I'm tired and a bit lonely

Most of the time, when I check out my sites, I'm going on youtube to enjoy a funny and informative video, or reading a product review which might help me make a personal decision, essentially, I'm consuming.

The creation of this blog and other kinda stuff, has a different end purpose in mind. This gives me a platform to create, share, and interact with the people I know and hold dear.

But you say "Mike, isn't that the point of cell phones and text messaging, as well as social events and interaction? What do you need a website for?"

To this I say to you, "I school, work, drive, and sleep for about 22.5 of my 24 daily hours. Like, I'm not trying to be a dick or blow you off or anything, but I have NO time for scheduled events, weekend getaways, dinners with friends, any of that loveliness that I live for. I have little sleep, less time with friends, and I'm just kinda reaching out in a unique niche way.

So it is this I say to you, comment on my sites, text message me, and use all those wonders of modern civilization that allow us to stay connected on our separate busy schedules. Even if you don't know me that well, I'm really encouraging you to engage in conversation and debate and shared pleasure and maybe we can get to know each other a little better (or at all). I'm hoping to stay sane during this transitory period of my life.

On another side note, I have always believed and still maintain that people, no matter how busy, will make time for the things that matter for them. Even if it's the shortest time, or it takes a long time to come together, if I want it to happen with you, and you want to see me, I will make it happen. No matter what. At the cost of anything, my friends who I would take the bomb shelter with me have always been my most cherished aspect of my life.

In summation, give me your wallet or show me your boobies, gender specific.

Not Paying Attention in English Class, and Homework Assignments

So I'm a pretty busy dood. I work 40 hours a week while taking 13 credits. I have to use my time very efficiently to be able to squeeze out all the assignments, readings, studying, and papers to keep my grades high enough to stay in school (stop blogging, no really stop blogging, seriously, Stop Blogging, MIKE STOP BLOGGING), and the last thing I want to do is be required to read an 871 page novel written in the late 18th century.

Seriously, what do I do if I don't like it? It's 871 pages, and not wimpy Harry Potter shit. It's 871 real, dense pages full of topical references nobody understands, as a reaction to an event I've never heard of, and doesn't fit into the mold of anything I can make sense of. I spend about 30 minutes trying to read through it before just fucking quitting. I can't get into it, don't want to get into it, and have enough other stuff to do and enough excuses to just put my elegant middle finger up.

What do I do if I don't like an 871 page novel I've just cracked open? I STOP READING IT. I DON'T BUY IT. If it isn't worth my time and money, I fuck it and move on to the next big thing. Seriously, do we need all 871 pages to fill up a few lectures worth of worn out observations and dumb tidbits? Is there something important there, a diamond in the muck that we can pluck out and use to enhance our understanding of that author and that world and then move on. I don't marry girls if I'm interested in them, I talk to them and date them to grasp the essentials before making a commitment decision. Fuck, guys, I'm dying here, and class hasn't even started yet.

The professor talks about every event in the book even if you haven't read it. He plucks quotes and events straight from the book before teaching us what we need to learn from it. I take 2-3 bathroom breaks in the 75 minute lecture every single Tuesday and Thursday, without fail, so that I don't fall asleep. Sometimes, I just do it anyways.

As a reader and a writer and hopefully a scholar someday, I know how important it is to understand where things came from, how things evolved and how they're evolving today. I get it. The English has a long, rich tradition of writers from all backgrounds making profound contributions to the body of literature available to people everywhere. There has just GOT to be a better way to survey literature, be it through time period, author, region, what have you. And a lot of times, there are no shortcuts around reading long-ass work. But rather than keep complaining about the way things are, I'm gonna design a quick scenario, a lesson plan if you will, to more interestingly incorporate the learning traits of students while respecting their opinions and backgrounds at the same time:

"Next week we're focusing on author Samuel Samuelson. I have a list here of 10 books, 25 poetry collections, and 15 essays he wrote. Your assignment for the weekend is to read 3 poems, 3 chapters in a book, and 1 essay. Check in on Wikipedia or some other kind of author profile site on the web to get an idea of his history and life, and then write a two-pager about why you think he wrote what he wrote when he wrote it, cross-referencing evidence between his life and the work at hand. You'll turn this in on Tuesday, and in class we will discuss as a group what you think he might be like as a person, and what personal traits came out in the work you reviewed, again with support. Each person should be ready to finish this sentence: If I went to have a beer with Samuel Samuelson, I would ask him..."

