human being. For that I'll always be grateful. But, as life so often does, it moves on without a care or inhibition. It moves forward whether you want it to or not. And I'm moving forward. I have my memories, good and bad. And though I wish we could still be friends, chances are you've moved on, too.
I wish you well, Judy. I wish you happiness beyond belief, success beyond your dreams and a life filled with greatness. You will have a place in my heart that only a select few will ever have. You are the standard for which others must now meet.
Goodbye.
So.. enough of my rambling. I have reading to do.. I'm buried in 4 books at the moment. And, I have an interview to type up (which I'm procrastinating on).
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