April 2005 Archives

The thing I love about talking to people is the initial question, "So, what's been going on?" Everyone asks that or some variation thereof and it usually provokes the same reponse in everyone. "Oh, not much." Then they proceed to tell you the minutia of their previous day's laundromat experience.

It's funny how much people take for granted. The small pieces of you that are affected by the small pieces of the world around you. We simply blow it off. "Nothing's happened" or "Not a whole lot going on, really." I'm not sure why we do it, but we do. We downplay our experiences and give them far less credit than they deserve.

I love noticing these little bits, these tiny pieces of info. I think they give us a lot of insight into the people in our daily lives. It helps to show what your best friend thinks is important and what is banal. For example, my roommate's went to a house party a couple weeks back. When I asked them what happened, they told me a couple anecdotes. Jason drank a lot of beer and managed to not vomit (Jason's tolerance, it would seem, is not what it used to be). Stephanie was approached by a skinny white dude who said, "Your soul sistah number one!!!" and talked to a really nice girl all night.

Now, they were at this party for Lord knows how long. If they're not lame (and I suspect they are not), it was probably upwards of four hours. Yet, in that time span, all they experienced and later related to me were these tiny pieces. Granted, Steph's all-night-long discussion with her new friend and Jason's beer drinking took place over several hours, they're still only tiny bits. The "soul sistah" comment took maybe 10 seconds, at the outside.

What can you infer from that? Plenty. I'm not going to go into it, but I think it ridiculously interesting that these are the things they chose to tell me and what these anecdotes told me about them. And while this all went down a couple weeks ago, I remember it now because of my upcoming weekend.

It proves to be a very busy one with one party tonight and another tomorrow. What will I choose to tell people? What stories will I relate and what will I keep for myself? What will I say on Monday when someone asks, "How was your weekend?" Funny how you don't even think of these things most of the time or maybe it's funny that I do.

The title pretty much says it all. You get what you expect this late at night.

I am not static.
I am evolution.
I am tired and waiting.

I don't know why, yet, but today is a great day. I have a feeling. I do not know what it is, but it bodes well. Jason has been in an interview upstairs for something like 3 hours now. That's a good sign.

But I think it has something to do with me. I feel good about something though I don't know what yet. Hopefully, I'll find out soon.

I think there are times in a person's life when they reflect on what they have become and what they have accomplished. I do not believe it is always a conscious act, but I do believe that it happens to most. It is part autobiography and part inventory. A way of saying to yourself, "This is what I have done and this is what I have failed to do." Some of us come up short, others come out on top. Most break even. It is this evaluation that gives us insight on who are are, personally, and how we work. It is an exercise in self-exploration.

What I hope to do in the coming days (be it weeks, months, years or decades) is to do just that: to explore myself by writing on various topics. Be it an explanation of what I find funny and why I find it funny to an exploration of my depression and how it affects me. My reasons for doing this are many, but two stand out. First, I believe it will be an excellent exercise in writing through which I hope to hone my skills and become both a better author and a better storyteller. Second, I think it is an important thing to do. It is not so much an autobiography as it is an encylopedic entry of myself, for myself.

I hope it is something that those of you who come here will enjoy reading because I know it is something I will enjoy writing. I make no promises as to what I will write about nor the length of the entry. I do promise, however, to make it real. And I hope that counts for something. So, tonight, I will end with a simple vignette on observation and understanding another's point of view.

Today I helped my good friend Josh move some things. His wife's grandather had passed away and today was the chosen day to clear things from his estate. Along with the help of his brother-in-law, Quinn, we moved several large cabinets, bookshelves, and a plethora of functionally useless, but sentimentally priceless, knick-knacks. It was hard work and I know I will pay dearly for it in the morning, but it was a day spent with good company and I truly cannot ask for anything more than that.

Upon arriving back at his house, Joshua, Quinn, and I began unloading the furniture. Julie, Josh's wife, arrived a bit later with their eldest, Eli. Eli is recently 4 and wants to be involved in everything his parents do. It is abundantly clear to even the most casual outside observer that Eli loves his parents with all his heart. Once he saw the three of us working, walking up and down the retractable ramp at the back of the truck, he wanted to help.

All he really wanted was to be a part of the group. To help out his dad and walk up and down the ramp at the back of a moving truck. I remember being 4 and thinking that such a ramp was the most exciting thing in the world. It was a new, foreign tool in transportation. Like stairs, but easier. I also remembered wanting to help and actually feeling like I contributed something. Here I was, standing and waiting to move the next big, heavy thing off the back of the truck and here was Eli, ready to do anything he could to be involved. So I did the only thing I could think of: I put myself in his shoes and imagined what I would want someone to say to me.

