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| Time: | 11:02 pm. |
| Music: | This Providence - Certain Words in Uncertain Times. |
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There’s gotta be something the fuck wrong with me.
More specifically my body. What’s going on, immune system? Let’s have a talk. You and I. Just the two of us. You need to tell me what’s up. You’re embarrassing me when I bitch and moan that I physically feel like I have a broken bottle lodged in the back of my throat or like I’m swallowing knives every time I send some saliva down the old esophagus. Seriously, man. Urgent care? Come on. Seriously. Come on. I can think of about six things better to do on a Friday night right now. If I had more time to seriously compile a list, I’m guesstimating I could roughly think of eleven things better to do on a Friday night.
Fun facts about my visit to urgent care:
1) My doctor’s name was Agnes!
2) I got a blood test taken! (I have a huge phobia of blood tests/veins. Needless to say I wasn’t completely cooperative.)
3) I got a medical band that says Hollister! (It’s a medical company. The fashionable clothes company you’re probably thinking of doesn’t sport sick kids with diabetes or leukemia yet. Their loss. There are dollars to be made off exploiting serious illnesses. Imagine what leukemia jeans would look like. Yeah. You’d wear that shit all over So Cal.)
4) I tested negative for mono!
So the real diagnosis here is basically I’m a huge girl. Got a purse. Some high heels. Some lipstick. Got a mouth always open and running about how I need Tylenol or Advil all the time. I got all that shit. Call me Stacy. Right now.
The alternative diagnosis my mom provided on the car ride home…
MOM: “It could be a virus that they’ve just never discovered. Hopefully it’s nothing serious.”
(radio playing)
ME: “… What?”
Fuck training, man. That’s probably the real reason why my body’s freaking out right now. Tomorrow is the last day I’ll have to drive out to the dirty/oddly not so ghetto corner of Mesa and attend another miserable eight hour day of cashier training. Tomorrow will be all right, I guess. Our trainer, this dude Rob, he’s a pretty amiable dude. It’s easy to get by, but I’ve been feeling way sick and that’s definitely not pulling any big assists for me in the mean time. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind getting paid for playing produce bingo or anything. That’s all fine and good. I’ve just had my fill. Really, understand, it’s not that I find it miserable working with the quiet gay Mexican kid Jesse, the pack of Mexican girls who even though I don’t know their names I know they all have either a) a husband, b) some kids that are in Seaworld cause they hate to hear them cry or something, or c) a tattoo of their husband’s name. The other kids are quiet and love drug references about popping pills at work and have passwords like ‘420’ to sign into the cash register or are from Tennessee and talk way too fucking much because they’re in the high school band and that always automatically makes you kind of blow. Sorry - but we all know that.
By the way, I love to act. Theatre Company!
Well, tomorrow morning is incidentally the big produce test. I need to correctly identify the codes to 21/50 produce items, otherwise I’ll be repeating my third day of training in the not so far off future. I vowed never to go there again after tomorrow. That fucking Mesa Fry’s. I’m not too worried because Rob tells me he’s never failed anyone yet. Come on. Mesa’s best & brightest. Rise and be stars. Also tomorrow I’ll be checking out real customers for the first time at the register; hilarious because I don’t know how to use the computer at all and I’m a cashier. Go me!
I had to turn down an invite tonight to see Willy Wonka with a pretty girl I’m recently finding myself around more and more on the count of my throat and my training tomorrow. Come on life - let’s see if I can’t find any other trivial things to ruin girls for me.
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I have a handful of people in my life I refuse to let down.
And the others, well, sorry. That’s just me being me, and I’m kind of impressed you liked me as a person in the first place; cause even considering I can be polite and genuine a lot of the time, I let more of my friends down on a weekly basis than some other kind of simile for a person who lets a lot of his friends down on a weekly basis. Whatever. Fuck the haters. My world consists of an immediate circle of friends and little else. So if you don’t smoke weed, don’t drink to the state of absolute belligerence, or buy me lunch sometime, I probably think you’re just okay. Don’t take it the wrong way. You’re great in actuality. I’m sure. But speaking on behalf of what my general interests are, I pick and choose my immediate company solely based upon that, and if that means I don’t see a whole lot of you in the course of all of my days, that’s the nature of my sketchiness. You’ve witnessed first hand. So get yourself a glass of water if that’s hard to swallow because I’m a bastard, a liar, a jerk and everything else derogatory under the sun you need to call me to make yourself feel better.
Relax. I’m only kind of kidding.
What will help you to consider is that most of my creative sentiment derives from bands that hate girls and write hooks to cryptically send the message that these girls are worthless. I just like to apply the same principles sometimes when I’m using some of my spare time to write a post. I also listen to Sinatra, though. What a voice.
