Hello Everyone,
Well, I will have to say that this blog was off to a fantastic start. I was hitting a stride and writing one a week for about a month. My intention was to discuss what life was like unemployed, trying to kick unhealthy habits and failing at it mercilessly. However, then I got a job and I actually was going to the gym regularly. Therefore, now I can't talk about unemployment or being unhealthy. But, then, I realized that at any moment I could be unemployed again, and with my track record for relapsing into unhealthy habits, I was sure to find something to write about. So here goes nothing.
So far I have been 40% successful at quitting smoking. After stopping for about 3 weeks, I got really bored at home, and decided I needed a friend to keep me company during my boring days. So, MR. SALEM LIGHTS eventually won out. I started back up full force and enjoyed every minute of it. UNTIL, I got this cough, and this cough just wouldn't go away. I particularly loved the fact that I would get this cough in the morning and start puking sometimes. YUMMO! So, I said to myself, in a wonderfully depricating manner, "DAMN IT, RYAN. QUIT FUCKING SMOKING. YOU HATE THE WAY YOU FEEL. SO FUCKING KNOCK IT OFF!" The next day I bought 4 weeks for patches. If any of you all recall one of the many other times I have tried to quit, the patches kinda worked...until I ran out of patches and decided that it was cheaper to buy a pack of smokes than it was to pay another $40 bucks for patches. I had every intention that I would buy the patches with my next pay check....it was too late!
Well, I am on that route again. I decided that since I don't have health insurance, CHANTIX, wasn't the way to go again, but more importantly I didn't want to go crazy again just to stop this little annoyance in my life. I mean, Shit, I would rather have an addiction than be in the psychiatric ward! And, now I am seeing commercials from some ambulance chaser wanting to sue the company, but since I never "attempted suicide or had suicidal thoughts," i can't get in on the settlement...DAMN. So, now I am in my third week of patches. I now smoke only when I drink....pretty much, only when I drink. And sometimes when I think about drinking. And sometimes when I am around my family. And sometimes when someone is smoking a menthol in front of me. BUT, for the most part I am smoking MUCH MUCH less. That said, it is quite amazing how good I am for a couple of weeks, but then the "importance" of stopping smoking just slips out of my mind and I start thinking that it is a really good idea. So, here I am contemplating if I should just give it up completely, or just give into the desire and smoke myself into an asstray smelling worker at Dirt Cheap Ciggs. So, if any of you all pray, get on your knees and help me out damn it! We will see in the next few months how it goes. I am not feeling too optomistic about my chances, but I am forging forward, nonetheless.
So, I guess I have a few more unhealthy habits to kick.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
"Well" said the Personal Trainer, "You are in the Obese Range"
First and foremost, I wish to apologize for my delay in keeping everyone updated on what has been going on. I will get to specifics in a moment, however, let's just say unemployment has been getting to me. To the point of pretty much no motivation to do anything. I NEED STRUCTURE!
Okay, here we go! Approximately 4 weeks ago I joined a gym. I did not want to. I new I needed to. So, I found the gym that was closest to my house and went for a tour. The tour was nice, and by the end of it I just signed right on up for a contract. In fact, not that bad, pretty cheap and has all the machines and weights that I need to get my bod back into desirable form. One of the fantastic perks of signing up was that they give you 1 free personal training and consultation session with one of the personal trainers that they have on staff there. Alright, that sounded good, however I swore I would not let them poke, prod, and pinch my fat to diagnose my body fat percentage. I refuse to let people pinch me to prove that I got a few to lose. I think I might already know that, hence the signing up with the gym in the first place..oh, and yeah, healthy living la de da de da....whatever.
So, I schedule my first meeting with her at 7 a.m. the next morning, which I promptly and purposefully slept through, calling back later telling her "I forgot...sorry." We rescheduled for the next day at a time that I would actually show up. I meet with her, she takes me on a little tour again, sits down and discusses what my goals are for working out and the whole sha-bang.
Then, we get to the "Let's take your body fat" statement, which I assertively told her "hell no, I know I am overweight and need to lose some of the fat." Which she replied with, "Oh, you do, how do you know that? You should really do this because it is a great way to track progress." Being a therapist, I understand that tracking progress significantly increases your likelihood of continuing with any behavior change. So, I said "Maybe. Um, do you have to pinch my fat and make me feel like a fat heifer without the actual young female cow parts?" She responded with a "No, we use this little fat calculating machine that will run some sort of energy wave through your fat and it will spit out your percentage." I agreed.
Now let me tell you that I wasn't necessarily prepared for what came out of her mouth, however I will have to say it was the most effective sales pitch I have ever heard from ANYONE.
"Well, Ryan. You are at XX% and that is in the OBESE Range." Kristi the perfect bodied PT said.
