Little did I know that Saturdays were music days.  I came in at around 5 PM, stalking as usual, and left again at around 6:30 PM.  The Elegant Universe is pretty good so far.  When I returned about 8:30 PM R was there accompanied by a sweet Jazz ensemble.  I pretended not to see him.  I got up to go to the bathroom and when I walked back I pretended to have just noticed him.  We talked.  C was in town and she came by and chatted also.  It made it seem like I wasn't stalking and was instead waiting for her to come by.  As we left I suggested that I would be around agian at 4 or 5 PM today.  I will be...waiting...stalking my prey.

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I was thinking maybe today I would try and do what I did yesterday, avoid M1 as much as possible.  I had an amazing day yesterday.  I ate lots of good foodstuffs and after ditching him I drove downtown to find that a used bookstore was closing.  Previously that day I had, in fact, been pondering purchasing this one book that really had an incredible impact on my childhood.  Unfortunately, Barnes and Nobles did not have it and I'm poor so I didn't really want to pay full price anyway.  My mother had said to try a used bookstore, but I didn't know of one in Columbia.  It was almost like something heard me mentally calling out for a cheap book to read.  So I ran inside and straight to the science fiction.  I looked and looked but the books were in a pretty loose alphabetic order and I was having trouble locating anything really.  I was about to leave discouraged when I saw the book I had been wanting to buy, Time Enough for Love by Robert Heinlein.  It was the only book of his on the shelves.  I was excited.  I ran back to the counter and slammed it down with a huge childlike grin on my face.  The lady laughed a little and said, "Well, I've never seen a young lady so excited about a Heinlein book.  That'll be $2.50."  I scurried off to read satisfied that perhaps my luck was coming back in some small form.

C is always someone who can make you feel better.  She knows how to put someone in a bad situation at ease as well as how to make your problems feel small without making you feel small.  We giggled and walked and bought silly things at Walgreens and watched a portion of Kill Bill and in general frolicked.  It was good.  Also, after picking up her beau N and M1 we headed to Flatbranch were we met a couple of other strapping young lads.  One friended me on facebook immediately after the encounter so I can only assume that he is lonely and thinks I am, too.  While I am indeed lonely I really don't want to give off that vibe.  I'll have to work on it.

But yeah, in summary I had so much fun and met some cool kids.  I also was successful in my stalking mission.  I love successful missions.  I get bonus ninja points and extra experience.

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Anyway it was a wonderful day...until the moment that M1 and I were alone together.  He starts arguing with me about the most mundane things.  Don't you hate when you are trying to have a conversation with someone and instead of listening to your story they pick out some tiny detail to hassle you about, completely derailing the story and not, in fact, improving it in any capacity by the clarification of said tiny detail.  In addition he decided to start picking at me for stupid things that don't matter.  I said, "Sorry." to some boys smoking on the steps of our building and hey gave me an earfull about it.  "They were in the way.  You didn't have to say sorry.  Why did you say sorry?" he asks me in a gruff angry voice like I just backed into someone else's car.  Oh wait!  Maybe I was just trying to be polite!  Maybe I actually care about other human beings and feel bad for making them move from their perches while they are speaking with one another.  Oh yeah, I forgot, you're never ever wrong, are you?  It really makes me crazy.  Here I tell this guy that it's not working out and that I just don't have fun with him anymore and a bunch of other stuff along those lines and he keeps responding that we can work it out and all that, but what does he do?  He insults me and tells me what I should know when I told him I'm sick of it and it's depressing me.  I could just fucking drop kick him!  God damn, kid!  I had an awesome day and now we are alone and I'm completely depressed.  And you suggest that it isn't you that's making me so sad!  You are WRONG.

So yeah, to summarize, I think I'm going to go stalking again and read books like yesterday and then afterwards I'm going to call M2 and see if she wants to hang out.  That way I won't have to deal with M1 today all that much.

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Parents are so cute sometimes.

My father has recently gotten into WoW and has been playing it pretty heavily.  Of course he is an utter nublet and he makes me laugh with the things he says.  I love how everything about the game is so new and interesting to him.  It reminds me of when I first started playing.

I like to think of playing good video games like finding an awesome restaurant.  The first few times you go the food is just so amazing and everything tastes good.  You try all the menu items and pick your favorite.  You learn the waiters' and waitresses' names.  You smile at the owner as he/she starts to notice that you come in a lot. Finally, every time you come in it's like your with a second family enjoying dinner together and even if you don't come in for a long time, when you do come back in everyone still knows your name and your order by heart.  Video games work the same way.  You spend the first couple weeks (or months for a more complicated MMO) learning the basics and getting a feel for the game.  Then as you learn everything you start getting into the more subtle elements.  After some time you know the game so well that everything you do is fun rather than a learning experience.  You develop a mass of goofy and enjoyable-to-explain memories that you can share with others who have played the game, kind of making you a special family.  Even if you don't play the game for a long time, you still have those memories and it's still fun to get back into, regardless of the time between plays.

