Sleep: it�s all about spinning down
2003-07-05 - 1:18 p.m.
June5. �i find myself sitting sometimes, with my eyes closed, thinking: shh�shh�� -Mitch
June4. Mitch and Mike went to another physics-major party while i went to work. Beth, the boss, picked me up and drove me to work because my car had busted down in the heat. it was extremely dead all night, but Karen (another fellow employee) and i got out early, so it�s all good. walked back home after leaving a message on Mitch�s machine, and it just so happened i got back five minutes after he left to find me. his car died between my workplace and the apartment, several miles from nowhere, and he ran back, thinking that a cop was going to find it and take his baby away (it being unregistered and uninspected).
June3. i crashed the blew up the gasoline-pump computer today, made several messes of ice cream, and generally, did things Tim instructed me specifically not to do. it�s been a rather average day at work, and thus, because this implies that working has become a part of my reality/life, i will refrain from mentioning work quite so much *here*.
Definition. sexy: oh-the-fun-i-would-have-with-that-if-i-had-one (the potential of fun of a something, quantified and distorted to fit the distorted reality of one that sits at a bar and sees something he wants, but is not willing to reach out of his bubble and get it for himself.) constantly, i see people (myself included) that are just waiting for something/someone to fall into their lap. well, what happens if someone falls on you arm, what are you supposed to do then? and what�s the difference between something falling on you, and the same thing simply falling?
June2. stopped a teenage motorcyclist today, who was planning on stealing 3.00 in gasoline. gas stations seem to all have this problem, and i�ve taken it upon myself to do my part and make sure that we retain a lot of the money we�re supposed to have. the money i spend all day working hard for. talked to the kid for a bit, laughed and carried on about cars and bikes and outrunning cops, and laughed and carried on in a way that convinced me the kid would pay for gas next time. a man came in and payed with a 100.00$ bill, complained that i only gave him 61$ back when i owed him 81$. there�s the possibility that he may have been right, and the possibility that i may have lost 20$ of the store�s money. i am, altogether, farr to trusting of a person.
Revelation: some days [in reality] just plain suck. but if you don�t let it get you down, you�ll be smiling before your sift lets out.
June1. supposed to move into my apartment today�but just don�t have the money�maybe next month?
June30. got my first paycheck for the second time, and used it to used to buy Mitch one of those balsa wood some-assembly-required planes. Mike, Mitch and i celebrated this occurrence of money by playing pool at RPI, looting Ran(Mike�s ex-girlfriend)�s house, and eating out chinese, on me.
here�s an interesting brain-teaser. consider an object, of variable size (anything from a planet to an electron) that has a completely textureless surface. the object is spinning (not necessarily on a single axis) and because it is textureless, you can not measure the angular momentum by looking at it. how do you a) prove that the object has angular momentum, and b)measure the angular momentum, and if you think you�re really hot shit c) do it only using other similarly textureless objects, and for all the abstract minds out there d) consider that the objects aren�t really objects, but gausian curves that represent the likelihood for an object to be in a given position at a given time.
June29. i bought a one-way trip to reality tonight.
Extended Related Sidenote: backup for a second, to when i got out of work at 11:30. raced a little eclipse-like car on the way home, but limited myself to a certain range of over-the-speed-limit, in the hopes that this self-restriction would make me a more responsible person. i never really got close to hitting anything, but my tires did squeal around a corner (because i had limited myself to a certain upper limit, but had forgotten to establish a lower adjustment to the cap due to corners, and so simply didn�t slow down to take them), and i lost the race because i figured it wasn�t worth it�i�ve failed my first race-thing because i wanted to be more secure in reality, but this in no way means that i am a responsible person. if anything, i�m worse now, for trying to sneak around being responsible by increasing my chance-o�-injury-and-death. fast forward twenty minutes to Mitch and i going out to a movie (28 days, zombie flick). might have lost my wallet-thing when i jumped over the row of chairs in front of the handicapped seating. coming out of the theatre, i nearly got us killed in the parkinglot (along with an uncounted number of other teenager-types), because i was going forty in a ten around an s-shaped sharp corner, at which point Mitch slapped me several times and he drove home. might have lost my wallet-thing when i stepped out of the car. after several mutual spurts of angry semi-psychotic moments, we got back home to the realization that i had left the oven on�my ham was reduced to char, but i�m glad the house didn�t burn down. regardless where i lost my wallet-thing (in actuality, the plastic case the BMW dealership gave me my key in), i�ve managed, once again, to loose all of my identity. credit cards, social security card, diploma, license, even my advantage card for PriceChoppers. I am not now, legally myself, having nothing that proves myself and I are the same person, or that that person is me. i thought for a while that, as a culture, we put too much emphasis of official pieces of paper, but it really does mean something, the paper does represent something that is real. my bill of sale, insurance, and registration for jade, for example, these are just pieces of paper. but the meaning behind them is much stronger�this means that i no longer own my baby. one number wrong on a matchbook and she calls someone else, lookin� for �hotel lovin�, and you never know why she didn�t call you back, so you write hostel instead of hotel on the next one, and still don�t get any calls back, and wonder further into the sunset of oblivion. the more i think about it, the more i realize that papers have always been important to me, as a writer and a long-term role-player. I still have no concept for the value of money�I just know I don�t have any of it.