There. You've incorporated your research practice, requiring citing between sources. You're getting a grander overall perspective from the author. You are synthesizing information from multiple sources to form an opinion based on your own perspectives. You can read from a choice, rather than having to read the same thing. Everyone will have different opinions based on different readings. You can share information between people, each person becoming a mini-expert, sharing their knowledge with other people who can likewise exchange knowledge. You're fostering social interaction, shared research, group work, and imaginative reading approaches. It brings life to an otherwise dead topic. And believe me, literature is the words on the page. It's dead unless you bring it to life in interesting ways.

Homer Simpson's hair transplant

There are links everywhere on the internet where you can watch the Simpsons, so you don't need my help in typing up google.com, but if you look up the Treehouse of Horror IX (season 10 ep. 4), you'll see an alarming tale of Homer Simpson being the beneficiary of Snake's 'do after he is fried in the electric chair. The one problem is, Snake vows revenge while on his death chair, so after the plant, Snake transfers his consciousness to Homer via the transplanted hair.

The hair is essentially a headcrab (or Liquid Snake's arm on Revolver Ocelot), digging through Homer's scalp into his brain, so that Homer is like a puppet for the now-deceased Snake. He behaves like the hair donor until bla bla bla you can watch the episode. I want to focus on the puppet part.

I got a new haircut recently, it's a cool modern hairstyle where I like to throw it up, kinda faux-hawk, kinda spiky, really badass. It has dominated my life since Friday.

I've since been to a few parties, gone to a few classes, hung out with my coworkers at work, and everything seems different. I'm normally a pretty sensitive, sometimes timid, often off-the-wall kinda guy, and while I still say things to make me the butt of every joke, my spiked hair has given me a weapon to be a lot more aggressive, a lot more angry and mean, a little bit edgy and cool, but mostly an eggheaded kneeball with few inhibitions and even less respect.

It's kind of annoying, because the haircut really does make me look better. The mere act of taking the time to style my hair has gotten me compliments from friends and coworkers alike (classmates don't much talk to each other anymore, in my experience). However, I felt better at first, but after 2 hours I started to feel like a complete douchefag whenever I been openin my fuckin trap of a mouth. I find myself saying hurtful, regretful things then trying to backpedal out of it, like I've come back from workin' out real hard over the summer and I'm trying to start fights.

It's an imperfect analogy, because the only puppeteer is the set of expectations in my brain correlating the way (generalization) people who look the way I do now ought to act (/generalization).

Really, can't I just fucking get a clue? It's tough to make an analysis of my behaviors, because my evaluations are functions of how I perceive people are reacting to me, and what I think of how I'm behaving, and those analyses are often less than 100% accurate. But really? I'm usually a somewhat thoughtful, open-minded, big-hearted, optimistic and hopeful young man. I thought people were too busy with their lives to notice it about me, so I got angry and started dressing like a slob, fuck it all. Now, I'm trying to take back over, but I haven't left behind my bitterness, and I'm taking it out on anyone who wants to notice me now.

Seriously, I'm the worst kind of person right now.

Transcription of a poem I wrote while not paying attention in class

Let's not confuse innocent with naive;

the one who takes a beating

or the one duped to fight

the man.

But who hides on the ceiling,

ready to shine the light?

The boy has room to grow, but his

neurons have found their path

through syringes, POs, tattooed tears

and stained lips.

The man is comfortable enough, Kaiser Permanente

footing the 2 months of medical leave he took,

spending 3 weeks in VA beach

with his mistress;

she already has 2 kids and wants him 2 come home 4 her.

If Willy had more money

and some philosophy, he'd burn herb,

instead his parents kicked him on the

curb, aspiring author turned college

delinquint, turned

quintessential

emotional

stumbling block.

He's grown up a bit, running 4 McDonald's franchises

in the Atlanta metropolitan area, pulling in

a healthy 6 figures. He will be T-boned

on the way to work in the morning.

(1)

Who has told a lie while reading this?

Did you text love

to your boyfriend

while your boss is on your mind,

in your office,

on your desk,

in you?

Ever'thang ain't fo'ever'one.

And if something good came out of it,

a swimming pool, maybe? You

can learn your man to quit it with

the fuckin' questions.

(2)

If you told a lie to her,

you're lying to yourself, too.

I gotta get the door,

pizza's here.

Tuesday with the Philosophers

Before I begin, this image belongs to Bill Watterson, Universal Press Syndicate, and Andrews McMeel publishing. I know that 10 or fewer people check my blog, but I really don't want to dabble in taking credit where it's not due.

This comic strip is the best in the universe, and in this post and perhaps several others, I will explain why, so let's dig in, shall we?

We've all had show-and-tell presentations in elementary school, and we've probably each had a few close calls in forgetting which day we're presenting, and not bringing anything.