Anyway, my mother sent me an e-mail this morning.  She wanted to inform me of a link, www.lolcats.com, that was just amazingly funny.  I didn't have the heart to tell her that of course I had seen this website and I even have it linked in my facebook profile.  She seemed so excited like she had finally found something before I had seen it on the web.  I gave her her victory.

My parents are so sweet.  How is it that I was so lucky and got the best parent combination in the history of man?

Rereading that last entry made me realize how much fun thinking about memories is.

Once, long ago before I had breasts or knew what my vagina was for, I was very angry with my mother.  I ran out the front door with the intention of passing my entire body through a hole in the front gate and running away to my grandmother's house so that my mother would know I was angry.  Unfortunately, children don't have amazing amounts of spacial thinking ability around age 3 or 4 and I of course could not fit through said hole in the front gate.  Instead, I got my head stuck and could not free myself before my mother came out wondering what was going on.  She looked down at me and said, "Nee Nee, what are you doing?"  I looked back up at her and shouted, "Runny way Ma's!!" as I was not too great at speaking yet.  She nodded and said, "Are you stuck?"  I tried to shake my head no, but I was stuck.  She helped to remove me from the gate and took me back inside.  I forgave her since she had saved me from being stuck in a fence.  Later, as in when I was 14 or 15, she told me that she had been so frightened that day.  If I had actually gotten out of the yard and into the pastures beyond and tried to run all the way to my grandmother's house at the age of 4 who knows if I would have been trampled to death by cows or gotten lost in the woods surrounding our farm or any number of things that could have been fatal at 4.  But my mother never showed it.  When she came out to the gate where I was stranded she was calm and collected.  My mother is one of the strongest women I know, and on that day I got stuck in our gate I started thinking that.

When I was 5 I had my first experience with a video game.  My father was playing Super Mario Bros. 3 on our Nintendo like he had many times before, but this time instead of just watching I asked to play.  I played that game for hours that day...and the next day and the next day and the next day.  When I got bored with it I wanted more.  So my dad bought more and I played more.  Soon we had a computer.  It ran the DOS Shell, if anyone remembers that but me, and I played Wolfenstein until I couldn't stay awaken any longer.  I remember my mother would always come in and watch me for about five minutes until she said, "Ah!  I can't watch this anymore!  It's making me carsick!  How do you and your father do it?"  Then she would wander off.  I could never beat the final boss in the game and I always had to call for my dad to come and do it for me.  As time progressed and our computers got more powerful and started to run Windows my dad bought more games.  When I was 9ish I believe he bought Doom and I played the crap out of that game, so much so that he bought Doom II when it came out just for me.  He also bought me Quake as it looked like Doom with better graphics.  I played those games for sooo many hours.  I would always put in my parents CD's and listen to them while I played, like Simon and Garfunkel and the Moody Blues and Fleetwood Mac.  To this day when I hear those songs I am soothed and I think of shooting the crap out of aliens and demons.

My father's parents lived by a lake.  They had a little beach that they had made with sand and whatnot.  They had a beautiful house that was much cleaner than my own.  I loved going there.  My grandfather would make grilled cheese sandwiches with that cheese that comes in a big rectangular cube.  I can't remember the name, but I do remember that my own parents, being that they made very little money running a florist shop, were too cheap to buy it.  I loved those cheese sandwiches and I would always ask for seconds and thirds and on and on until my grandfather got tired of making them.  Then I would want to watch a movie, but my grandparents were very Christian and all the R-rated movies my parents let me see when I was 8 or 9 where not part of their collection.  The only "good" movie they had was Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  So, every time I went to their house I watched it...three to four times.  By the time I was too old to sit around and watch movies at my grandparent's house I had probably seen it over 100 times.  It's still my favorite movie.

When I was in the third grade I became aware that when some places on your body were touched, they felt better than other places.  I decided to explore this new discovery with a marker.  It was also about this time that I discovered that boys and girls sometimes looked kind of nice and I wanted to be close to them.  Overall, however, this was a very awkward time for me as I am not at all shy in any capacity and I said lots of strange things to my classmates.  It was at this time that I also realized that girls did not always like other girls and I was indeed strange for having those feelings.  So, in a year I went through a revolution of feeling.  First I wanted everyone to know that I wanted to touch them and make them feel good and by the end I wanted to hide my feelings from everyone.  It was a pretty sad time for me and it turned me into the "weird" kid when before I had been the "smart" kid.  I was pretty alone.  Fourth and fifth grade resulted in the same thing.  I was made fun of not for liking girls anymore but just for being strange.  I was still wearing matching sweat combos with kittens on them and sweater vests with stirrup pants while the other girls were learning about fashion from their mothers.  Instead I was learning about computer games from my dad and how to make cookies from my mother.  It was also about this time that we got the internet.  I discovered pornography and chat rooms early.  I had a porn folder within a week of getting the internet.  I would go into chat rooms late at night after my parents had gone to bed and try to find people to cyber with since it seemed none of my classmates were interested.  This change almost made it so that I could only feel sexy when I was at a computer.  I stopped being interested in other people since they brought nothing but pain and I started spending more and more time with my computer and my consoles.  Each new game I played was a way to become someone else.  Each new porn site I found was a way to feel like I was attractive without human interaction.  I was lonely.  However, all through this time I had been in the gifted program.  I got in in third grade and it ran all the way through middle school.  I started to notice in sixth grade that the other people in gifted seemed alright.  They didn't cause me much pain.  I guess you could say I had friends.  We didn't hang out outside of gifted, but every Wednesday morning I couldn't wait to skip three hours of class to hang out with these people who seemed almost as strange as me.  I tried to date every one of them in my hella awkward way and was turned down every time, but at least I wasn't alone. 