June28. oh, we�re singin� the physics blues�first we picked up Tanika, one of the girls that works with Mitch in nanotech research at RPI, and then headed down a couple streets to an apartment half-filled with physics majors. there was singing and guitaring, because Mitch brought his instrument and doesn�t drink, and Tanika had a few drinks to relax and have fun. i would like to take a moment to separate this �to relax and have fun� mentality from the �to socialize and maybe get laid� mentality, expressed by another girl at the party, whose name Mitch and i soon forgot. Tanika drank too much and spent the second part of the night curled up on the couch. I drank a little, to try to get to her level, but couldn�t catch up, and really didn�t want to. our host, a superb specimen of the Indain-male species, was rather stuck up and insulting everyone in their own, personal and individual way.
June27. mitch and i worked on a song tonight, based on five-minute lyrics written in an e-mail to Becca. it�s called �anniversary of the death of love�, and most resembles a monotone and bland version of Stephen Lynch. it turned out pretty good, i�ve just got to throw some more substance into it, draw it out a little longer with some more verse-stuff. afterwards, half-past-midnightish, Mitch pointed out that i am very likely tone deaf. flashbacks of not being able to play the recorder in elementary school�
June26. two cute little black kids came in today, and the girl used a coupon to buy an ice cream. when i asked her brother what he wanted, he says he ain�t got no money�asked him if he did have money, what kind of ice cream he would want�small chocolate. a simple, humble answer.
i am a whore of the service industry. i might not be all compassionate about what other people are feeling, or what they did after tying their shoes in the morning, but i think that some things just need to be done for people, when they can�t do them very well themselves. i get enjoyment out of this, but not the sort of enjoyment one gets from �helping people��more like an enjoyment from acting out my own philosophies/beliefs. like an innate sense of truth. and there�s always some process of learning, in the way that the service is given, that implies that the person is in a better position afterward.
i used to have an email account at [email protected], but when i got my new account at hotmail, i left the account for spam. i can still acces it, so it is a valid account, but it�s always full, so for every bit of mail that spammers send me, they (theoretically) get a mailer demon back saying that my account will not hold any more spam. i opened this account a short time ago, and found it appalling/funny what these people will do to get you to open the mail. the thing that seems to get me most are the ones that are from my own email account. yea, tricky annonymailing bastards. next up are the partially randomly generated subjects (or someone forgot their ascii codes), and finally, the odd type of �hey buddy, remember me, i�m that guy you never knew was your buddy, and i want to show you something!� now, before i list these off, i want to get one thing straight: this is not an effective or moral form of advertisement. if you saw any guy on the streets of boston, and he pretended to be some long-lost best friend of yours that you know you never had, he looses lots of points. get out of the situation very quickly or shoot him before you get the fuck beat out of you. and maybe that�s the approach they�re looking for�power advertisement (as opposed to power politics). but really, you shouldn�t have to try quite so hard to sell sex to the post-modern/Freudian culture (i say this because most of the spam i get seems to come from sex-sites). the list follows: [from subject (advertisement for)]
Sharon P. �better than saturday morning� (toon sex)
Notice of Distribution... �Your Shipment Status� (John Deere)
Alexis Murphy �Did you lose it?� (penis enlargement)
Life Providers �Get the Life Insurance your love ones deserve...� (life insurance*)
Andrew Smith �Tech Ticket� (sex-oriented matchmaking)
Andrew �As hard as possible�� (�approved #1 rape site of the month�)
Research Director �ATTN: Comedy TV Show Survey -- Win Prizes...� (NBC)
Stan Chung �You left your umbrella� (viagra)
*the idea that if you die, your family role can be adequately substituted by a sum of money provided by a corporation. and if for whatever reason you don�t die soon enough, you end up paying a corporation for that time (which you will likely spend at work, not with your family, because you need to make money to get this �deal�).