I sat there stunned, my face turning all sorts of red, pink, and rose colors, feeling the intense shame that I always felt growing up when I would look at people who were skinnier and more fit that I. A part of me wanted to reach across the little round table, grab her clipboard and that fat calculating machine and beat her to a pulp, wrap her up in a fat suit, and send her on her way.
I thought to myself, "well, I know that I have a few extra pounds, but I didn't know that I was like on the verge of being housebound to my recliner, mold growing in my folds, and people refusing to visit b/c of the stench of my house, and praying I would just die, but before I die five more Big Mac's please." OMG, WTF. Instead, I said....
"Well, Kristi, sign me up for 10 personal training sessions. When can we start?"
I wholeheartedly went into that session, after being prepped by Sean, to not sign up for anything, buy anything, or spend any money. In that one little sentence, the damn club got me for another $450. While I am unemployed to boot. Afterward, I thought about how she could have used a more Motivational Interviewing approach to deliver that message of my fattyness and obescity and get me to come up with my own personal reasons to finally get back into the gym and get rid of my spare tire and fit back into all my expensive jeans. But, I realized something that day. NO ONE LIKES TO BE CALLED OBESE. And, when all is said and done, that one sentence made up for me having to struggle with my own motivation, because now I was OBESE. I did not want that lable. All I can say is that I am putting that in my back pocket when I can use it on someone else. Someone asks me if they look fat in a pair of pants, I will respond, "No, you look OBESE. Now honey just get your fat ass to the gym and stop asking obvious questions."
Needless to say, I have been the gym 4 times a week, see muscle tone in my legs again, and feel "a little" better about things. I am getting more motivated and now feel guilty if I don't go, but not the kind of guilt that prevents me from doing anything. An actual useful guilt that motivates me to action. FINALLY, I have guilt that is functional. I used to living with lots of it. I was beaten down with Catholicism growing up, and I'm queer. They go hand in hand...Catholics, queer, and guilt.
One problem, though, I started going to the gym, so I thought I should bring out an old friend...Salem Lights are Back! I hope to let her go someday. But, really, she is my only friend that never has told me I am obese, nor asks anything of me. A match made in cancerous heaven.
Okay, here we go! Approximately 4 weeks ago I joined a gym. I did not want to. I new I needed to. So, I found the gym that was closest to my house and went for a tour. The tour was nice, and by the end of it I just signed right on up for a contract. In fact, not that bad, pretty cheap and has all the machines and weights that I need to get my bod back into desirable form. One of the fantastic perks of signing up was that they give you 1 free personal training and consultation session with one of the personal trainers that they have on staff there. Alright, that sounded good, however I swore I would not let them poke, prod, and pinch my fat to diagnose my body fat percentage. I refuse to let people pinch me to prove that I got a few to lose. I think I might already know that, hence the signing up with the gym in the first place..oh, and yeah, healthy living la de da de da....whatever.
So, I schedule my first meeting with her at 7 a.m. the next morning, which I promptly and purposefully slept through, calling back later telling her "I forgot...sorry." We rescheduled for the next day at a time that I would actually show up. I meet with her, she takes me on a little tour again, sits down and discusses what my goals are for working out and the whole sha-bang.
Then, we get to the "Let's take your body fat" statement, which I assertively told her "hell no, I know I am overweight and need to lose some of the fat." Which she replied with, "Oh, you do, how do you know that? You should really do this because it is a great way to track progress." Being a therapist, I understand that tracking progress significantly increases your likelihood of continuing with any behavior change. So, I said "Maybe. Um, do you have to pinch my fat and make me feel like a fat heifer without the actual young female cow parts?" She responded with a "No, we use this little fat calculating machine that will run some sort of energy wave through your fat and it will spit out your percentage." I agreed.
Now let me tell you that I wasn't necessarily prepared for what came out of her mouth, however I will have to say it was the most effective sales pitch I have ever heard from ANYONE.
"Well, Ryan. You are at XX% and that is in the OBESE Range." Kristi the perfect bodied PT said.
I sat there stunned, my face turning all sorts of red, pink, and rose colors, feeling the intense shame that I always felt growing up when I would look at people who were skinnier and more fit that I. A part of me wanted to reach across the little round table, grab her clipboard and that fat calculating machine and beat her to a pulp, wrap her up in a fat suit, and send her on her way.
I thought to myself, "well, I know that I have a few extra pounds, but I didn't know that I was like on the verge of being housebound to my recliner, mold growing in my folds, and people refusing to visit b/c of the stench of my house, and praying I would just die, but before I die five more Big Mac's please." OMG, WTF. Instead, I said....
"Well, Kristi, sign me up for 10 personal training sessions. When can we start?"