I started keeping a notebook, or I guess you could say journal, when I was in sixth grade.  I didn't just write journal entries, though.  I wrote poems and drew pictures and just doodled whenever I was all alone in my room...which was a good portion of the time.  It was a 5-subject notebook and therefore I hadn't filled it completely until freshman year of high school.  I wrote everything in it and two or three other notebooks that I kept.  I wrote notes that I never delivered, how I felt about boys and how I loved my classes, but I never wrote about my feelings for girls.  Another girl had come out as bisexual about the time we got into sixth grade and everyone had made so much fun of her that I was just to frightened to tell anyone.  I was so paranoid that I thought writing it or making it tangible in any way ran the risk of someone finding out.  So, my bisexuality was my secret and no one else's until graduation from high school.  On graduation day I told my "friends" about my sexuality.  A couple of them just started talking to me this summer.  Wow, I sure loved growing up in a small, hillbilly ass town.

High school was pretty nice.  I had my Playstation and Playstation 2 to keep me company in addition to an even faster computer...with the same slow internet.  I didn't play any online games but I had lots of fun with all the Final Fantasies, Baldur's Gate, Metal Gear Solid, and Soul Reaver:  Legacy of Kain I could play.  Things were good.  I actually started feeling good about myself.  All my teachers told me I was intelligent and all my classmates came to me for homework help.  The addition of the driver's license to the equation meant that my friends and I went to Jefferson City all the time to see movies and buy stuff and just have fun.  I would say that it was the best time in my life.  I had lots of crushes and lots of disappointments in the boyfriend department, but being in a town so small I really am not surprised.  I was also a little chunky back then so that could have played a role.  However, I realized that I was chunky junior year and started working out and dieting and lost over 30 pounds by the time I went off to college, still on of the things I'm most proud of doing in my entire life.  I also got myself a serious boyfriend for the first time junior year.  Granted, he was a fat lazy stoner, but the fact that I had finally wrangled myself a boy made me feel amazing.  When I graduated I would have to say that I felt the happiest I had ever felt in my life.  That summer was pretty fun and I was so excited about college and all the new people I would meet and possibly have sex with.

The happiest day of my life was the first day of freshman year here at Mizzou.  On that day I had the most hope for the future, the most love for myself and the most straight up joy that I have ever had on a single day.  A few weeks later I started this xanga and got on facebook, so everything else is very well documented already.

So yeah, memories are great.  They tell the story of who we are and how we got where we are.  I love thinking about the past, the bad and the good, because everything that happened got me where I was one the first day of freshman year.  Unfortunately, things didn't go as well as planned after that, but that's alright.  At least I was happy at some point.  I should be grateful.  Many people are never happy.

We've always had three couches in the livingroom.  Three couches means three couches worth of pillows.  My brother and I and several kittens once built a fort out of two umbrellas, six blankets, 12 pillows and 4 chairs.  I would have to say that it was one of the more fabulous things I remember about life.

As I was thinking on this delicate and gentle memory of days long since past and that amazing fort that my brother and I hid in with kittens and ate Girl Scout cookies in for over a week until my father was just too interested in the television to allow us to obstruct the view anymore, I compared that safe innocent feeling to my current situation.  I would hope that everyone can pick a moment from their childhood, a moment in some special secret place, where they felt like nothing could really be better...a moment where everything was "perfect."

I've come to hate this word, actually.  Perfection has become a terrible enemy of mine over these past few years.  I've destroyed everything I ever was in the quest for perfection.  I feel like I have some kind of obsessive disorder that is centered around perfection.  I've lost myself in this word, this concept.

I've never gotten a B.  Never.  I'm through my second year of college.  I'm a monster.  I've denied myself fulfillment and happiness so I could study.  I've blown off dear friends to read textbooks.  I've ignored my emotions and physical needs to memorize ultimately useless information.  Is having a 4.0 perfection?  It's only perfection if you are talking about learning how to work the grading system, that is memorizing information rather than learning it and forgetting it all to make room for more after the final is over.  I would think that on average I remember and understand about 25% of the information that I am presented with in any given class.  Using this stat, I should really have a 1.0.  I agree with this number.

So I have a 4.0.  So I've been doing really well on my research.  So I can certainly obtain any career I desire.  Guess how many good friends I have.  FUCKING GUESS!!  None.  There is not one person on this earth that I can really call a true friend.  This is no failure on their parts either.  I am a joyless workaholic who judges everyone infinitely more harshly than myself.  No one meets my standards of, get this, perfection.