Well today in class, Calvin forgot to bring his show-and-tell object. Yet instead of sheepishly laying down and hoping the teacher won't notice, he stands up and makes his presentation anyways. He starts off by fighting the system, then failing to disguise his evil genius as he plans to deprive the whole class of that one catharsis, whetting their appetite while depriving them of food. It's perfect! He's bullshitting, he's selling, he's presenting, he's going outside the box, he's pissing off the wrong people.

He's sent to the principal's office, as would be expected. Watterson spent a lot of time during the life of the comic strip reflecting on how the modern school system fails to nurture students who are really intelligent, but are not easy to babysit. I'm sure there is a large percent of the student population throughout the years where the school system really failed them, and a huge amount of potential goes to waste because of poor procedure, underpaid, tired teachers, and not helping the student find a path. Even I can relate to Calvin, trying to bullshit my way through assignments, and trying to exercise my creativity and flexibility in ways that weren't necessarily kosher. I've developed my own way of doing things, and I think that I'm pretty good at some stuff, but I rarely have a good GPA in school.

Calvin also has clarity. He sees the meta-knowledge about the futility of doing the same things everyone has already done before, and saying the same things that everyone has said before. The world is changing the fastest it ever has in history. We hunted and gathered for tens of thousands of years before learning to cultivate the land and sustain a small human population in one location over a long period of time. Yet, we're adhering to educational methods developed in conjuction with late agrarian, early industrial society. Calvin shows a disdain for an educational system which truly doesn't meet the needs of helping individuals to succeed in our fast-changing world.

I just hope that those out there who have to battle the school system to achieve a very limited definition of "success" in my opinion, see the futility of trying to please the establishment at every turn, and really find something to pour their energy into. Calvin has the benefit of being hugely imaginative, ambitious, and resourceful. He'd probably tear up a storm in a competitive business setting, and I would hate to be the one he's gunning for. Be creative, waste your time doing something absolutely amazing, and if you make it pretty and make it well, the world will bend to your accomplishments. Just look up HuskyStarcraft on Youtube and see how many upload views he's gotten in the time since he started up.

A fresh breath of rain

Last night, I had a nighttime drive from Salisbury to my home in Damascus. There was a small rift in the space-time continuum between the two locations in my life, but before writing on how astrophysical anomalies tend to follow and pester me on a bi-annual basis, I just wanted to talk about the unique properties of this particular road trip.

My brother has been going through a lot of changes lately, and I might have let my own little obstacles and situations obscure what I feel is important to life. He recently finished a graduate program in physical therapy, where he became a DPT in 3 full years, fall-winter-spring-and-summer included. He has been with his girlfriend for over a year, who has become as much a part of my family as anyone whose blood I share. He doesn't have a semester of school to attend for the rest of his life, he is going to have a salary, paid vacations, and is saving up to buy his own place.

Even up till last night, I was just playing Nintendo with Scott. I have to remember to call him Doc from time to time.

See, I thought this part of our lives was offset by 4 years or so, given that I'm still an undergrad, but I'm learning hard and fast what being an adult looks and sounds like, and though I have my own situations to deal with, I don't quite know what it feels like.

We talked for those hours, and though the contents of which are largely confidential, I will say it's unfathomable to me to be making a decision about where to live, or what kind of job you want, or how often you plan on seeing your parents, and what it means to be able to relax for a weekend. See, my whole life is still set out for me. My bed is in the same place it's been since I was old enough to go to school, my Dad makes my lunch everyday, and I'm still as confused as to where I should be or what I want to do if I'm supposed to be growing up.

Scott has found something though, a kind of peace and contentment to accept what's going to happen next, all the while putting his energy to make the best of everything that comes around. He has an assertive, calculated way of doing things. He makes lists, lets his emotions sink in and settle, sacrifices for others without thinking twice, spends earnest time listening to you, plays awesome Halo when nobody's watching, and acts with respect for his own needs without disrespecting the opinions of others. The most difficult-to-interpret aspect of these qualities though, is that he doesn't think about any of it, he just does it.

It is said in the field of artificial intelligence that a good heuristic allows you to skip testing the possible solutions that you know won't work ahead of time. There is something in his brain that allows him to subconsciously filter and wade through the bullshit in this one-shot life we lead. I don't know if I have it, I don't know if I can learn it, but I know that I can choose to be more energized, I can choose to be more passionate, I can choose to be more respectful, and I can accept the consequences for the choices I've already made.

I have a lot on my plate, but the human being is so much more capable than we often allow it to perform. I'm so lucky I'm able to do everything that I am now, and I can't wait to see what happens next. Thing is, I have to temper that excitement by learning now what won't wait till the last week before exams.