"Hey Eli! Wanna help me carry these drawers inside?"

His face lit up and he happily, although awkwardly, tried to pick up and carry what must have been, to him, an enormous drawer. I helped him carry it inside and he helped me slide the drawers back into place. He was ecstatic (though he hid it fairly well, wanting only to get the next set of drawers to slide back into place) and I knew I'd made his day for the 15 minutes he helped us work. As if there were any doubt, he confirmed it for me as we carried the last drawer into Josh and Julie's room.

"I love you, Uncle Matt."

There are words to describe what that does to you. There are ways of speaking that can convey to others unfiltered emotion. I do not know many fancy words to to make you understand what I felt. I do not have a great gift for constructing metaphors or similes to help you understand what it means to me. What I do have, though, is this:

Nothing anyone can ever say or do will erase that from my memory and when I meet someone who makes me feel like I did when I heard him say that, I know exactly what I'll do.

Good night and sweet dreams, all.

Okay. This is a huge pet peeve of mine. So, as an open letter, he it is:

To Whom It May Concern,

Just so we start things off on the right foot, what the fuck is your problem? I realize that there are times when we're all ina hurry, but it would only take maybe 2 seconds out of your day to flush the damn toilet. That's right, I'm talking to you.

You stalk me wherever I go. Lord knows I have a hard enough time trying to go in public restrooms, I don't need your waste waiting for me to make an already harrowing experience that much worse.

"But, ew! I don't want to touch the handle!" My answer? You're already in the fucking bathroom, wash your hands. The sink is right there. Chances are you had your filthy, filthy hands on some gross, as-yet-unwashed nether-region anyway! And if touching the handle with your hand freaks you at, at least use your damn shoe!

In closing, just flush, okay? I don't want to have to choke a bitch.

Full of piss and vinegar,
Matt

Not only is today Friday, but it's also payday! Yay!

My first inclination is to go out and purchase the Tokyo Mauri MP5J with the level 2 upgrade (which increases FPS to 375). However, I think I'd rather go on a cruise. Club Med or some such crap. So, tonight, no airsoft.

But I do have alcohol at my house...

So, it's another late night for me and I'm sitting up in bed waiting for sleep to come. OKay...well, maybe not waiting for sleep just yet, but damn near. I'm watching Happy Gilmore and it's reminded me of Jess, far and away the most normal girl I've ever dated,

I've dated lots of girls and, until recently, I had no idea who my type was. I guess I still don't, truth be told. I have one in mind, but we'll see what happens.

More vaguernesses! You want details, ask me. :) In the meantime, goodnight.

It's funny the things you think about at night in that time when you wrestle sleep for the last few moments of consciousness, trying desperately to complete whatever your last thoughts are before succumbing to the beautiful void. How they all run together and mix in interesting, new ways.

Sometimes these amalgum-thoughts usually breathe enough life into you to leave an impression. Often it's nothing indelible, but it stays with you. And sometimes...sometimes they stick with you through morning and beyond. They become a part of you. A part of your dreams and goals. A part of your life.

And even rarer still are the times when goals and ideas and feelings and motives are not only confirmed by this random assortment of sleepy-time visions, but they are reinforced. They are built up stronger and made more a part of you than you thought. And your heart aches for it because, despite every other thing in your life, it is the one thing you've always been sure of and the only thing you've ever truly wanted.

But, honestly, what the fuck do I know? It's late, and I'm up writing a blog entry in this browser tab while the rest of the state sleeps. People in this time zone and several others before and after are asleep. I can hear my neighbors sleeping if I listen hard enough. I can hear the trees and the grass sleep while night cats walk amongst them. I can hear this city sleep. And they're all having these same amalgum-thoughts I'm looking forward to having 20 minutes from now. Because these are the waking dreams, the point inbetween this world and the unconscious (if there is, in fact, any real difference), that make things possible. The Impetus. Let's hope The Impetus has grand things in store for me.

Goodnight room.
Goodnight desk.
Goodnight computer.
Goodnight lamp.
Goodnight laundry.
Goodnight moon.
Goodnight pillow.
Goodnight...

Funny how these things work, isn't it? You can eat whatever you want your whole life and then one evening at a friend's for dinner you decide to see if their scale works and you freak out. Okay. Well, maybe that's not how it happens for all of us, but that's how it happened for me.