Sorry for being so touchy, I just can’t even begin to take you seriously.
Don’t feel obliged to comment. You have no idea what specifically I’m ranting about, and that’s understandably awkward. If you really feel pressed to say something, just tell me how you yourself are feeling.
Everybody having a great day or what?
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| Time: | 4:38 am. |
| Music: | Motion City Soundtrack - Time Turned Fragile. |
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Things balance out better than I have the conscious effort to do on my own time, so why the hell would you hear me complain?
I passed my drug test. Training week will blow. I’m meeting new and compulsive strangers. I’m keeping myself moving in the early stages of afternoon. I’m losing. I’m gaining. I don’t fucking care about the things that are out of my hand. I’m not about that.
There are a handful of people reading this that know what I mean. I love writing cause of those few people. It’s like we have some kind of stupid club where just by running our mouths we can rationalize anything. And we almost can. I’m very much okay with that.
Tonight, I was described as being funny on the part of being a ‘casual asshole’. I’m just glad I could deliver. As long as I provide.
I appreciate these summer binges. They make you feel small and hardly overwhelmed, and that’s a relief from the school year. I can’t believe months ago I was worried about numbers and percents. I can’t believe months from now I will be again at a university.
I’m still dancing around the idea of burning bridges and I keep riding this summer thing just to see what it does. It fills up my days.
It’s Jack’s birthday.
Wahoo!
I only wish him half a birthday cause he shouted at me drunkenly for trying to play a song on my iPod for Danny.
Dick.
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Thursday, June 23rd, 2005
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| Time: | 4:32 am. |
| Music: | Charley the cat shouting at 4:32 am. |
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And the result is...
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| Time: | 4:24 am. |
| Music: | Coldplay - Fix You. |
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The more you don’t sleep the more you think of the words that you want to say to people but can’t manage to grab onto. Apparently, if you’re me.
Not that any of them are that key. I just think a lot and find new and inventive ways to be socially awkward.
Come Tuesday, I decided I should definitely just walk into Fry’s and say, “so, did I get hired?”. I’ll receive one of two replies.
A) “No. You do drugs.”
B) “Yeah. Here’s your apron.”
And if I get hired I want to be charming and fantastic – I want to wear a tie when I tell people how much they saved with their V.I.P. cards. So if you have any left over birthday wishes or have any to spare, help me out. I’ll save you some cash.
I fall into acceptance. There’s only one real thing under the sun that I actually want to invest my life into – entertaining people. Comedy is where it’s at.
Fuck. It’s not even a choice. It’s cause of all those car rides when my family humored me when I was the silly kid. When I’d talk like I was Jamaican and be flamboyant and raise reasonable suspicion about my sexual orientation. You guys gave me confidence, so I shut up in return. Thanks.
I really miss working the crowd; I’ve got to get it back.
It’s four in the morning and I want to be with a pretty girl and watch the sun come up in a car sitting inside an abandoned parking lot or hide out on the golf course. That would be choice. That probably makes me a little stranger than some kids, but I’ll take the notoriety in stride.
Just like this summer.
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Thursday, June 16th, 2005
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First hard lesson learned with drugs…
The interview went well. I was charming. I was polite. I was everything a corporation would adhere a name tag to. With one slight exception…
“Now what this is, it’s an oral applicator. We’ll send this to LabOne and they’ll give me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on if I can hire you.”
An on-the-spot drug test.
Convenient, considering if you had the power of time travel, you could journey back less than 48 hours and see me giggling to Batman Begins under the influence of marijuana.
Let’s keep our fingers crossed LabOne employs a bunch of incompetent, autistic, or even mildly retarded chemists. But let’s not hold our breath, cause I find out ‘yes’ or ‘no’ by Tuesday and our faces will undoubtedly turn a real ugly shade of blue in that span of time.
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| Time: | 3:31 am. |
| Music: | The Starting Line - Autography. |
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I’m restless.
Not in terms of my soul, my conscience, or what have you, etc…
I just can’t fucking fall asleep.
I don’t even begin to understand why every time I turn the bolt on the front door to the house and I’m ready to drop that I hit some kind of second wind. I don’t keep ridiculous enough hours for that to be the immediate culprit to the sad situation I’ve had on my hands the past few nights.
You can’t fall asleep when your brain is swimming.
You just can’t.
The radio buzzing off the walls at 11:50 am. The interview tomorrow. The closet wardrobe and the potential candidates. The words I should address and watch myself avoid on a day to day basis.