I wholeheartedly went into that session, after being prepped by Sean, to not sign up for anything, buy anything, or spend any money. In that one little sentence, the damn club got me for another $450. While I am unemployed to boot. Afterward, I thought about how she could have used a more Motivational Interviewing approach to deliver that message of my fattyness and obescity and get me to come up with my own personal reasons to finally get back into the gym and get rid of my spare tire and fit back into all my expensive jeans. But, I realized something that day. NO ONE LIKES TO BE CALLED OBESE. And, when all is said and done, that one sentence made up for me having to struggle with my own motivation, because now I was OBESE. I did not want that lable. All I can say is that I am putting that in my back pocket when I can use it on someone else. Someone asks me if they look fat in a pair of pants, I will respond, "No, you look OBESE. Now honey just get your fat ass to the gym and stop asking obvious questions."
Needless to say, I have been the gym 4 times a week, see muscle tone in my legs again, and feel "a little" better about things. I am getting more motivated and now feel guilty if I don't go, but not the kind of guilt that prevents me from doing anything. An actual useful guilt that motivates me to action. FINALLY, I have guilt that is functional. I used to living with lots of it. I was beaten down with Catholicism growing up, and I'm queer. They go hand in hand...Catholics, queer, and guilt.
One problem, though, I started going to the gym, so I thought I should bring out an old friend...Salem Lights are Back! I hope to let her go someday. But, really, she is my only friend that never has told me I am obese, nor asks anything of me. A match made in cancerous heaven.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Did I forget to Mention I "Quit" Smoking?
I "quit" smoking when I went to Seattle. By "quitting," I mean that I no longer buy any "fags" from a store, gas station, or any other form where money is exchanged for a pack of cancer sticks. However, "quitting" means that I just bum off of others and start my day out thinking about who I can hang out with today that "smokes?" Every time I drive down the street, my first thought is to hurry up and run to the gas station and buy a pack, fiercely suck down as many as I can in a five minute span and throw the rest to a homeless man/woman/infant on the corner begging for money. However, I haven't...yet. At times, when I am walking to dog, running, or driving in my car and I see a homeless person smoking, I actually think about bumming off of them. Is that sick?
That is all I have to contribute about this topic. Now that I am talking about it, I "need" a cigarette . When does that stop?
P.S., I started to quit by taking Chantix. Wasn't so bad at first and the taste of cigs were really bad, I didn't even really want one, and I didn't have any withdrawal. HOWEVER, I started to have very intense dreams, periods of sleep that were actually not sleep but awake but in an "altered" state, feelings that I was going insane, culminating in increasingly disturbing, depressed, morbid, and even downright crazy dreamws. I googled Chantix, and it seems others are experiencing this same phenomenon. By the last night I felt like I couldn't go to sleep b/c some crazy dreams would happen and I wouldn't be able to wake up from them(of course this is all happening when I wasn't quite asleep yet, but not awake...and my mind took on a mind of its own). That said. It did get me over the first hump. I'll never try that again!
Maybe that should be a lesson to me so that I don't start smoking again, and by smoking I mean buying my own cigs, not bumming off of homeless teens, nor smoking regularly everyday.
Another postcard from home is in the mail!
That is all I have to contribute about this topic. Now that I am talking about it, I "need" a cigarette . When does that stop?
P.S., I started to quit by taking Chantix. Wasn't so bad at first and the taste of cigs were really bad, I didn't even really want one, and I didn't have any withdrawal. HOWEVER, I started to have very intense dreams, periods of sleep that were actually not sleep but awake but in an "altered" state, feelings that I was going insane, culminating in increasingly disturbing, depressed, morbid, and even downright crazy dreamws. I googled Chantix, and it seems others are experiencing this same phenomenon. By the last night I felt like I couldn't go to sleep b/c some crazy dreams would happen and I wouldn't be able to wake up from them(of course this is all happening when I wasn't quite asleep yet, but not awake...and my mind took on a mind of its own). That said. It did get me over the first hump. I'll never try that again!
Maybe that should be a lesson to me so that I don't start smoking again, and by smoking I mean buying my own cigs, not bumming off of homeless teens, nor smoking regularly everyday.
Another postcard from home is in the mail!
Friday, August 8, 2008
Seeking Tennis Buddy
Attractive, fit WM, 34, seeking another male, 25 - 45, to play tennis. I haven't played in quite some time, and would like to get back up to speed. Evenings and weekends are best.
Today is Friday August 8, 2008: The official Opening of the Olympics in Beijing, China.
Yesterday, though, I continued my daily routine of calling people to take me out to lunch. Yesterday was my Mom's turn. We had lunch with my uncle Mike and then we went our separate ways.
