I wish I wasn't a moron

So:

Today at Starbucks I'm working, making drinks, making small talk with customers, doing what I'm paid to do. It's a bit busy but no big deal.

There are these two girls who have started coming in. A white girl and an asian girl. They seem nice. Both studying to be, well, I don't know the official scientific term, but basically foot surgeons. Apparently they've asked about me when I wasn't around, and now I get teased by my fellow co-workers when they come in. I'm not interested in either of them, but it's nice to know there are people out there in the world who find me desirable.

The two girls in question came in, and of course I make small talk (which is how I learned about their studies and their intended career). When their backs are turned my manager Danny teases me a bit, all in good nature, and I'm feeling pretty cool.

Feeling cool is always what leads me into trouble because I am never, in no way, cool.

Later, still feeling cool, a man, say in his mid-thirties walks in, a professional look about him even though he's wearing a Superman t-shirt. Of course, being the comic book dork I am, I talk up a bit about superman, and we this man says that a few years ago he dressed up as Clark Kent for Halloween.

Anyway, a bit later I catch him reading what I think is a Justice League comic, mostly because it has Superman on the cover.

Ok, in reality, maybe an hour total has passed since the girls walked in and then this fellow with the superman shirt. I punch out to leave and the man with the Superman shirt asks if I'm the manager. I'm not the manager but maybe I can help him. He asks an innocuous question about the furniture but there really isn't anything we can do to help because we get all the furniture from Starbucks corporate and know nothing about it.

Then I ask him about the comic book, which turns out to be the Justice Society, not Justice League. Those of you not into comics are probably thinking, who cares, right? Well, no one really cares. I tell him the only reason I asked was I wanted to know what he might have thought about the new Justice League writer. He didn't really answer but said that the Justice Society comic was good. I responded that the writer of the Justice Society, Geoff Johns, never really thrilled me. I liked his run on the Flash, but outside the Flash it was just ok and I didn't think I was going to pick it up.

What's the big deal with all of this? I felt cool so I engaged a customer after I was off the clock. Had I not felt cool I probably would have directed his question to someone still on the clock and made my exit. The cooler I feel the more likely I'm to interact with strangers.

I came home and something about the whole exchange niggled me in the back of the head. Not so much a voice, but a general uneasiness, which kept biting the corner of all my thoughts. I decide, because this is how fate works, to look Geoff Johns up on the internet.

I've never seen Geoff John in person or in any photograph before today, but after seeing his image just a few moments ago on the internet, I'm about 85 percent sure that the man I spoke with at Starbucks was Geoff Johns himself, and I told him I wasn't thrilled by his writing. First off, as a writer I know how much that really sucks. Secondly, I would love to write comic books someday. And if it was Geoff Johns (which I'm now pretty sure he was), he'd be an amazing contact to have. I can't imagine, in my stupid, look how cool I am fanboy mode, I gave a good first impression. "Hey, yeah, remember me? I'm the idiot barista who said you weren't such a good writer to your face. How'd you like to help get me a job?" I don't think that will go over very well.

Next time I just have to remember that I'm not cool and to keep my big mouth shut. Or at least ask for a name first.

Grumpy McGrumperson

I can't write. I've stared at this blank space for almost a half an hour trying to come up with a good start and have come up with nothing. I hate my writing. I read it and its so awful it makes me gag. I'm not speaking specifically about my blog, just of my writing in general. I hate it. I really do. I find it trite, cliche, and above all else, extremly superficial. And not in a good Andy Warhol, Jasper Johns "clever" superficiality sort of way - just devoid of meaning or real interesting content (which you might feel about Warhol and Johns to begin with, but still, you get my point).

The whole kit and kaboodle, it really sickens me that I could have once thought it any good. The by product of this distaste with my work (which creeps up every six months or so) is utter self-loathing that I've wasted so much of my time on this garbage. And it isn't just any self-loathing, it's the worst kind: the pitying, self-indulgent, needy, annoying, self-loathing.