When I was little, I could fold my comforter in half and regardless of what was underneath it, I could sleep like that. Hot dog style, respectively. Not sure of the allure, but psychologically, this and having the television on at all times remain my most loyal outlets of passing out. But it isn’t helping tonight.
3:22 am really isn’t helping tonight.
Long days loom on respective sides of the bed.
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| Time: | 2:56 am. |
| Music: | Circa Survive - I've Been Trying to Reach You. |
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I had a few realizations as of late…
- Summer is depressing because of the lack of contact and communication between all your friends.
- Summer doesn’t have to be depressing if you realize this early on.
- Applying for a job is degrading and feels draining towards your integrity.
- Bob Marley + late night drive home + under the same old circumstances = love.
- I fucking own at surfing in the pool. Challenge me. I’ve got money on it.
- Anthony Green has captured my heart till the end of all things.
- Court TV is flawless.
- Fox News is a funny jab at conservative mother fuckers.
- I have no idea what the hell is going on in Trainspotting, my current read.
- The guy who works at the House of Fitness probably has a crush on me.
- If I actually get hired at Kitchen & Things at the Chandler mall, then wow.
- Routine is the enemy.
- My sleeping pattern is absolutely miserable.
- The Disney channel somehow puts me in a good mood, whether in terms of the optimism, or the fact that it’s fucking unrealistically ridiculous and awesome.
- I don’t really miss it. Lucky girl.
- I’m only good at beer pong with cousins.
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| Time: | 5:32 pm. |
| Music: | The Game - No More Fun & Games. |
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Once upon a time, there was a poor family of four; a mother, a daughter, and two sons. They lived high up in the hills in the land of 'Ahwatukee'. For several years, they lived a happy life together. Some time passed and the daughter traveled to the far off land of 'Yuma', where she met a burly knight by the name of 'Steve'. Their love was eternal and good. To commemorate their vows to each other, a wedding was in order. It truly was an occasion of merriment and splendor.
All through the land, the people were abuzz with the joyous news.
DID YOU HEAR? DID YOU HEAR? PAMELA AND STEVE ARE TO BE WED ON THIS DAY OF JUNE!
NO! I DIDN'T HEAR. THIS NEWS IS MUSIC TO MY EARS.
HEY, ISN'T STEVE FROM YUMA?
WHY, HE CERTAINLY IS.
The people were swelling with excitement for the lad of Yuma and the lady of Ahwatukee to spread their wings and let love fly. All the people got their best coats, hats and dresses for a night on the town. Drawn by horse carriage, they arrived to the event.
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| Time: | 2:27 pm. |
| Music: | Saves The Day - Third Engine. |
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I write a lot of great posts in my brain.
Hours before I have the ability to transmute them to anything physical or visual. So when I come back later and sit down here, I’m drawing blanks from my memory. All the solid lines, all the great elaborations, all the convincing arguments – they flounder. After that, we’re likely to be in the same boat again, where the both of us only sort of know what I’m talking about.
People tell me a lot of things. Generally, I’m in one ear out the other because if I don’t recognize the face then I can only be so interested in the speaker. The other day at the dentist, I went on an oral journey of self-discovery with my dentist.
That sounds pretty horrible…
My dentist explained to me that a long time ago, somewhere in my family tree, a big Russian man and a little woman got together and after years and years, behold: there was my jaw structure. So I guess I owe my “class three overbite” to a mix of equal parties – big Russian man and little woman. Thanks a lot, you two. I’d send you a card, but then I remember how you’re dead and everything. Definitely a snag.
As of lately, my world is a lot of beer, flowin’ with Trevor, swimming pools, Fox News and neglected alarm clocks. I won’t lie to you: I probably couldn’t choose a better way to start the summer if I had to. Meaning, under the very rare circumstance that someone put a gun to my head, put paper and pen in front of me and screamed, “ALL RIGHT MOTHER FUCKER, TELL ME A BETTER WAY TO START A SUMMER”, I’d probably be wearing a bullet.
This summer is going to be a beautiful mess of good ideas and bad ideas; I’ve already got a few of each.
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Wednesday, May 25th, 2005
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| Time: | 10:06 am. |
| Music: | Get Up Kids - Forgive And Forget. |
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I have a lot of words just swimming around inside my head.
But I can’t for the life of me catch the right ones. Considering the place in time, nothing sounds perfectly appropriate or fitting and instead, I’m deduced to merely describing the big picture long-form. That’ll have to do, because I certainly don’t know how to feel.
In the next twelve hours, I’ll be holding my diploma and officially be leaving my high school forever. And I figured out the other day that I’ve been lying to myself: I really am scared as hell. Which scares me even more.
Fuck that.