When I arrived home, I thought I should do something other than watch t.v., therefore I decided I would check my email. My cousin Kathryn was on gmail, and well, basically, I am not sure if she even works at her job b/c we spent an entire 2 hours chatting online, looking up odd things on Craig's List and sending them to each other. Which brings me to what I want to write about today. Let me tell you how much I LOVE, and I mean LOVE, Craig's List. My personal favorites are the PERSONALS!!!! Check them out, really, they will make your day...however be aware that they are addicting as hell.
After sifting through the personals and reading what a man wants in a woman, what a girl wants in a man, what a woman wants in a girl, and what a man wants in a boy, I was amazed by how different the postings are. Frankly, Gay men are just straight to the point: "GWM (gay white male) seeking submissive bottom for some light scat, no poop please. Some toys Okay. Here is a pic of my cock, my stats are buff and attractive, you be same...no bullshit" I love it.
The men seeking women: "WM seeks attractive and intellectual young woman to share intimate evenings drinking wine, discussing essays, and lounging on weekends."
Women seeking men sounds like this: "bored mom looking for the man of her dreams. Is that you? call me."
Finally, the women seeking women goes a little like this: "lesbian woman seeks other lesbian or bi woman to go hiking, swimming, boating, dog showing, and making means from my garden. Also, if you have a UHAUL, that works out great b/c you will be moving in with me in a month and I will put you on my mortgage."
No, actually, that last line isn't really what is said, but it is just simply implied and understood. But, lets be frank. At least with these gay men they just cut to the chase, layout exactly what they want, there is no reading between the lines, and you know exactly what you are signing up for so that there are no "surprises." There is no: "Oh, you just put your hand on my cock! I wasn't interested in this, I just wanted to drink wine and discuss Madonna's new album ." The rest of them are just plain bullshitting. All of them want sex and maybe some talking before and after. Are people really looking for love on Craig's list personal adds? Come on!If you really wanted love then you would fill out a survey for Harmony.com (gays need not apply) and get yourself matched up with someone you'll find out is a serial killer. That said, I have digressed. This blog is actually not about those adds, what I want to talk about is the "Strictly Platonic" adds.
Attractive, fit WM, 34, seeking another male, 25 - 45, to play tennis. I haven't played in quite some time, and would like to get back up to speed. Evenings and weekends are best.
So, I went into "strictly platonic" to see if anyone had posted any entries about wanting to play tennis. I am desperately trying to play some tennis. However, since I am unemployed, I can't really afford to "pay" to play tennis, so I thought since it is a nice 110 degrees out, I would just see if I could find a community that plays at a high level and on free courts. I wasn't "really" thinking that I would find people to play with, however the titles to the adds were intriguing me. Hhere are a few adds: "Looking for weight watchers partner/workout partner - w4w - 35 (Belleville, Il);" "Looking For Christian Business Relationships!**** - m4w - 33 (St. Charles);" "need help dressing - m4w - 46 (st louis county)"...you get the point. Interesting platonic relationships, the last being a crossdresser seeking a female to help with schooling on what to wear, how to put on make-up, and how to do one's hair (if you have a wig or have never learned to french braid) in order to improve their "blending" in (when i found this one I thought about answering, surely as an unemployed gay man I could help a girl out:). Anyway, nothing really more than platonic.
Then I found the add "Seeking Tennis Buddy." I thought, "Here. Someone to play tennis with and be my buddy at the same time. This is perfect. Exercise AND a my buddy doll." So, I go ahead and click on the link, and the add reads :
Attractive, fit WM, 34, seeking another male, 25 - 45, to play tennis. I haven't played in quite some time, and would like to get back up to speed. Evenings and weekends are best.
Okay, this seems like a possibility. Not too old, not too young, schedule works well with me since I have none. However, he hasn't played in a while and I don't want to play with people who can't hit the ball. So, 2 points age and schedule, 1 point off for not playing much. Then, I looked at the add again: "Attractive, fit, WM, 34, seeking another male, 25-45." I think to myself, "okay, why does it matter if you are attractive and why does it matter how old I am?" I started thinking that maybe this tennis "buddy" was code for tennis "fuck buddy." I know that it is very important for the person I am trying to beat in a game of tennis to be HOT, for eye candy purposes only, but I am not sure if that really matters at all since the goal is to find a tennis "buddy." Then, I thought, maybe this isn't "strictly platonic" and those damn mischievous queers have cornered the market in both the explicit "personals m4m" and are now spilling over into the "strictly platonic" portion of Craig's List. Its like, "well, maybe I don't want to be SO forward like all the other 'personal adds'." (if you see one that isn't precise, it feels out of place...like, maybe he should have just stuck with yahoo singles or something). So, they are now posting in the "strictly platonic" b/c maybe they want more of a challenge, or are too shy to give the size of their penis, or maybe this is what gays consider "platonic." I don't know. I have been "out" of the "community" for so long living my TINC (two income, no children) life, but I know subtle innuendos when I see them.