Anyway, it's all garbage, and I can't get anything out right. Even now, as I type I want to go back and rewrite this post, only I know that it won't be any better, no matter how hard I try.

So boo this, I'm done until I'm not.

Ami's reasons why not

To be honest I've kinda lost interest in blogging. Here, in no particular order, is a list as to why my interest has dropped.

1) Summer Movies. Superman, Pirates of the Caribbean, A Scanner Darkly, The Prairie home Companion. There is just so much time that exists in the day. And I have a horrid addiction to the cinema.

2) A mildly active social life. When I started blogging I had none, and now, I do. I'm not saying that one needn't have a life to be a blogger, far from it. Just that I'm a lazy, lazy man and if I go out, I am too lazy to blog afterwards.

3) Work. The bit at Tribeca is good (in fact that's where I'm blogging from right now), and not at all busy (thus the blogging right now part). It's Frappacino season at Starbucks. Being sticky and reeking of coffee is not so conducive to blogging.

4) So I think this is the real reason. I kinda, sorta, have a girlfriend now. And by "kinda, sorta" I mean I do have a girlfriend right now. I just feel weird using the word girlfriend. Especially since the girl in question is eight (seven and a half to be more accurate) years younger than me. And especially since she is going off to college come the end of August. A college, which - though in NY State - is far away enough that our relationship now has a potential expiration date when she leaves. Also because no one knows we are dating (well, three people do, but they don't count, no one else knows) and we are keeping it quiet (her decision, not mine - though admittedly it's one I very much agree with presently).

And that is really the problem. I'm trying to spend as much time with her as possible before she leaves. Which leads me to my next problem.

Last we spoke she was not in the best of moods. I tried to coax the reason out, but she remained silent. After a movie she confessed that she realized that though she didn't want to become too attached to me (for the reasons stipulated above, i.e college) she realized she probably won't be able to help it (yay me and my ladykiller like smooth moves) which will make leaving even harder.

I tried to play it off as cool as I could, talking about how more worrying = less fun right now. Something along the lines of we'll see what happens when it happens. Trying to keep everything relaxed and such.

There is, however, that very selfish part of me that wants her feeling attached to me, that wants it to be hard for her to leave. That desires that sort of attention. Mostly because it's gonna freaking kill me when she leaves. Hell, I wind up missing her on the few days we spend apart. I don't even want to think about when it's much more permanent.

Though I've really only had one serious relationship in my life, I'd like to think I have had my fair share of relationships in general. In the past, with the girls I've dated, I always felt like I was playing a role. Like if I dated her (all the various hers I've dated) long enough I would feel the way one is supposed to feel towards someone you're dating. Even the serious relationship I jumped into too serious too quick and said things I realized later I didn't really mean.

This is the first time I've actually been as happy as I thought I was supposed to be in my previous relationships. It's an odd sensation, and not one that I want to give up anytime soon. I'm not going to get all mushy, or use any grandiose terms, just suffice to say that I like J_ (the girlfriend) a lot, more than I think I have anyone before.

It's just our timing that sucks.



P.S. yeah, so I'm sick of these boring, serious posts. The next one (hopefully the next few) will be funny and interesting - or if nothing else at least funny. I'm getting sick of my dopey angsty mopey complaining crap. It's totally time to stop being that.

A retrospective, my fifteen favorite posts (narcissim anyone?)

It's been exactly a year since my first post on Blogspot. I have been blogging (as I hear the kids call it) for a year, and it's probably the only thing in my life the past year that has been consistent (and you all know how consistent my posting is, so what does that tell you about my life?). Anyway, in honor of my psuedo acheivment I give you my fifteen favorite posts that I wrote of this past year. I was going to do twenty, but thought that'd be too many, and ten didn't seem like enough for me to revel in my own narcisism. Some you might have read, some you might have not. Feel free to read the old ones you missed, or re-read my newer favorites. Yes, it's egotism at its best, but it's also far easier to put up a retrospective like this than actually write something about the past year. Laziness how I adore thee. My top five are astrixed since I don't know how to make a star. These favorites were chosen as the ones that distill my nature and essense better to the bare essentials. If you didn't know what kind of person I was before, these are the posts to get you up to speed.