Why is it that I desire perfection in all things so much?  Why is it that rather than working towards happiness I work toward perfection?  You might be thinking that they could be the same thing, but I beg to differ. 

Happiness is that feeling that everything is good and satisfying.  Things might not be perfect, but they are good enough.  You feel like you don't need anything else.  You are satisfied.  That is happiness to me. 

Perfection is so different.  Perfection brings on the feeling that you can always do better than you are doing.  You are never satisfied if you work toward perfection.  Why?  Because everything can always be closer to perfect.

I think satisfaction is so much better than perfection.

I'm never satisfied.  I'm never happy.

I was happy, though.  I remember.  I remember the forts and the games and the joy and the luck and the fun and the randomness of life before I knew any better.

"What's different now?" I keep asking myself in my head.  What changed?  I run everything over and over in my head.  I think about everything that has ever happened to me.  I can pinpoint the moment I felt true, deep, unending sadness.  I can pinpoint the moment I chose perfection over happiness for the first time.

When I sacrificed another person's happiness for what I thought would bring me greater happiness, that was the moment the concept of happiness was tainted for me.  If I was happy then why did I need to be more happy?  I sort of think that happiness is either true of false, either you are or you aren't happy.  There aren't really degrees of happiness.  It's just a feeling underlying everything else.  So you twisted your ankle or you got into a fender bender.  You're still happy underneath the superficial little sadnesses of daily life.  That's what I mean.

I don't have that feeling.  It's like I'm a house without a foundation.  My emotions are just thrown about in a pile with no support.  There's no base of happiness to work from.  I'm simply floating in a sea of indecision and depression.  I'm joyful one day and crushed the next.  Nothing is lasting anymore.  Everything is superficial.

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For the sake of my next discussion, think of love like a long cylinder of light winding through some kind of endless space.  Each tube represents one person's feelings of "love" for one other person.

I still don't presume to understand love.  I don't think it really means anything.  It seems so foolish to chose a single person as "the one" and discard your feelings for all others.  I don't think I'm a one person lover.  However, let's just pretend that I do indeed understand love for the sake of my examples.

We all start simply floating in this endless space.  As we get to know people we begin to have feelings for them.  Some are never more than friends, but a few could be.  As these feelings occur, we glide nearer to these cylinders of light.  Should we enter into some kind of relationship, we also enter into the cylinder of light corresponding to the other person.  Should we enter relationships with more than one person, then we exist in several cylinders at the same time.  Should we hurt someone upon getting out of a relationship, our self that exists in this space is injured by moving out of the corresponding cylinder.  If we cannot let go of the feelings associated with the relationship, we remain in its cylinder, feeling the pain until we can let go. Is the picture clear?

Currently my self is injured.  I gave myself a deep cut when I destroyed a young man's dreams back in freshman year.  I still haven't healed.  In addition, I exist in four separate cylinders.  One of them is a constant source of pain.  Before I came to college I existed in only one cylinder.  I had no wounds.  I had no pain.  Now my little pretend self is nearly destroyed.  I don't have many more mistakes that I can make before I cease to feel love.

I'll never again be without pain.  I'll never again feel the innocent happiness of devoting oneself completely to someone else.  I'll never again be whole, and it's all because I so deeply desired perfection that I nearly destroyed myself.  I am truly a failure.

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1:  Just tell me that I never had a chance.  Just tell me that I never will have a chance.  Then I could let you go.

2:  Stop making it harder for me to do what must be done.  You know it's coming so stop stalling it.  No matter what you do, there is always an end to anything.

3:  You are one of the few human beings I've ever known that is indeed more intelligent than me.  Should you ask for my body and mind, I would give them.  However, you must do the asking.

4:  Turkenaw!!  Call me and we'll watch Street Fighter and probably end up making out and regretting it later.

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So you think you're so funny with your "Secret Xanga" link??  I just checked it.  I didn't really believe you.  How dare you taunt me so.

So, just as suddenly as I can feel completely terrible and worthy of instant death (instant hell murder...phhffftt!) I can also feel amazingly happy and worthwhile.

I guess some gauge or other in my mind was been turned down or up or whatever and I have moved slightly closer to normal.  Small amounts of feeling for my male are returning.  I am not instantly annoyed anymore when I see his face.  I sort of want to talk to him again and like hugging him a little more.  Now, mind you, I certainly don't feel 100% in love with him again like I did previously, but I think I've turned a corner or whatever it is that people say.  We'll see.  I've been trying to get away from saying definite things lately, so let's just say that I'm hopeful that we will remain together in harmony into the future, but am still unsure that the situation will indeed occur.

I was very angry about work earlier in the week because my ultra boss, that is the boss of all my other bosses, came in and tried to help me while I was working with some samples that I had made.  Unfortunately for her, I had had a rather bad run of things mentally, as anyone who has read this blog knows, and I was very...shall we say disagreeable with her.  She, being female, instantly became offended and tried to put me in my place, where I should have gone apologetically.  However, my ego injured and my mood poor, I continued to argue with her, to which she responded that if I were to continue to work with her group I had better learn to NEVER argue with her again.  I turned away from her and went back to my work, disregarding the last comment.  If I had been in her place, I probably would have fired me right then and there.