So here is my dilemma: I feel a personal responsibility to keep "strictly platonic" "really strictly platonic." I sit here wondering if I should go down all adds that "imply" something other than "platonic" and flag them and have them moved to the personals section? Yet, at the same time, I am concerned that all of this may just be in my head and I am "reading" too much into these b/c I obviously have way too much time on my hands. And, on the other hand, maybe I just don't understand what the word "platonic" means. Maybe casual sex is "platonic" to some people and I am being insensitive to this cultural movement towards "platonic" meaning you can fuck your neighbor, best-friend's boyfriend, mailman, or anyone else as long as there is no "feelings," more specifically "romantic attachment and loving emotions" passed along to the other person. Or, maybe "platonic" really does mean exactly that, "nothing more than friends, which by that I mean, no random romps with others." I think I will go with the latter.
Wow, I am glad I got that cleared up. The next postcard from home is in the mail!
Today is Friday August 8, 2008: The official Opening of the Olympics in Beijing, China.
Yesterday, though, I continued my daily routine of calling people to take me out to lunch. Yesterday was my Mom's turn. We had lunch with my uncle Mike and then we went our separate ways.
When I arrived home, I thought I should do something other than watch t.v., therefore I decided I would check my email. My cousin Kathryn was on gmail, and well, basically, I am not sure if she even works at her job b/c we spent an entire 2 hours chatting online, looking up odd things on Craig's List and sending them to each other. Which brings me to what I want to write about today. Let me tell you how much I LOVE, and I mean LOVE, Craig's List. My personal favorites are the PERSONALS!!!! Check them out, really, they will make your day...however be aware that they are addicting as hell.
After sifting through the personals and reading what a man wants in a woman, what a girl wants in a man, what a woman wants in a girl, and what a man wants in a boy, I was amazed by how different the postings are. Frankly, Gay men are just straight to the point: "GWM (gay white male) seeking submissive bottom for some light scat, no poop please. Some toys Okay. Here is a pic of my cock, my stats are buff and attractive, you be same...no bullshit" I love it.
The men seeking women: "WM seeks attractive and intellectual young woman to share intimate evenings drinking wine, discussing essays, and lounging on weekends."
Women seeking men sounds like this: "bored mom looking for the man of her dreams. Is that you? call me."
Finally, the women seeking women goes a little like this: "lesbian woman seeks other lesbian or bi woman to go hiking, swimming, boating, dog showing, and making means from my garden. Also, if you have a UHAUL, that works out great b/c you will be moving in with me in a month and I will put you on my mortgage."
No, actually, that last line isn't really what is said, but it is just simply implied and understood. But, lets be frank. At least with these gay men they just cut to the chase, layout exactly what they want, there is no reading between the lines, and you know exactly what you are signing up for so that there are no "surprises." There is no: "Oh, you just put your hand on my cock! I wasn't interested in this, I just wanted to drink wine and discuss Madonna's new album ." The rest of them are just plain bullshitting. All of them want sex and maybe some talking before and after. Are people really looking for love on Craig's list personal adds? Come on!If you really wanted love then you would fill out a survey for Harmony.com (gays need not apply) and get yourself matched up with someone you'll find out is a serial killer. That said, I have digressed. This blog is actually not about those adds, what I want to talk about is the "Strictly Platonic" adds.
Attractive, fit WM, 34, seeking another male, 25 - 45, to play tennis. I haven't played in quite some time, and would like to get back up to speed. Evenings and weekends are best.
So, I went into "strictly platonic" to see if anyone had posted any entries about wanting to play tennis. I am desperately trying to play some tennis. However, since I am unemployed, I can't really afford to "pay" to play tennis, so I thought since it is a nice 110 degrees out, I would just see if I could find a community that plays at a high level and on free courts. I wasn't "really" thinking that I would find people to play with, however the titles to the adds were intriguing me. Hhere are a few adds: "Looking for weight watchers partner/workout partner - w4w - 35 (Belleville, Il);" "Looking For Christian Business Relationships!**** - m4w - 33 (St. Charles);" "need help dressing - m4w - 46 (st louis county)"...you get the point. Interesting platonic relationships, the last being a crossdresser seeking a female to help with schooling on what to wear, how to put on make-up, and how to do one's hair (if you have a wig or have never learned to french braid) in order to improve their "blending" in (when i found this one I thought about answering, surely as an unemployed gay man I could help a girl out:). Anyway, nothing really more than platonic.