Wednesday, Janurary 5, 2005: First thoughts

Sunday, March 6, 2005: You're on my list***

Monday, April 11, 2005: I hate writing cover letters

Tuesday, April 12, 2005: Poetry in motion

Wednesday, April 20, 2005: I'd like to buy a Vowell

Thursday, April 21, 2005: Almost, but not at all, famous***

Monday, May 2, 2005: Passover outside of Neverland***

Wendesday, May 11, 2005: This is not a test (or a joke)

Friday, June 24, 2005: Yesterday around 5PM

Thursday, August 18, 2005: I'm a stinker

Monday, October 10, 2005: Octopussy

Sunday, October 30, 2005: Secrets: Lies and Truths

Thursday, November 3, 2005: The secret true history of Amichai***

Saturday, December 3, 2005: People whom I admire

Tuesday, December 6, 2005: Why I am a Huge Dork***


Apparently I wasn't very clever in Feburary, July, or September. And I'm more clever on Mondays, Wendesdays, and Thursdays than I am on other days. Good to know for the future I guess. Now you know the days and months to actually read this stuff.

It's late and I'm cranky

Retail. I quit retail to get a real job that I'd like. Bah, apparently the jobs that I like don't like me. It's incredibly demoralizing to be honest. Everyday I have to keep a chipper attitude, thinking positive, and every day I go to sleep disapointed. I don't want to be stuck doing something I hate for the rest of my life and I don't want to work my way up into middle managment at some corporation that sells overpriced crap to idiots, and I fear if I go back to retail that's exactly what's going to happen to me.

The hardest part is keeping a positive facade. I know, I know, I never seem positive or cheery on this blog, but that's because it's my blog. In real life when ever anyone asks I have to pretend it's going well, keep up appearences. After a while it really hits home - gets me in the gut that I'm broke, in debt, without health insurance and about to go back to doing one of the things I hate most in the world. I know I shouldn't complain because there are tons of people out there worse off than I am, who don't have the same support system I have in place family , freinds, et cetera. Realizing I'm better off than many doesn't really take the sting away, rather increases it as to how much crap there is out there. There has been a panic attack building which I have been supressing as best I can that I think is just going to burst soon, and am scared it's going to be an all out nervous breakdown since I've been holding it in for so long.

I don't know. All I know is that I'm sick of where I am and what I am (and am not) doing. It's not the rejection that gets me, it's the fact that I'm not even getting any consideration, I get no calls for interviews, and no one takes my call when I try to be assertive. And it isn't like I'm applying to jobs I'm not qualified for. Everything and everyone I've sent my resume to has been for something I am more than qualified to do (much of it has been stuff monkeys are qualified to do, at least monkeys with a college degree).

I'm not looking for pity, I'm not looking for compasion, I'm not looking for anything. I just needed to vent and delay the panic attack I felt building up inside. My next post will probably ignore this one completely as that's what I've been doing, ignoring the crap until it piles up so high it can't be ignored. This just raises the wall a little higher to keep it from tumbling down, at least until next time.

And because this has been such a whiny and annoying post (I know I'd find it whiny and annoying if it wasn't about me) I will leave you with something fun (if offended by bad language do not click on link).

Why do I suck at life?

Just needed to get this out and have no other forum to do so. Just had a phone interview for a position at WGBH Boston, and I think I did all right, only maybe a bit too honest with questions like "what would your colleages say your three best work qualities are?" and "What would they say your worst is?" (the second one hurt much more than the first, obviously) I don't think I'm going to make it to round two, I don't find out until the week of the 26th, and probably won't post again until I do find out.

