Like the scratch on the roof of your mouth

I like cutting off communication from people that annoy me and baking. Winter break looks good because I will get to sleep in 5 out of 7 days a week, those two days requiring me to get up at 1. I also can catch up on some reading. I am growing my hair out in hopes of eliminating the mullet and steps. I would do some yoga, but I'm afraid I'll break my hip.

Although, what do I know? I'm so volatile, tabloid headlines are jealous.

Don't worry, I didn't get so carried away and make goals for myself or anything. Unless you count my goal to win at my bingo competition this week.

I just had a very enjoyable time with Vanessa Vancour. The only sounds I can hear are the rain and Bob Dylan. My house is completely empty. I'm getting ready to go to the store to buy dinner making supplies. I got paid today. And my dinner will be enjoyed with Jesse McCloskey.

This is so very nice. Just saying.

I have been keeping a terrible, dirty secret.

It probably started a month ago; I can't quite remember. I was probably drunk, actually, I know I was drunk because only a few words were discernible. Everyone was dancing at casa de Stieb and I was having a pretty good time. The beat was catchy, I was nodding my head like "yeah," moving my hips like "yeah." Life was good.
I quickly sobered up and told myself dancing to Miley Cyrus could possibly lead to other dangerous situations like syphilis, cardiovascular disease and death, so that occurrence was not to be repeated.
Then, there I was. Halloween night. Casa de Stieb. Party in the USA comes on again. I'm less drunk this time. I'm singing a little bit. I'm moving a little more. I blame it on the fact that everyone is screaming and drowning out what is, probably, the worst song in the world.
I had to test this hypothesis. I put on Party in the USA at my work in my little sound-proof cubicle. I am listening to the lyrics of Party in the USA. The lyrics alone in this song are some of the worst I've ever heard. I decide that my hypothesis is right: Party in the USA is garbage and I can go along in my life without having to ever listen to it again unless I'm shoving my face with beer and cake in Ashley's bedroom.

..But its infectious "YeaaahHhhhh" is stuck in my head. I can't do anything about it. I find myself in the UNR library, plugging in my earbuds and going to Grooveshark to listen to Party in the USA and then quickly navigating to a Pitchfork review of Handsome Furs or the LOLCats homepage. Fuck, I even opened up a Snuggie order form to fool any passerbys. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just buying a blanket with arms. I'm certainly not listening to Party in the USA on repeat. Fuck, no. I'm totally feeding my cow on Farmville. I'm just stalking your mom on Facebook. I'm just tapping my foot and mouthing words to Roll Out, don't mind me.

This condition got too difficult to hide. I found myself blasting Party in the USA at work again, thinking "When I download it, I can just relabel it as 'Flaming Lips Rarity' or 'Mountain Goats Live at Fillmore' and no one will ever know unless they click it for some reason. Maybe I should relabel it as some made up name or something. Pass it off as an indie comedian. I work at the radio station. I can get fired for this shit. I might as well tell everyone I don't own Kid A."

But, these things happen. It's certainly not the first time I've liked something shameful. I had a crush on Frankie Muniz several years ago. That's far worse.

I guess my consolation is that I do not like any other Miley Cyrus songs, and I don't have that crush on Frankie Muniz anymore. And I kick ass in general.

YEAHhhhhHHH!

At this point, I would totally not be opposed to working Thanksgiving.

EDIT: What up, double time? HeyHey!

Things are a lot better these days. I write this like I've gone through hell and back, but sometimes it feels as such, predominantly due to the fact that I cannot handles stress as well as I'd like to say I do. Things tend to straighten out in the end, and as long as I keep improving myself and circumstances surrounding myself, things will steadily continue to become better. Sometimes, I wish I knew where I was going with my life, but for the time being, I'm content with writing, friends, beneficial observations, enriching experiences and the little things that string my life along. I should live by what I say when I mention that people never realize how good they have it because I am one of those people. It's nice to have constant things to look forward to in a week. I like feeling like this even when my main thrill tonight is doing my radio show and my nutrition lab, probably simultaneously. Perhaps I'll bake too. I haven't spent a Thursday night at home in awhile, but I think it will prove to be beneficial. When are Halloween desserts not beneficial?

I like that after I get home from hanging out with you, I can just sit and eat toast and think "Well, at least that's still solid."


"Now, where are the sixty things that are crumbling?"


Ah, this sweater smells so good. Got that going too. Smell good. Check that off the to do list. It's done.

The reason why I'm sick is because you're sick too.
I spent years thinking this was my own demented creation.

_

Aside from shit being really terrible, shit's been pretty good.
My CH professor just wrote me asking if I wanted to rewrite my CH paper. It's a really sweet offer, but I'm not sure if I should even try. I didn't read the books the paper concerns, hence why I got a bad grade in the first place. I don't know if I can go for bullshit round 2. I didn't win round 1. I could try for the other topic, but I think I'm just going to admit that I lost this one.

I really don't know how I can glass half-full today, but I'm doing it somehow. I'm going to study for CH and Nutrition.

If you're not sick, you're dead. Really, though. Here's to that cough syrup refill and this week being over soon.

When you win, you're going to owe someone. And when you lose, you forget how to collect.

Figures:

If it weren't for A
I, technically, wouldn't have B
And if I eliminated A
C-Z would be too vivid.
C-Z are necessary to see.
Solely A would be too hazy.
And, B. Well. Sometimes I get lucky.
Because A is nice and C-Z are fulfilling.
But, B. That's sight into depths of reality that seems like a dream.

Mechanisms-copy-over.