And at the end of the car ride, we went inside rejuvenated from the weekend, talked to our parents about football and new fall TV shows, and I cleaned my room up before settling in for my next week in the continuing saga...

College parties

I went to a college party in Salisbury, MD last night, and while I enjoyed the copious amount of alcohol, and the cleavage, it reminded me a bit of why I don't seek out that sort of activity.

The problem lies in the masquerade. I spent several hours in close proximity to many people, some of whom were girls that I found attractive. While there was certainly social interaction, I didn't really get a sense of any of their personalities, and they certainly didn't get to know me. Everyone had their "game face" on, and college parties are always a place where people bring out their game face.

So despite how I project myself on the interwebz, nobody at the party knows anything about me:

-I love video games, I follow competitive meta games even when I'm not playing

-I love comedy, and comedy videos, I tried to start up as a youtuber until the camera disappeared

-I love music, particularly stuff with real passion and soul (cough, Tom Waits)

-I think that serial comic strips didn't deserve Bill Watterson or Calvin and Hobbes; in an art form consisting of dried-up puns and bad, formulaic style, he made the only comic strip deserving of any attention as "art," with excellent character, form, and true depth

Here's what they saw at the party:

-This guy just got a new haircut, and he's gettin' some fuckin' pussy tonight

I wasn't funny, and I didn't get any pussy, but I do love my new haircut.

Addendum: While I may have been bitching about the lack of exposure, it certainly goes both ways.

I saw a lot of cute girls and nice cleavage, but I didn't have the pleasure of meeting anyone. It's unfair to judge people by their tits.

do you think you like girls too easily?

This was a question asked to me on Formspring a day or so ago. Now before you go off about how dumb Formspring is, I absolutely love the attention and try to answer every question honestly so you shut it right up, ya hear. I don't have time to talk about why humans, when offered anonymity and full access, tend to ask questions about how many different sexual things I've done.

Now to the question at hand. I could have made a short response on Formspring, as that would have matched its purpose, but I didn't feel that any one of my short responses could encompass the fullness of thought I've made on this subject, as I have had many experiences in the last 2 years-ish of falling fast and hard for several different girls.

In my (relatively) long relationship with my former girlfriend, I would not spend any social energy trying to be friendly with anybody but her and my good friends. I had love in my life, and there was no reason to really spread my wings and meet new people. So for those 3 social years in high school and college, I was known to be involved closely with one girl, and I didn't bother to learn how to be friends with women.

Since then, I've liked one girl, then another, then another, then the same one again, trying to ask girls out, hit on girls at parties, reconnect with girls I used to know who grew extremely hot, and basically I've been failing so hard on all fronts. I just don't really know how to talk to women when I put myself under the pressure of trying to make a romance happen.

I've learned a lot in these few years, mostly to be honest with myself. I wouldn't really change the manner in which I've gone about my search for women in this time, because I was groping in the dark to find not a person, but what I really wanted and needed. There are some important things about self-image and friendship and confidence that I never considered before this awkward time of being single.

So do I like girls too easily? Maybe in this period of my life, I've been throwing myself out there a bit too much, but that's just kinda how I do things. I certainly don't want to act like someone else to attract more people, because ultimately, I'm only looking for one. If there's someone out there looking for what I'm offering, and wants the same things I do in a friendship/relationship, and who has what I think I need, then it's just gonna happen. That's kinda how humans experience the universe.

That being said, I think sometimes I either send the wrong message about what I want or it might get misinterpreted. I might start talking to you a lot, or texting you, or sending a back and forth facebook message, and that's just me trying to feel you out, get to know you a bit better, see what you're all about. I might say or do some stupid things, but that's just kinda what I do every minute of every day, and if you like it, think it's funny, that's great. Just don't read too much into it. Other than the fact that I'm certifiably bat shit insane. Basically though, don't get all reserved and shit because you think I'm falling for you or anything crazy like that. I'm not. I just want to talk to you, sometimes about uncomfortable things. Because I like talking about things that are visceral, real, evoke reaction, expose human life.

That all wouldn't fit in a Formspring.

No Matter How Hard I Try

I take great caution, go through tons of extra pain, but because of something I can't control, I never fail to dribble some urine on my pants every time I go to the bathroom. It's because of my damn foreskin, it just blocks and redirects some of the stream so as to spray a little bit on the outside of whatever pants I'm wearing. I leave the bathroom 80% of the time hoping nobody looks down and raises their eyebrows. I have to lie about the sink being wet or drying my hands on my pants. The other 20% of course is poopy, and I'm good at that.