Thankfully, she didn't and I finished my work for presenting today.  As it turns out, what I thought was a complete failure could save the entire world.  If I am correct about what is happening, then my new material may be able to reverse global warming's effects enough to return the earth's atmosphere to a normal level of carbon dioxide.  I hope my boss thought in her head at that moment that same thing I did, "Thank god I shut up when I did."

So, I guess things are going reasonably well all of a sudden.  However, because of the uncertainty that is an integral part of life, I am unsure of the duration of said "reasonably-wellness."  I hope it turns out to be more than a few days.  That would be a nice change for me.

Last night I went shopping (not the kind where I go with a bunch of girls and try on skirts for six hours) at the ol' mall and found some great buys.  On my way to the bookstore, I made sure to glance for the most beautiful Asian girl I have ever seen at the Lollicup place where she works, but she was hiding.  I was disappointed.  She is the perfect height, weight, and proportion.  Her hair is a nice length and her face is perfect.  She even has an amazing tiger tattoo that I admire and want to trace with my fingers.  Anyway, when I got to the bookstore I discovered that The Elegant Universe by Brian Greene was only $19.95 in hardcover.  I purchased it immediately.  It should be an amazing read, said to do the same thing for string theory that Steven Hawking did for black holes.  I then turned my attentions to the more pressing matter of finding my father a top hat for Father's Day.  No place in the mall had top hats.  I was disappointed.  I am going today to find one somewhere in Columbia and failing that I will have to figure something else out.   With this disappointment weighing on my mind I decided to drown my sorrows at EBGames.  To my amazement and surprise a sale table was set up containing both Diablo II and the Starcraft battlechest each for $9.99!  I was forced to leave these games at home considering they were actually my little brothers and he is currently building a crazy gaming computer from scratch to store every game he as ever played.  I would have felt cruel to deprive him of such classic games from his own collection.  So, I snatched the two treasures up and ran home to install them and bask in the glory of my triumph.  It was a good shopping day, and the first where I just went and bought stuff I wanted that I've had in a long time.  It was nice.

Anyway, I must go present on my new global warming avoidance material in a matter of minutes.  Figured I'd get an entry in before everything goes crazy busy for me.

I know it really shouldn't be that inspiring, since it is just a stupid
television show, but Scrubs makes me think.  Maybe it's because
the plots always involve like two or three different relationships.

Why is it that I'm suddenly so singular?  Why is it that I just
don't seem to have that much in common with any of the people I used
to?  Is it growing "up" or is it simply growing in some kind of
sideways fashion?  My interests seem to be so radically different.

My main worry is sex.  Now, I still stare blatantly at all Asian
girls.  I still look at porn.  I still watch hentai. 
Also, I started checking out every half decent male that crosses my
path.  However, the fact that I can get sex at any moment that I
want just by
suggesting that it should happen just doesn't make me happy
anymore.  I don't get turned on by thinking about it.  I
tried taking some sexy pictures of him with a skirt on and my little
pink see-through tank top on...but I really just had to force myself to
be turned on at all.  I've heard birth control can do it to you,
but again, I can't just blame everything on some stupid
medication.  I think the problem really just lies with the fact
that I'm not in love with him anymore.  I don't feel the same way
when he touches me, talks to me, looks at me, anything.  I just
want him to leave me alone most of the time.  He's like a really
heavy bag that I have to carry around everywhere, but that I can't put
down because it has something important in it that I haven't been able
to find in a while.

Another worry of mine is that all my friends seem to be warping into
things that I don't enjoy.  I don't have any strictly nerd
friends.  All of them have some kind of strange quirk, and not the
fun goofy kind.  I'm sick of not having anyone who I can just talk
to without feeling...awkward because they are so different from me...or
because they are radically less intelligent than me, and I don't mean
that I'm incredibly intelligent.  I'm just saying that sometimes I
wonder what the hell people are thinking when they say or do things.

Anyway, yeah, I've really just noticed a drop off of enjoyment during
pretty much all activities.  Actually...I take that back.  I
had a great time at Monique's the other night.  Her roommate Max
straightened my hair and then all three of us chatted and watched the
Dark Crystal.  I didn't feel awkward or stupid or annoyed will
talking to her and Max.  We talked about old movies, television
shows, video games and silly people we know.  It was so
nice.  I miss that feeling.  If they weren't going down to
the Lake of the Ozarks tomorrow then I would definitely request another
evening of enjoyment.

That brings up another problem.  I want to hang out with other
people more than him, a lot more than him.  Heck, right now he's
sitting around watching television and rather than be subject to his
presence I am posting on this stupid website.  I find that
unfortunate.  Monique invited me to go down to the Lake, and if I
didn't have both work and class, I would have absolutely accepted and
not invited him.  I'm really glad this weekend is a float trip
with my friends from high school to which him will not be going. 
It should be great...at least...if I can still actually hold a
conversation with my high school friends.