I went to dinner at a friend's last night and on a trip to the bathroom, decided to see if their scale worked and how much I weighed (I did this after waste evacuation in case the results surprised me so much I lost control of bodily functions). Much to my surprise I weigh a lot more than I anticipated. I clock in around 162lbs.

Don't ask me where I put it, I have no idea, but seeing it on that scale, measured out in digital numbers, it kind of scared me. Clearly, I can't just eat whatever I want any more and not worry about the consequences. I have to start eating better and exercising. For safety's sake, I calculated my BMI (body mass index) just to be sure I wasn't unhealthy. The result of this calculation, for my height and weight, is the high-end of the "healthy body weight" spectrum. A couple more pounds and I am, scientifically, overweight.

So, in with the running and the vegetables, out with the red meats. This is going to be weird.

Here are a couple humorous excerpts from IM conversations I had earlier today. Warning: this entry contains adult content not suitable for children...much like the rest of this site and my life in general.

The First

Marcia: I really think you know what you're doing. And I don't feel like I have some age advantage, like I've experienced so much that makes me better.

Marcia: I suppose I've experienced more of the '80s than you have. Does that somehow make me superior?

Me: Yes. You probably understood most of what was happening in Knight Rider.

Marcia: lol

Marcia: I'm afraid not.

Marcia: But anything you want to know about Magnum PI, just ask.

The Second

Me: [Me ex's] didn't service me as a proper woman should service her man. [Not 24/7], but, you know, whenever I demand it.

Dawn: At your beck and call

Me: Yeah. Exactly. See? You get it.

Dawn: I've had it beaten into me enough times, you'd think I'd remember.

Dawn: If a guy snaps his fingers and points to his crotch, I know exactly that I'm expected to do.

Me: Snaps?

Me: Bitch, I shouldn't even have to think about it.

Me: It should just happen.

Dawn: lol

Dawn: I'm *working* on my ESP, I swear

*Dawn cowers

Me: You wanna fall against your laptop again!?! DO YOU, GODDAMMIT!!!!????

Dawn: No. *sob* Not again! I'll do better, I swear.

Dawn: And Lord knows I don't want to get shocked in the cooter again.

Me: OMFGLMFAO

Hilarity.

You ever play that game "Operator" as a kid? Everyone sits around in a big circle and whispers into the person on the right's ear a simple message. This continues around the circle till it gets back to the one who started it. They then announced to the group what they initially said. It's an experiment in misinterpretation.

What follows is a simple test to see how well you know me. I will present to you a statement in its original form. Your task, dear reader, is to select what I heard. What my mangled brain-flesh transposed from a simple, harmless statement into something much, much worse. There is only one question. Best of luck. Please leave your answer as a comment. I will post the correct answer in due time.

Steph and Jason, please don't participate as you both were present.

The original statement was:

"I shocked myself on the computer."

Misinterpretations

A) I talked with some duders
B) I chucked elves from a scooter
C) I shocked myself in the cooter
D) I mocked myself as a user
E) None of the above
F) All of the above
G) (write in your own answer)

Those who are correct win nothing. Those who are incorrect lose nothing.

Begin.

So, it looks like things are off with Julia. We hadn't really been in contact lately so I sent her a small note asking how she was doing. Her mom had visited the weekend of the 8th so I didn't call because I figured she was entertaining. Come mid-week, I still hadn't heard from her so I wrote asking how she was doing and expressing hopes that her weeks had calmed down some.

She called me Sunday morning to reply. I was glad to hear from her. It was a pretty short conversation in general, but a pleasant one. Far more pleasant than the last. She got right to the point saying that "...this age difference really isn't working out for me" and, though she couldn't see it, I smiled on my end and said that it was okay. I asked if we could still be friends and she said we could. I asked her how her mom's visit was and how busy she'd been.

I won't lie. It hurt. To have such a great time with someone and then see a sudden change in a short amount of time can be crushing. I'm okay with it, though. Part of me wishes she'd said something sooner. It was clear to me something was wrong a month and a half ago, after she went on vacation. I'm not sure who talked to her or who she met, but it's probably for the best.

I still feel lucky, though. Things could have gone better, yes, and I am a little depressed about how everything turned out. In the end, however, I still know a great person who still wants to be friends with me and was happy I asked if we could be. So, back to the drawing board. This dating game is weird. Kudos to those of you who've made it through. To the rest, well...here's to good fortune in the future. Bail ó Dhia ort.

A few of you have recently voiced concerns regarding my drinking habits. Rest assured that you have been heard and changes are being made.

That is all.

...and you know what that means! It means party!