This skiing aficionado boy I'm dating and the Holiday episode of Degrassi are making winter look really desirable. These are probably the only two things that could make me actually anticipate winter


I'm also looking forward to October...because October means true autumn and Halloween, my all time favorite holiday.

People have already started asking me if I'm throwing a Halloween party. I wish I could assure that I was and start planning now, but I am missing some key details. Like a location. And money.

Here's to a house and money falling into my hands!

I'm currently in my "office" at work, which is little more than storage space. It has a door and I never closed it because I felt like people would assume I was masturbating or more antisocial than my coworkers already think I am. Tonight, I was talking to someone about how their office was a lot warmer than mine and they explained it was because there was a lot of equipment that generated heat in there, and they kept the door shut most of the time. If anyone asks, I shut my door because I'm cold. This does play a part in why I close the door; it is fucking frigid in this building. But, I also have an affinity for closed small, isolated spaces that, for the time being, solely belong to me. I seek the most hidden away area in public places and temporarily burrow away from the world with my thougts, music, writing and reading. If I didn't do this, I couldn't hold sanity for as long as I do.

Perhaps this is the problem with me lately. Ironically, I also enjoy being constantly busy. This is probably because I think too much time burrowed away with myself is more likely to cause insanity and drastic over-analysis of which I experience too much. I have choked every last piece of my free time so I never have to dwell on my flaws or shortcomings and I can be free to think, since I am being productive, I am constantly contributing, and thus, not worthless. I schedule time for scheduling. I eat my breakfast while driving and talking on the phone, scheduling more meetings for things that ultimately leave me apathetic.
The check engine light comes on. I'm out of gas. My hair's too long. I could use a new sweater. Productivity equals progression. I can't afford to pass up progression. How the fuck you gon get anywhere if you ain't got no drive, kid?

I still agree with that sentiment, but, there are always going to be nights where I am left alone with myself--not particularly physically alone--but just in complete outside view of myself, realizing what my true actions and words would be if they weren't constantly stifled. Watching them bleed out of me without anything to stop it. If you've ever "just" realized what your true words and thoughts are, it takes you down from your typical pseudointellectual elitist standpoint and makes you see you still care about everything you hate that people care about. You are superficial, judgmental, not funny and a bad dancer. Well, I sure am. I could make a list of reasons why sitting around with people when everything is "fine" just makes me count the reasons why everything is NOT fine.

Which brings me back to the point that getting to know myself, even in the disgustingly over-analytical, close relationship I have with myself, is essential to improvement. I still stand by my opinion that I am doing better than I've ever been doing, but I feel like if I don't check up on my own mind every once in a while, I will just be too...human.

Since I am human, I seek out social interaction constantly. I like having my friends over. I like drinking when I'm not bleeding out my entire psyche and simultaneously vomiting. I like planning parties. I like making friends and studying new people. It's fun and feels good, just like sex. But, I have never felt better than after truly being with myself, writing or, basically, getting shit done.



Ha, being with myself. My coworkers are right. I close the door to masturbate.
It pretty much boils down to that. Give yourself the pleasure you need and the pleasure you derive from everything else will be spectacular.

Uh. You may be seated. I'll be here all week.

I came home so I could go to sleep.
This is futile, considering I will just spend my time thinking of where I left.

Oh, hi, world. I had forgotten you were here the entire time. Have a seat; I'll let you do most of the talking and I'll just wonder where I happen to fit into your plans. Eventually, I'll slip away again, and, I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me. I've already forgotten what you were saying...

This is the day I got my driver's license.
Where did the time go?

this will be a good investment in the long run. good investment in the long run. investment in the long run. long run.

where are my three checks? I need new shoes.
and food.
and an SLR.
and food.
and food.
and food.

We are really a species of emulation. Sometimes I look at everything I am and realize I am none of it; it all belonged to someone before it belonged to me and it will belong to someone else before I die. It becomes especially apparent when we take mutations in emulation to be flaws instead of perfection. The definition of perfection is based upon others' previous perfecting. It's a depressing format we feel inclined to follow. I feel like a machine programmed to imitate my peers, and when I cannot, I boil down to what I am now: myself. I wonder why being myself is so utterly painstaking. If I were you, I wouldn't have to take the blame for what I am now. We break because our image is projected onto a rejecting canvas and we cannot seem to figure out why considering we became everything we observed. Aren't we just the sneering canvas? My skin's crawling and changing again because I'm not everything I'm observing.

Can't I just be you?


You want to BE me? Why? Why the fuck would you ever want that?

I am going to France in January.
I am going to Spain in the summer.

Big purchases:

Half of France & half of Spain
+
New camera.

I'M SO STOKED! MONEY! MOTIVATION! EDUCATION!

I really appreciate my parents' support.




But, my mom was just scaring me when she said she wouldn't pay my tuition if I moved out...right?


Womb monger.

I just had that phenomenon where I didn't want to put on a song because it would remind me of good times that were over.

This is, like, the 90th time I've said how much I will miss summer. What a fulfilling three months.

I'm just so stoked to have experienced all of this. I'm stoked to be able to have a really fun summer, as well as having matured quite a bit. And, when I say mature, I mean both having grown up and having gotten more cunning. :]
Ah, to be going to Star Trek, dining and dashing and chilling in parking garages again...
And so much more.
No summer recap this year because there are too many things to list.
Also, I could just read my Twitter updates and hope I still remember what "Hella Goodass Time" and "Hella Goodass Time Part Deux" are referring to.



Look at you, Sam. You're growing the fuck up.

:)

I appreciate and admire everyone in my life the more I experience with them. I have no idea how I got so lucky.

Summer, I will miss you.