Why does everyone think drinking is soooo goddamn cool?  In fact,
what the hell makes everyone want to start smoking??  I'm about
tired of seeing old friends with cigs in their faces and beers in their
hands as they stagger about or in their facebook pictures.  Is
your life that crappy that you have to drink enough to forget most of
it?!  Really!?!  Or, is your life so crappy that you want to
drastically shorten it by sucking hot, tar filled smoke into your
lungs?!  Must be, because that's what you're doing, ya little
bitches.  I have no respect and no sympathy for you as you cough
and whine about your hangovers.  Shut the hell up and take the
pain that you've brought on yourself like a man (or woman,
respectively).  Do you think I come around your place whining
about how bad my relationship with my boyfriend is and about how much
pain it's causing me?  NO!  I just spill it on here where
people can choose to read it or completely ignore it.  I keep the
pain I bring myself TO MYSELF!!

Now, if you have a problem that you can't control or you are willing to
take someone's advice when it is given, then tell me about it. 
I'd love to help!  Helping makes me happy!  However, if you
don't want my advice or you don't want to hear the TRUTH, then don't
tell me!  I tell the truth!  It's kind of my thing.  So,
if you don't want to hear that you are stupid for smoking, then don't
whine about your cough.  Am I completely rude or is that fair?

Yeah.  I'm done ranting.  Sorry if you read all that hoping for some kind of better resolution to all of it.

They say ignorance is bliss.  I think they may be correct.

Why is it that knowledge, science, reason, and the truth can be so crushingly depressing?  Why is it that the more I know, the more I realize that I can never know everything, I can never know enough?  With each passing day as I plunge deeper into the world of a researcher I can feel my inner child slipping away.  I can feel that weight, that burden of understanding that there is nothing after this, there is no ultimate goal other than to further one's DNA into the next generation.  Life seems so magical when you are young and still learning.  Everything is new and amazing.  As things become old, understood...that amazement passes.  You realize that while there is nothing that you cannot do, there really isn't anything you CAN do to keep yourself from eventually dying.

I've been thinking about death a lot lately.  I don't suppose that's a good thing.  It's not that I want to die, it's just that I want to understand dying.  I want to know what it is that happens to your "soul" when you die.  I don't want to sound stupid, but if you just die and then there is nothing, then what is the purpose?  No one will remember you past one or maybe two generations if you do something really great.  Only your children and grandchildren will really benefit from your presence and who knows if your grandchildren will even take anything away from knowing you.  I suppose if you just want to pass on your physical characteristics then you don't have to worry and just have a bunch of children, but what I'm talking about is passing on knowledge.  Even if you teach hundreds of thousands of people everything you know, how long will that knowledge be passed on?

I feel like I've typed all this before, but I'm too lazy to check my old posts.  I'm sure I'll get a kick out of how lame and depressed I was for such a long time and how many times I tried to pretend I wasn't and how many stupid things I did to try and work it all out.  I'm sure one day I'll feel that happy magic again that I seem to have lost lately.

Mike...who I want desperately to get away from and who I regret moving in with...can't seem to let me go.  He seems to think that we are destined to be together and that I should go to the doctor and get some pills to make me happy again.  He thinks it's some kind of chemical imbalance that has me so down.  To that I respond, "If I have to take pills to be normal, then I would rather be crazy forever."  I just don't see the purpose of taking pills that make you happy.  If you are taking pills that make you happy, then how do you know when you are really happy and when it's just the pill?  If you are never sad, then how do you know the value of being happy?  I'll never stoop to that level, that dependence on things other than myself to fix my problems.

My mind wanders when I drive to and from work all alone in my car with my radio on.  It always wanders to Jason.  Every time I've ever wanted desperately to get to know someone, I've gotten that chance.  I've learned enough about them to place them into their category:  aquaintance, friend or lover.  Jason never gave me that chance.  I asked for it and he denied it.  He won't take my calls and he blocked me on AIM.  In a way I'm glad.  The alternative would have been the natural way, talking to him while he was hanging out at Mike's house, slowly building a relationship with him until he realized that we were compatible and we started making out or something, only to have Mike discover and hate both of us forever...or I could have just found out that he wasn't enjoyable and then just bailed on the both of them, leaving them to be best friends forever and no worse for the wear.  But...I think what I did was so much less sneaky and underhanded and I think the result will be better as well.  I told Mike how I felt.  I told him I wanted to get to know Jason and I told him I didn't feel the same way about him anymore.  I told him everything.  I told him the truth.  I told Jason the same.  Mike can't accept that I don't love him anymore and insists that we are still dating.  Jason can't accept that talking to me for about an hour would rid him of me forever if he turned out to be not nearly as interesting as I hope he is.  I can't accept failure, which this whole mess is turning out to be.