Then I found the add "Seeking Tennis Buddy." I thought, "Here. Someone to play tennis with and be my buddy at the same time. This is perfect. Exercise AND a my buddy doll." So, I go ahead and click on the link, and the add reads :
Attractive, fit WM, 34, seeking another male, 25 - 45, to play tennis. I haven't played in quite some time, and would like to get back up to speed. Evenings and weekends are best.
Okay, this seems like a possibility. Not too old, not too young, schedule works well with me since I have none. However, he hasn't played in a while and I don't want to play with people who can't hit the ball. So, 2 points age and schedule, 1 point off for not playing much. Then, I looked at the add again: "Attractive, fit, WM, 34, seeking another male, 25-45." I think to myself, "okay, why does it matter if you are attractive and why does it matter how old I am?" I started thinking that maybe this tennis "buddy" was code for tennis "fuck buddy." I know that it is very important for the person I am trying to beat in a game of tennis to be HOT, for eye candy purposes only, but I am not sure if that really matters at all since the goal is to find a tennis "buddy." Then, I thought, maybe this isn't "strictly platonic" and those damn mischievous queers have cornered the market in both the explicit "personals m4m" and are now spilling over into the "strictly platonic" portion of Craig's List. Its like, "well, maybe I don't want to be SO forward like all the other 'personal adds'." (if you see one that isn't precise, it feels out of place...like, maybe he should have just stuck with yahoo singles or something). So, they are now posting in the "strictly platonic" b/c maybe they want more of a challenge, or are too shy to give the size of their penis, or maybe this is what gays consider "platonic." I don't know. I have been "out" of the "community" for so long living my TINC (two income, no children) life, but I know subtle innuendos when I see them.
So here is my dilemma: I feel a personal responsibility to keep "strictly platonic" "really strictly platonic." I sit here wondering if I should go down all adds that "imply" something other than "platonic" and flag them and have them moved to the personals section? Yet, at the same time, I am concerned that all of this may just be in my head and I am "reading" too much into these b/c I obviously have way too much time on my hands. And, on the other hand, maybe I just don't understand what the word "platonic" means. Maybe casual sex is "platonic" to some people and I am being insensitive to this cultural movement towards "platonic" meaning you can fuck your neighbor, best-friend's boyfriend, mailman, or anyone else as long as there is no "feelings," more specifically "romantic attachment and loving emotions" passed along to the other person. Or, maybe "platonic" really does mean exactly that, "nothing more than friends, which by that I mean, no random romps with others." I think I will go with the latter.
Wow, I am glad I got that cleared up. The next postcard from home is in the mail!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The Most Productive Thing I did Today was Trim My Pubes!
Hello everyone, and welcome to my blog!
Today is my first entry into my newly established blog. I have never blogged before, however by virtue of establishing a blog, I feel important, as if...I am actually a writer and have some voice in the world. I know that I am not, however from this day forward, I choose to continue to live this lie and plunge forward into blogging.
Today is day three of unemployment. Officially, I have been unemployed for 41 days, however I have chosen to view the past 41 days as vacation, owed to me for working so hard for the past 10 years since I graduated high school, 7 years since I graduated undergrad, and 5 years since I graduate from graduate school. I chose to begin my official unemployment start date following: a move from Ann Arbor, MI to St. Louis, MO, a week of endless family events and glee-struck family members honoring our "return" to St. Louis, and finally a week long vacation to Seattle to get away from all the moving stress. Since my partner, Sean, started his first week of school on Monday August 4th, 2008, I felt that would be a good day to call myself "unemployed."
Day one wasn't so bad. I got up at 6:30 a.m. and brought Sean to his first day of graduate school. On our drive to school, I lectured him and said to play nice with the other kids, sandboxes are for sharing, and make sure that he didn't call anyone names nor hit, kick, punch and especially bite any of his fellow students. I told him "graduate school is tough, and MBA kids are even tougher." Which is actually not what was really said, but on a voice mail I left him later in the day when I was driving home from lunch with a friend. What was actually said was a re-enactment of "Stranger's With Candy" starring Amy Sedaris talking about "what if they don't like me." We laughed. I dropped him off and set out on my productive day.
I was determined to make my first day of unemployment productive, so I drove around for about three hours following a three hour nap in the morning. I finally got my pin number at the bank...speaking of banks. Why does the bank I go to have to have a line out the door EVERY time I go there and no parking ta' boot? Following the bank, I got a library card, and then headed to the post office...another line to wait in. Why does the city have lines every place I go? Don't people have shit to do during the day? I mean, I am unemployed, but what the hell are these people doing? By that time, I had managed to be out of the house for three hours and I decided that this was productive enough for one day and went home awaiting Sean to call me to pick him up so I could talk to someone.