I'm in the middle of class

So I'm on my computer in the middle of discussion. I can barely stay awake, think straight, and keep my food down without concentrating too hard. My backpack is too heavy, the grass is too thick, the air I've been breathing is so sparse from conditioners and smoke and dust and fear that I would pass out in a truly natural place. My body is pulsing periodically from the flow of blood, and maybe this is what time is. I can't see, my head aches, and I just want to lay down, maybe to rest, maybe to die. My teeth have had their metallic straightening construct affixed firmly to them for the past few years that I don't even know how to smile anymore. I've been doing things that I need to for so long that I don't know what I want anymore. So much so that I live on impulse. Biting down so strongly my tongue bleeds. Stapling myself because I've never done it before. Letting my fingers flow on a keyboard and observing the monkey's madness form fiction and fallacy. My keyboard clicks too loudly, I haven't clipped my nails in 2 weeks. I have more hair on my upper arms than muscle. I can't lift my car. I can't lift my plate. My dog lifted his head just now, but I can't know why. He's 35 miles away. He, of course, is just the category we ascribe to difference. He is not too different from a she. He is too different from a she. Her name might be spelled with a J or a Y, but those symbols aren't necessary to know her name. Two days ago, the Earth was on a tragic point in its orbit. God is studying his plum fermenting in a petri dish. Would He know what enjoy is?

And I got demoted

I don't have any experience in the auto industry, so my short run as a CS rep at Criswell Honda has ended. I'll be a damn good valet though, since they didn't fire me. Isn't it great to be awesome at entry-level positions?

Thoughts on Dreams

Recently, I've been thinking about strength, like the tenacious mental kind, not really the brute force kind. Maybe patience or perseverance would be better terms given the circumstance. Anyways, I had the worst case of the Mondays this Labor Day Tuesday that I think I've ever had, and I've been wondering about how people get on with their lives when things aren't going their way.

I spoke with my parents, my co workers, fellow students, and came up with one simple one: "shut up, you baby." Not really, but essentially, life frequently presents tough obstacles that we either overcome, or fail in trying, or fail to try.

I don't really know what started me down this particular path, but my habit has certainly been to give up when things get rough, and yesterday I was rebelling against my circumstance, trying to find a way out, rationalizing some kind of quitting. The first figure in my life that I remember calling me out on this behavior was my high school cross country coach, Youngblood. He told me something along the lines of "if you quit the first time, you will be able to quit everything too easily for the rest of your life." How true that has been.

I quit this, that, the other, and a whole slew of other garbage when it's gotten too tough for my comfort: jobs, relationships, therapy programs, classes (!), workout programs, academic majors, and for what? I think my fear of the difficult and fear of failure and habit have driven me to quit almost everything good in my life for no other reason than to preserve whatever fragile self-image I might have had of myself.

Yet in trying to preserve my self-image, I've ruined any real accomplishment and contribution I might have made as I've aged into an adult. In fact, my body might be maturing, but in case I address some deep character flaws, I will never be able to hold myself responsible for the ultimate failures I've made in various aspects of my life, a key part of being a "mature" "adult."

God Damn do I fucking miss everything I might be doing if I had taken charge and made the hard decisions and endured the difficult times and seen even one thing through past the one day or hour or moment when I decided "enough is enough." I miss you. If you're reading this, wondering what I'm talking about, I'm talking about you. I miss everything. I miss you.

To put it metaphorically, there are 15 different ways I can walk between my classes. If I look to another pathway and see a cute girl I want to check out in person, I'll change paths to walk closer by that person. I'm losing a bit of time. But I look back on the path I was just on and fall in love with the girl I might have crossed by had I stayed on my original path. My reason to dip out was weak, and now I can see across the lawn to the life I wish I was living.

How do people have the strength to endure the everyday? Where do people find the patience to face the difficulties in ones life, and learn and change and grow and do great? Why do I shoot myself in the foot in every aspect of my being, burning bridges and avoiding my potential for great learning and passion in my life.

Instead, I'm stuck feeling that I've had no great accomplishments in my life since high school, which are spoon-fed to kids anyways in order to build self-esteem.

There's just one thing that I love and cherish and miss the most that I won't elaborate on any longer, but losing it was an inevitable consequence of the habits I built up in my years on Earth. It floors me and renders me helpless for entire days if the thought even crosses my mind.

With all these painful thoughts going through my mind, I wonder how I'll endure my existence, but my experience tells me it'll pass and I'll move on with my life. However, I can't say it'll make me stronger, as I've ended up weaker after every turn so far.