I've been "interviewing," shall we say, several other males as well, since I've already made the move to look around.  Ryan is an interesting little kitty cat.  Unfortunately he fails two of my tests:  he's religious and he loves debate.  I'd make out with him once or twice, however, given the oppurtunity as he is rather attractive, but he would get nothing more from me.  Then there are a number of random males on facebook that I've been stalking.  I like to do searches for single males with interesting entries into their little explanation boxes.  When I find one that's attractive and interesting or that hides his profile, I send him a message.  It's been interesting so far.  I found another Dr. House Jr. that I might go chasing.  I don't know, though...  All this searching for "love" has made me pretty sick of it.  I sort of just want to go find a random male who's just sitting around somewhere and make out with him for a couple of minutes only to walk away without a word, or I just want to walk up and start a conversation out of the blue without any introductions or suggestions of reasoning.  I guess instead of loving people I really just want to learn about them.  I want to study a large number of males and make a big chart.  I could make it into some kind of experiment in which I interview hundreds of males and draw up a phase diagram of their characteristics.  Perhaps upon finding that some characteristics are almost unseen, I would remember why it was that I wanted to be with Mike in the first place.

Maybe he is right.  Maybe we were destined to be together.  But you know...if we were, then why the hell am I feeling so completely uninterested in being around him?  That's the ultimate question I've been asking myself.  Do I even care about Jason in the least or is he just the quickest way to completely alienate Mike?  Is Jason just an excuse to break up with Mike?  I find it really irritating that I have to try and analyse myself when I'm the only one that can hear MY GODDAMN THOUGHTS!!!!  *angsty sigh*  I'm sure this business will be over in a couple of months, six at most, and then I can get on with my life.  Like I said, I'm sure when I'm like 30ish I'll look back on these sad little entries about pointless shit and laugh at how silly I was.

Just so no one thinks I'm actually all that sad, everything but my relationships is going great.  Good job, healthy family (except for my crazy grandma), good outlook on the future, new car, new apartment, plenty of good times with friends, enjoyable goals, fun hobbies, I've pretty much got it all right now.  The only thing I'm missing is that special someone, so really I'm doing awesome.  I swearz!  Don't let my angsty stupid confusion over my own feelings about love and reproduction get you confused.

By the way, if you were wondering why I didn't mention stalking any girls, it's because I don't want to jinx it.  ;D

Meh.

So the ol' J-O-B has been pretty enjoyable as of late.  I think I
may be able to publish a paper on my findings soon and actually get
some credit for it even though I'm just a little undergraduate. 
That's one nice thing about the group I'm with:  if you give the
effort you get the credit.  I think that's kind of uncommon in
most research positions at universities, leastwise that's what I've
heard.

Chemistry is pretty sweet.  Just throwing that out there. 
Everything in today's world is in some way effected by chemical
processes.  Regardless of the practical side of it, it's also
pretty amazing to think about how chemical reactions actually work, how
all those tiny little structures interact with each other in ways that
allow for so many of the things we need every day to be created.

Now that I'm on the subject, existence is a pretty awesome deal as
well.  When you think about all the things that must be exactly as
they are for the Earth to continue on as it is and sustain life as it
does...yeah, it's pretty amazing.  Breathing, walking, especially
thinking...wow...it's just pretty cool.

I'm a bit worried that I'm squandering my existence, amazing as it
is.  I'm trying to fix it, though.  I'm going to start taking
Karate again in the Fall and I've been trying to work out and eat
better.  I've been working on my tailoring skillz and creating my
Felicia costume for Halloween (Yes I realize that I plan pretty far
ahead, but it's a slow process making a costume from scratch.) and it's
been pretty satisfying thus far.  I'm also saving up a bit of cash
to buy myself some o' that Robert Heinlein that I love so much and
maybe a couple of books on string theory.  I'm not going to be one
of those useless kids who doesn't understand anything about the world
and just gets some dead end job to support some children who will grow
up to do the same thing.  I want to acquire some information that
is worth passing on.  I want to be able to instill a love for
intelligence in my offspring.  I want to be worth having a
conversation with.  I want to do something worthwhile with my life
and make other people's lives better in the process.  I want to
find others with the same hopes for themselves.  I am excited.

First of all, Pirates of the Caribbean:  At World's End was a pretty big disappointment.  I won't go into it because I don't feel too strongly about movies usually.  Plus, I couldn't write anything better and I definitely couldn't visually produce something so fantastically amazing to look at, so I really can't complain.  I give it a 6 on a scale of 10.

It's funny how things that you wouldn't expect can reinforce your belief in yourself.

My neighbor and good friend Adam's birthday is today.  He threw a party yesterday to celebrate.  The only alcohol I had ever had in my entire life was half of a wine cooler on a float trip back in 2005.  I'd never been in a room with so much alcohol.  I'd never seen anyone under the age of 40 drunk.  It was an interesting experience.  I guess I can now say that I've been to a "party" and understand what they entail.  The nice thing, however, was that no one at the party said that I had to drink.  People offered to mix me drinks and make me virgin stuff.  I had a couple mixed drinks and found them less enjoyable than those without liquor.  I found out I really, REALLY don't like White Russians.  I believe I got what the kids nowadays term "buzzed" but it mostly just felt like I was really sleepy and somehow made me incredibly good at Pop 5.  It also made me worse at Liar's Dice. 