I’m emotionally equipped to handle anything.
Hardly anything even fazes me.
If it’s my signature self-defense mechanism that I can’t take anything seriously, why isn’t it working?
I don’t like thinking about the future, and ironically, that’s what I think about most. I don’t care what people think; if I should end up being considered a success or what. I have to get myself there, nobody else. And this time I really am scared.
And all of the things and people that I’m leaving behind, there’s always summer. So let’s put that into effect. I’m excited to see the little kids that I love grow up whenever I find my way back to those halls; more excited than I am to witness myself go through the same process. I don’t know if that can be considered a good or bad thing, one way or the other. Just know that as sketchy as I am and hard to communicate with, I honestly do love the hell out of you kids. Consider this me hanging up my hat.
And now, I’m waiting.
All good things have endings.
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| Time: | 12:39 pm. |
| Music: | Ben Kweller - In Other Words. |
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You caught me at a strange time, world.
The closer the clock moved to 2:40 pm yesterday afternoon, something new came over me. I think it finally sunk in that I wasn’t coming back to this place anymore for the sake of an education or for a grade. No more academic labs. No more block scheduling. No more MPTC. No more a lot of things. Up until this week I’d been pretty impressed with myself for getting to the point where I seriously need to consider college is just a few months in the future. Now I think I’m just scared – but in the good way.
Walking out of school yesterday and to the parking lot, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. I said goodbye to a couple friends and just naturally headed back to my car. It was different pulling out that day. I can’t really put it in words. It kind of cut me deep and exhilarated me at the same time.
Times change, and so do people. This is the first summer I’ve had to myself in years and I promised myself that if I ever had one of those again, I’d take full advantage of my situation. Day to day, I need to have something going on or something I can just sink into. Even though I’m a little older, a little wiser and finished with my senior year, the little kid inside me just wants to wake up for the Price is Right as much as possible and anticipate the monsoon season. It’s scary to consciously know you’re changing so much, I know I’ve gotten to a very pivotal point in my days.
What I’m primarily concerned with now is just being a good person all around. I have plenty enough people around to tell me I already am, and I appreciate the fact that they think so, but I guess I’m really out to prove it to myself. There’s plenty of areas in my life that are less than what they should or could be, so I figured now is as good a time as any to work out a little reformation. Turning the other cheek is never easy, especially for somebody like me, but now I see I’m old enough to know that having a temper is just too little kid for me. If I’m still going to be regarded as a twelve year old on sight, then I at least have to wage some kind of war verbally.
There’s a lot of room for growth.
I anticipate college on the grounds that I’m sick of feeling lonely as much as I have this year. I don’t intend that to be in the context of morbid and depressing or pessimistic in the least, it’s just I’ve learned the word lonely at this point in life takes on a lot of definitions, shapes and forms. Above all, I just want something real.
Oh, and Sam? I’m real sorry. Keep your head up.
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| Time: | 1:51 am. |
| Music: | Damien Rice - Cold Water. |
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You love things a lot more when time reminds you that it's slowly ripping them away from you; so I've found.
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I feel more than a little out of step.
Maybe on the account that I just got locked out of my car with the keys left in the ignition and don’t know where a spare key is. Maybe on the account that my last day working at Shabu Fondue was basically just fifteen minutes long and ended with me explaining to my manager why I thought I was justified to walk out last night. Maybe on the account of the good portion of my Saturday night that was spent being lectured by the bartenders at Shabu Fondue for walking out of work when I happened to see them both later at a relatively low-key party that they somehow appeared to.
I don’t know what to do with myself anymore than you do.
I had to present Casey Lima last night, to introduce him for the presentation of the Coat. And this is something that I didn’t want to explain to Kevin the bartender, who was managing that night, because in my mind, I really honestly didn’t think that I could get his approval when I told him I needed to leave work early to make it over to school to do this. I'd have to explain the Coat, and it's importance and everything, and to anyone not involved with it, seriously, why the fuck should they care? You could just say Kevin really isn’t the theatre type. Anyway, I resolved to runaway from work last night with enough time to spare to get over to the school and get Casey ready to present; and I did that. It was worth it, it was worth doing what was essentially expected of me to leave work. It was just too bad I had to see Kevin the bartender later.
This isn’t word for word, but a fantastic generalization… And this one just the first of many ‘responsibility’ conversations I’d be having with Kevin that evening.
DICKHEAD: Why’d you walk out on us?
ME: Yeah, sorry dude. I had stuff going on at school.
DICKHEAD: You should have told somebody. You should have told me.
ME: Yeah… probably.
DICKHEAD: We could have worked something out.