Well, it would mean party if I had planned one. As it stands, I have not. So, does anyone else know of a party going on? Call me. All I'm doing tonight is mailing out tax-related poo and playing video games.

Lately I've had a huge urge to run a game. I'm trying to set something up with Joshua and Jason, but given that they're already committed to several games and Joshua has a newborn, this might not be as easy as I'd hoped. This is a blessing in disguise, though, as it has been a very long time since I ran a game and wouldn't feel all that comfortable running one with the two people I consider to be master storytellers.

So, instead, I want to run my roommates in a game. Jason's down. I know he is. That guy will play anything. Steph, though, we'll have to see about. I'm not entirely sure it's somethign she'd like to get into. We'll see, though. I think running her and J through a Call of Cthulhu game might get her into it. She's big on psychological stuff.

I don't think I'll tell them about not reading books. :)

I was chatting online last night with a good friend of mine, Lindsay. She's a cute kid. Lives out in New Mexico. As I was closing up the conversation, she said she wasn't gonna sleep well and, before I had a chance to ask why, she logged out. I thought that was weird and then went to bed, myself. I haven't talked to her yet today, but damn did I not sleep well.

I sacked out on the couch, as usual (read yesterday's post), fell asleep for maybe 5 to 10 minutes wherein I had a dream that the devil was tormenting me. Killing memebers of my family and grotesque ways. That's the best part about dreams. I lived for 3 days in the span of 7 minutes. I woke up periodically after that until early this morning.

At that point my roommates came downstairs and I started asking them to get me a glass of whiskey 'cause I thought it'd be funny. Then, I started talking to them, but I couldn't really open my eyes. I yelled for them, but they pretty much ignored me. Then I woke up and realized that, yes, this was another dream. I also heard voices. That was a fuckload of fun. You ever try and sleep when people are talking to you?

Lastly, I dreamt I had a girlfriend. I don't remember who she was, but I remember knowing that person. She was probably an amalgum of different girls. Nothing sucks more than having a dream about a girlfriend and waking up to find that you're still sleeping alone.

Apparently, the only two things you can count on in life are death and taxes. I don't know that I wholly agree with that, but given that Friday is tax day, it seemed like an appropriate title. Also, it, like most of the following paragraphs, has nothing really to do with anything else included in the post. Let's hear it for stream-of-consciousness writing!

I have recently decided that my current living space, the actual, physical space, is a metaphor. I'd say I were surprised if I didn't already know it was true. Truth be told, it's pretty goddamn funny. The way that kind of thing manifests itself is way more apparent than we think sometimes. It acts on us and we act on it.

I had a pretty decent weekend. Nothing big. I did decide that I need more free time. I need to come home from work and have nothing to do. I think this would be ideal. I would also like to start planning my garden. I think that'd be a good thing to spend my time on. Video games aren't really that productive (but damn are they fun).

I thought about calling Julia, but remembered her mother was in town this weekend. I'll probably give her a call in the next couple days just to say hi. I'm confused as to what's going on. My friends all say there's an "outside force" acting on her, but, then again, all their knowledge of what's going comes from me. I just hope I've presented as objective a version as I can; that I wasn't swaying it with my own opinion.

I think it's safe to say that, in general, I "get" women. It's the ones I end up being interested in that confuse me. This can be rather frustration and I feel like just giving up, but, like Joshua said, I must stay open.

...and I think that's the end of the line. My train of thought ran out of steam (haha! I totally rock at metaphors). So, for now, I'm singing off.

I have no idea what I'm doing today. These are the problems I'm plagued with: a day off, a multitude of options, and no idea what to do. Maybe I'll get some clothes. Maybe I'll stay in with my beloved internet porn. Maybe I'll finally write that MT plugin (I need a tutorial). Maybe I'll continue to sit here in my pajamas.

Actually, ladies, any of you available?

Go here and read the first sentence. That's all I ask.

We publish a book at the company I work for called "JUnit." I couldn't help but think of 50-cent.

...and so one door closes a little more.

Here's to those that remain fully open.

There is more said here than you realize (unless you're Joshua).

Fuck you, daylight savings time. No one needs you. Eat my ass.

I love the show XPlay. Adam Sessler is hilarious. Morgan Webb is hot. The random skits crack me up. But the writing is where it shines (well, maybe not shines, but it's damn funny). For example, this quote:

"I'm not full of candy! I'm full of gin and bitterness!"

LMFAO

I laugh because I care...and I understand where he's coming from.

So, I have 10 minutes before my pastry crust is ready and I feel like blogging. Im sitting in my living room, drinking a Boddingtons (English food, English beer), and listening to Dashboard Confessional evaluating my life. This is a lot less thought intensive than you might expect.