Overall, I think drinking isn't for me and it was nice to have such a great oppurtunity to find out.  I mean, a party in the room down the hall from my own makes me feel pretty safe.  I knew I could have gotten completely smashed and been fine, even if I passed out.  I just didn't.  Not for me.  I would definitely go to another party where people I know are wasted, but I don't think I'll ever drink more than a couple of girly drinks.

So yeah, my point with all that was that the fact that everyone accepted that I didn't want to drink much or get drunk made me feel more confident that it was the correct choice for me.  I always kind of thought that people would always consider you lame if you didn't drink at their party, but I found that people actually had quite a bit of fun having a non-drunk kid around.  It was fun arguing with Adam and Paul about whether or not they were drunk as they spilled their drinks on themselves while talking and then laughed because they forgot what they were arguing with me about.  Those kids and their Patron.

Anyway, Jared did a tarot card ready for me at one point during the night and it was pretty cool.  It really seemed to correctly identify all the things that I've been thinking about and working through.  The main things I took away from the reading are that I really need to believe in my own ability to succeed more and that I should follow my own lead and not worry about everyone else like I have been since I started college.  I'm also going to work on improving myself by reading books that I've wanted to as well as working out a lot to get my body back into shape.  In summary, the reading really helped to pinpoint things that I think I already knew but just needed to really think about for a second.  I like tarot cards.  I should bring mine to my apartment.  They are pretty fun.

I got a raise at work for my preformance at the last group presentation meeting.  Now I will be getting paid $9 per hour.  Still, it's not an amazing amount of money by any means, but it will be nice to have the extra money that I wasn't expecting.  I'm happy.

Well, that's news for me.  I guess yesterday was a really nice growing experience for me.  I now know what people mean when they say "drunk" and "party" and all that.  I know it might sound silly to a lot of people but it was a big step for me.  I feel sort of proud.

I'm not one to react to internet crap where you have to reply to 15 people in 15 minutes or your wildest dreams will never come true or any of that garbage, but by chance I visited another xanga and found myself tagged to talk about my top six turn ons.  Since I love talking about turn ons, here goes:

1.  Outward attractiveness:  This may seem like a silly number one as it is very shallow, but if we go in chronological order rather than biggest turn on order, this one is the most important.  You must be attractive to me before I persue a conversation with you.  For males, this means you must:  be skinny, be pale, not have red hair, have broad shoulders and a tiny waste, be hairless on the portion of your body visible in public at least, and have an interesting face.  For females, this means you must:  be skinny, have sizable breasts, not be fake-baked, have black or brown hair, and either be Asian or have an Asianish or interesting face.  Meeting these requirements means that I am probably starring at you and thinking about talking to you, especially if you are sitting all alone in a place like Panera Bread.

2.  Nerdiness:  The instant I start talking to someone and they bring up something nerdy that I remember from my childhood or from fun times past is the instant I am turned on by them.  If they pass the first test, which they should if I am talking to them, finding out that they also love [insert nerdy topic here] often makes me wet.  I can't help it.  Also, outwardly admiting after a short conversation that you do indeed have a huge porn stash on your computer, especially if you are female, drives me crazy.  If hentai comes up as one of your interests you might as well take me back to your place because you just passed the make-out test.

3.  Naked and still attractive:  If you pass the first two turn on tests, this test is sure to come soon.  For males, if they are indeed completely hairless on their chest and back and have at least resonably sized penises, I find them attractive while naked.  For females, as long as they don't for some reason look horrible naked or have tiny breasts suddenly, I'm fine.  Seeing someone naked up close for the first time always makes me insanely wet and subsequent naked times are just as big of turn ons.

4.  Matching fetishes:  I love it when someone has the same sexual fetishes as me or at least ones that compliment mine.  For example, I love to dominate.  I need someone who is very permissive and who likes to be treated like a slave during sex.  I also like penetration.  I need males to allow me to use toys to penetrate them from behind.  When I find out my fetishes are shared by another person, especially if we are just talking about it I get incredibly turned on.  If I find out during sex, I've been known to cum without any actual touching of my vagina when I start penetrating someone or putting someone in bondage.

5.  Unattainable sexual fantasies:  For some reason I love to think about things I can't have.  It can really get me going.  A prime example is the show House.  I would have sex with Dr. House in a moment.  However, he is a fake character and I can't.  Because of this, thinking about it is an insanely amazing turn on.

6.  Sudden twists of fate:  I don't think anything on this entire earth turns me on more than a sudden twist of fate in a sexual sense.  Say I'm chatting with a new friend at a coffee shop.  He/she suggests we go do something fun at his/her apartment.  I agree.  When we get there, we play some video games and all that, but suddenly start making out.  An unexpected twist of fate like that probably gets me wetter even than fetishes.  I've been known to cum without touching if someone suddenly holds me close and kisses me when I wasn't expecting it.

There, that's the list.  The last two aren't related to the first four.  These are the main things that turn me on.  There are other things, but these are the most effective things.

Well, I realized I don't really care if people I know read my blog.  I post the truth about how I'm feeling.  If someone finds it and wants to read it, well, more power to them I guess.

I wanted to say something insightful.  I wanted to say something beautiful.  Unfortunately, I'm no philosopher.