Day two wasn't so bad. I had a follow-up interview for a job I am not so interested in taking. However, for someone who needs a job and in this market, people keep treating me like I am nuts for not taking a job that I don't particularly care for and would mean a lot of work and probably not a lot of money. "Its a job. Just take it and keep looking" says everyone. Well, I appreciate everyone supporting me in this unemployment, however I think I know my limits more than the average "Joe," escpecially when it means that I have to work to help people not kill themselves and then after that is over, I can use the rest of my free time looking for a job. Doesn't sound too enticing! I will just stick it out. I'll get to how unemployment effects the psyche and ego. Not a pretty thing it does.
Today was day three. Today was worse than day two and especially worse than day one, and in fact, is the worst day yet. Being unemployed, I wanted to use the time wisely, productively, and educationally. Therefore, I keep insisting on getting up early in the morning, taking Sean to school, and doing something productive. Yesterday, I met with Sarah, my very good friend whom I have not seen in a while. We met at a coffee shop b/c we are both on a little "break" from reality, so we met up to start our blogs...we got as far as naming our blogs and registering our site...good enough for one days work( as I dust off my hands from all the hard work!) So, today, I was determined to be productive again. I dropped Sean off at a park so he could play grab ass and red-rover with his MBA constituents....you pay $80,000 for a degree and they make you play in a park with other students...I'd rather be in preschool. (By the way, playing in the park, holding hands with your MBA neighbor was nothing compared to the shit you have to do with your classes in SOCIAL WORK SCHOOL!).
I went home and decided that I would shower and get out of the house and go to the coffee shop to look for jobs on the internet and write this blog. However, since Sean had thrown away the nice hair trimmer, it had been a while since I had "manscaped" and was badly in need of a trimming. Well, I said to myself that today was a "great day" to trim my pubes. Following a quick trimming, a shower, and a shave, I was off to make this day productive. I got in my car, started driving to the coffee shop I went to yesterday, however on the way there I decided that I "should" have walked. Since I felt it was ridiculous to have driven the less than mile walk to the coffee shop, I decided that "that coffee shop isn't cool enough for my writing, and I should head down the street, which was definately not in walking distance, to check out a different one." When I got close to the next coffee shop, I decided that I should eat something before I exert all that energy job searching and blogging. I drove around looking for a place to eat. Then, I decided that since I had to pick up Sean in 3 hours, I should just head over near him, hit up a coffee shop there, and get some coffee. 20 minutes later, I park, put in $1 in the parking meter yielding me 2 hours of hard-working and uninterrupted time for productivity. However, before I had turned off the car, I was listening to this great piece on NPR about stalkers. So, I got myself inside the coffee shop, in line, and decided it smelled "too" much like food and I needed a better coffee shop if I were going to be productive today, besides I wanted to finish listening to that "stalker" bit on the radio. I sat in my car, listened to Diane Ream talk to these women who have been stalked and then I decided I would just go home to work. I was leaving Clayton, when I decided that I should call Sean's sister Tricia to go to lunch, since she worked very close. I left a message, and when I was about to get home, Tricia called and wanted to go to lunch in 20 minutes, which is exactly how long it would take to go to meet her. I then turned around, headed over and met up with Tricia for lunch. I decided I would have a really healthy lunch, so I ordered a salad and a glass of Chardonnay (or 2). Yummo! Following lunch, I got in my car and decided that I would head over and at least look in Crate and Barrel even though I knew that I couldn't buy anything. With the huge sign which was barely visible due to the hazeyness caused by 80% degree humidity and pollution in the distance, close to being a "destination." Sean called for me to head over to pick him up. No Crate and Barrel. No blogging. No job searching. But hey, the most productive thing I did today was trim my pubes.
Today is my first entry into my newly established blog. I have never blogged before, however by virtue of establishing a blog, I feel important, as if...I am actually a writer and have some voice in the world. I know that I am not, however from this day forward, I choose to continue to live this lie and plunge forward into blogging.
Today is day three of unemployment. Officially, I have been unemployed for 41 days, however I have chosen to view the past 41 days as vacation, owed to me for working so hard for the past 10 years since I graduated high school, 7 years since I graduated undergrad, and 5 years since I graduate from graduate school. I chose to begin my official unemployment start date following: a move from Ann Arbor, MI to St. Louis, MO, a week of endless family events and glee-struck family members honoring our "return" to St. Louis, and finally a week long vacation to Seattle to get away from all the moving stress. Since my partner, Sean, started his first week of school on Monday August 4th, 2008, I felt that would be a good day to call myself "unemployed."