ME: Well, honestly, in my mind, I didn’t think so. I figured that you wouldn’t have let me leave, and the thing was that I had to leave. I didn’t have a choice.
DICKHEAD: Why do you think that?
ME: Because, dude. You’re the one at work who’s constantly yelling at me and being unreasonable.
DICKHEAD: I would have let you leave if you really had to. We could have compromised.
ME: Then obviously I was wrong. I apologize for leaving, I just want you to know why I did.
DICKHEAD: You shouldn’t walk out on your co-workers like that. You need to stay there and get the shit you have to do done. You can’t just fuck people over like that.
ME: I understand that, and that’s why I’m apologizing. Obviously I was wrong to do it, but for me, there weren’t many options available.
DICKHEAD: We could have worked something out. You need to be more responsible about your job. You can’t just do that to people. I had people asking me where you were the whole night.
ME: Yeah… I apologize.
DICKHEAD: And it wasn’t me you fucked over. It was the other busser working that night. You stiffed him.
ME: I understand that’s part of it, and that’s why I’m apologizing.
DICKHEAD: In my book, school comes first. I’ve been there. I’ve been in your shoes. You could have told me it was school you needed to fucking leave for and we could have worked something out. You need to make those grades and get that shit done. I understand that.
ME: All right, dude…
DICKHEAD: But you should have said something to me.
ME: I realize that. This is why I’m apologizing. But I really didn’t think you were going to let me leave, so you need to understand that in my mind, this was one of the only options, to just leave.
DICKHEAD: I wouldn’t let you leave? You should have asked me, but instead you’re just here bitching and whining “ooo Kevin’s so mean!”.
ME: I didn’t say it like that, dude…
DICKHEAD: It’s just shitty of you to do that.
ME: I know. And all I can tell you now is that I’m sorry, which I’ve done.
Being employed is so worthless. And I wish I could get my keys out of my car.
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| Time: | 5:19 pm. |
| Music: | Damien Rice - Amie. |
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Ty's adventures are due to be photographically chronicled. Heads up.
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| Time: | 12:48 am. |
| Music: | Damien Rice - Volcano. |
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I’m fourteen school days out from my high school diploma.
So the way I see it, I suppose I should be writing some other coming-of-age post about “I can’t believe it’s all happening right now” and “my life is changing so much in front of me” and all that good stuff. But… nah. I’ll spare you the details. But let’s take a little glance at what exactly the highlights as of late have been.
Saturday night was Prom Nite 2005! Woo! Of course the alcohol was flowin’, and the good times, well, we procured some of those too. I’m glad I can look back on my senior prom and easily side with myself when I say that I had a great time. Well… I had a great time. I don’t speak for any of the other couples that we went with that night, because quite honestly, in my jolly drunkenness, I felt as though I were the only one really enjoying most of the evening. This is probably untrue, but I’m just saying, a good portion of a bottle of Jagermeister never lets you down. Unless you’re driving down Knox road at a quarter to four in the morning… then it all comes down; dependent entirely upon how much of a fool you were to put yourself in that position in the first place.
I’m talking about throw up, silly.
Could I have made it easier for you by saying “it all comes up”?
It’s all just the way you figure.
I decided that Shabu Fondue is one of the most evil places ever to serve Fondue in a clean and New Age environment, so I should probably never come back inside. Even for my tips. Even for my paycheck. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’m the type of kid who can lose ten dollars inside a grocery store and walk out only slightly irritated at my own accountability. Easily owning up to myself is either a good thing or a bad thing. Either way… it’s all just the way you figure.
I know. I know because today I was the type of kid who lost ten dollars inside a grocery store and walked out only slightly irritated at my own accountability.
Trevor will be moving into our house shortly, really marking the end of this old house seeming like a home to me; now it’s kind of taking on the look of a joke. This is too bad for my Mom, who is currently spending thousands of dollars to retile the entire downstairs. Wait a minute… thousands of dollars? Isn’t that exactly what my broken car needs? Ah, yes… C’mon, Mom. 18th birthday present. Roughly $4000 laid down for my hot red T-bird to not be ogled at whenever I drive past pedestrians or stop at a red light. Some would say it’s not worth it… still, others would argue that a fat stack of cash is entirely worth having two working doors in my car.
It’s all just the way you figure.
That’s the tagline for my movie.
And I’m the star.
*NOTE: All posts should end with, “And I’m the star”.
*NOTE: If your name is Rachael, Ashley, Vanessa or anything else hot, then I have custody of your life over the course of the entire summer. Don't argue. It'll save us a lot of time.
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Saturday, April 30th, 2005
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Prom Nite 2005, sponsored by the friendly people at Jagermeister.
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