Julia hasn't called yet. This is of some concern to me. One of two things has happened. First, she is very busy or otherwise occupied and hasn't had a chance to get back to me. Second, she is not nearly as into me as I thought she was. I'm okay with either prospect, really, but I think the second would prove to be painful. Not gut-wrenching nor enough to send me on a drinking binge (I'm past that). But, it would be painful.

It's interesting, to me at least, that I am feeling this way. Three months ago I would've been 8 beers into a 12-pack. Rarely do we change so quickly over time and rarer still is when we have time to sit, drink a beer, listen to some great music, and reflect on it. I like who I am and who I am becoming. I happen to think I'm a badass. If you don't agree, that's fine, too...bitch.

That's that. Time for me to go back to being domestic. Making food from scratch can be tough, but it's fucking good. Cornish pasties and Scotch eggs tonight. I'm definitely having leftovers tomorrow.

For starters, I promise to you this is not an April Fool's Day post. I am capable of more outlandish things than this. I may post one later. As it stands, I think this is as real as it comes though I hope someone proves me wrong. I came across this on Something Awful yesterday during lunch. The Ladder Theory basically states (and this is my own distillation, not the author's) that men and women can never truly be friends because one always wants to fuck the other. Now, I don't agree with that at all, but, for the sake of the effort this guy put into his website, I read through parts of it just to see what his theory is about.

He uses some great words like "theory" and "lemma" and "bitch," but beyond that, there aren't any sources. He has a series of graphs, but doesn't cite where he got his information from other than peer review and his own study. This is all fine and good except he's terribly biased. For example, in the "Answers to Common Criticisms" section he seems to be addressing an implicitly female speaker, never a male. Also, the "good mood/bad mood" answers at the end of that same section aren't generally something anyone of merit would put in a theory. It reads like a high school kid attempting psuedo-science: angry about something and desperately trying to apply logic to it when it is, inherently, illogical.

It is an entertaining read, though. An awful lot of thought went into it, which may be a good or bad thing depending on your point of view. The sheer number of contradictions poke holes so big in the theory that it could never hold any amount of water. In the "Foundations" section, there is a dialogue between a man and a woman (both very stereotypical) wherein the man explains to the woman why they can never be friends. Then, in the "Criticisms" section he says, "Yes, I hang out with people I don't want to sleep with, but they're all people who don't want to sleep with me either. So there's equity." and then "1. I have plenty of friends already 2. I will never be able to truly be friends with them because my perspective will be colored by my desire to sleep with them." Within 4 sentences, he's contradicted himself 3 times.

The paper starts with an outline of the theory which he then negates. He clearly states, through the dialogue, that men and women only want to sleep with each other. Then, some pages later, he says he doesn't want to sleep with some of his friends and they don't want to sleep with him (let's not discuss the fact that in this section men are curiously absent and women are the central part of each answer, implied or otherwise). This "equity" as he calls it undermines his entire point. The Ladder Theory, which says everyone wants to fuck everyone else, only applies if you want to fuck someone else. I believe this is called self-defining or a recursive definition. Worth noting is the absence of gays' representation in this theory.

His next two points are great contradictions simply because they're bulleted items on a list. The author states he already has plenty of friends, a reiteration of the statement I addressed above. Then, immediately after, he states he can never truly be friends with them because of his "colored perspective" of wanting to sleep with them. So, he has friends that aren't really friends because he wants to sleep with them, but he doesn't want to sleep with them because he's just told us he's not attracted to them. "Equity."

This paper is littered with subtle and obvious contradictions. He may have had something at the time, but my teenage angst has long since faded and, as such, this theory really doesn't make much sense to me. I'll give him that there exists sexual tension. I don't, however, buy into the fact that I want to bone every living woman on the planet.

In all honesty, I hope I've glossed over something or am misinterpreting some statement. I want to believe that someone who's spent as much time as he did to put this site together really has some sort of solid framework. I want to believe that anyone who put enough time into a theory such as this to translate it to another language (check the main page, it was translated into Dutch last September) would have found the same inconsistencies I found in a merely casual reading. As it stands, his answers to criticism, I feel, enfeeble an already weak theory by contradicting not only previously made points earlier in the paper, but also points made one or two sentences prior.

So, I'm sorry, but this doesn't get my stamp of approval. Sure, women can be unholy bitches, but guys can be total dicks, too. Doesn't mean I'm going to try and reason out a logical framework for it. Chances are "we just don't get along" is reason enough.