Day one wasn't so bad. I got up at 6:30 a.m. and brought Sean to his first day of graduate school. On our drive to school, I lectured him and said to play nice with the other kids, sandboxes are for sharing, and make sure that he didn't call anyone names nor hit, kick, punch and especially bite any of his fellow students. I told him "graduate school is tough, and MBA kids are even tougher." Which is actually not what was really said, but on a voice mail I left him later in the day when I was driving home from lunch with a friend. What was actually said was a re-enactment of "Stranger's With Candy" starring Amy Sedaris talking about "what if they don't like me." We laughed. I dropped him off and set out on my productive day.
I was determined to make my first day of unemployment productive, so I drove around for about three hours following a three hour nap in the morning. I finally got my pin number at the bank...speaking of banks. Why does the bank I go to have to have a line out the door EVERY time I go there and no parking ta' boot? Following the bank, I got a library card, and then headed to the post office...another line to wait in. Why does the city have lines every place I go? Don't people have shit to do during the day? I mean, I am unemployed, but what the hell are these people doing? By that time, I had managed to be out of the house for three hours and I decided that this was productive enough for one day and went home awaiting Sean to call me to pick him up so I could talk to someone.
Day two wasn't so bad. I had a follow-up interview for a job I am not so interested in taking. However, for someone who needs a job and in this market, people keep treating me like I am nuts for not taking a job that I don't particularly care for and would mean a lot of work and probably not a lot of money. "Its a job. Just take it and keep looking" says everyone. Well, I appreciate everyone supporting me in this unemployment, however I think I know my limits more than the average "Joe," escpecially when it means that I have to work to help people not kill themselves and then after that is over, I can use the rest of my free time looking for a job. Doesn't sound too enticing! I will just stick it out. I'll get to how unemployment effects the psyche and ego. Not a pretty thing it does.
Today was day three. Today was worse than day two and especially worse than day one, and in fact, is the worst day yet. Being unemployed, I wanted to use the time wisely, productively, and educationally. Therefore, I keep insisting on getting up early in the morning, taking Sean to school, and doing something productive. Yesterday, I met with Sarah, my very good friend whom I have not seen in a while. We met at a coffee shop b/c we are both on a little "break" from reality, so we met up to start our blogs...we got as far as naming our blogs and registering our site...good enough for one days work( as I dust off my hands from all the hard work!) So, today, I was determined to be productive again. I dropped Sean off at a park so he could play grab ass and red-rover with his MBA constituents....you pay $80,000 for a degree and they make you play in a park with other students...I'd rather be in preschool. (By the way, playing in the park, holding hands with your MBA neighbor was nothing compared to the shit you have to do with your classes in SOCIAL WORK SCHOOL!).
I went home and decided that I would shower and get out of the house and go to the coffee shop to look for jobs on the internet and write this blog. However, since Sean had thrown away the nice hair trimmer, it had been a while since I had "manscaped" and was badly in need of a trimming. Well, I said to myself that today was a "great day" to trim my pubes. Following a quick trimming, a shower, and a shave, I was off to make this day productive. I got in my car, started driving to the coffee shop I went to yesterday, however on the way there I decided that I "should" have walked. Since I felt it was ridiculous to have driven the less than mile walk to the coffee shop, I decided that "that coffee shop isn't cool enough for my writing, and I should head down the street, which was definately not in walking distance, to check out a different one." When I got close to the next coffee shop, I decided that I should eat something before I exert all that energy job searching and blogging. I drove around looking for a place to eat. Then, I decided that since I had to pick up Sean in 3 hours, I should just head over near him, hit up a coffee shop there, and get some coffee. 20 minutes later, I park, put in $1 in the parking meter yielding me 2 hours of hard-working and uninterrupted time for productivity. However, before I had turned off the car, I was listening to this great piece on NPR about stalkers. So, I got myself inside the coffee shop, in line, and decided it smelled "too" much like food and I needed a better coffee shop if I were going to be productive today, besides I wanted to finish listening to that "stalker" bit on the radio. I sat in my car, listened to Diane Ream talk to these women who have been stalked and then I decided I would just go home to work. I was leaving Clayton, when I decided that I should call Sean's sister Tricia to go to lunch, since she worked very close. I left a message, and when I was about to get home, Tricia called and wanted to go to lunch in 20 minutes, which is exactly how long it would take to go to meet her. I then turned around, headed over and met up with Tricia for lunch. I decided I would have a really healthy lunch, so I ordered a salad and a glass of Chardonnay (or 2). Yummo! Following lunch, I got in my car and decided that I would head over and at least look in Crate and Barrel even though I knew that I couldn't buy anything. With the huge sign which was barely visible due to the hazeyness caused by 80% degree humidity and pollution in the distance, close to being a "destination." Sean called for me to head over to pick him up. No Crate and Barrel. No blogging. No job searching. But hey, the most productive thing I did today was trim my pubes.
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