One question I thought was funny was "how do I set my priorities?" The first answer I thought of (but thankfully didn't say) was one my younger brother once used when asked the same questions: "I put them in a list and order them by level of importance, isn't that how everyone sets priorities?"

I'm sweating so much it's crazy. Man, I'm depressed.

Cat and Girl (and me)

As with most of my writing I've read over older entries of this blog and have found them to be lacking. They don't feel complete, missing a sense of a larger image in which they fit. As I read two ideas slowly crept into my head. The first: "Man I want a falafel." Followed almost immediately by: "Gasp! The imitative fallacy."

The first is pretty self explanatory, Falafel=Goodness. The second I'll take a moment to explain. For the unaware, the imitative fallacy is a trap many young (and even older) fiction writers fall into. The presentation of the plot imitates the themes and story, completely unintentionally. For instance, if you write a story about a race, where everything is speeding by, you might find that each paragraph is short, the sentences choppy, and the characters jump from one idea to the next very quickly, and none of it was planned when you started writing. The imitative fallacy is especially problematic if said style is bothersome to the reader (as stories that fall into the imitative fallacy often are).

Now how does this apply to my blog? I'm very glad you asked. I am unemployed drifting around aimlessly in a small suburban town. I have very little contact with my friends outside the phone and e-mail. No face time. I don't do much, as I said, I'm just sort of drifting trying to find a job (I had a job, I mean a good job, a job I'd like, not just a job but a Career). I'm 25 and I think it's time I started growing up. I don't want to get all stuffy in a suit and pants (pantsless employment=fun job or porn star, and I don't have the...ehem, body to be a porn star - nor do I think being a porn star would be a fun job, but that’s niether here nor there and this has become far too long of a parenthetical break) and just worry about money, and marriage, and children and all that other crap adults are supposed to worry about. But I also don't think I should still be bumming around working in a simple retail or coffee shop type job, not three years out of college with a nice (and expensive) degree.

I’ve looked back on my blog and found that the posts mimic my life. Drifting, aimless, self-contained, and searching for meaning. And really, that's just not good enough.

I just read the newest installment of my favorite web comic Cat and Girl and there was a line that really struck me. To quote, "If television's a babysitter, the internet is a drunken librarian who won't shut-up." I realized I didn't want to just be another voice of an endless "drunken" cacophony. So I'm taking some time off from this blog. I don't want to be profound (who really can be profound all the time, and those that are, man they're annoying), I just want to come up with a greater context.

I am still going to read all the blogs I read, because I like those blogs (noodles is posting again; I've said it before but I really, really dig her prose, both smart and funny - it doesn't get much better than that), but I'm refraining from posting until I find my context.

Or get really really bored, whichever comes first.

uh... carry on then...

a pounding not unlike the energizer bunny

I don't really like my father's computer. I'm a mac person, and he used to be, but has since (to be compatible with work) switched over to the dark side. I'm staying at his place until Tuesday - got here Friday - and it was a mistake to come. It was a mistake because my life is full of cruel ironies. For instance, I'm a cat person. Can't stand dogs. Dogs smell funny, take up too much time and energy, and can never be left alone. Cats only smell funny around the litter box, and if you are smart and buy good cat litter the smell is negligble and in an area of the house you infrequently visit. Cats are much more independent, but good ones will respond when spoken to and also love playing (and this playing induces a minimal energy expendature on the owners side of the equation). Not only that, you can't curl up with a dog and read a book or watch TV. A cat, however, couldn't be more content sitting on your lap as you read, watch TV, or even sleep. And cats don't bark obsessivly everytime someone walks by your house.

My father has two cats. Oscar and Felix; brothers named after the odd couple (one has fluffy bright orange fur, the other has black, grey and white peppered short fur). I have cat allergies. We had a cat when I was younger and I didn't have a problem, I shared a cat with my roomates in my first apartment four years ago (he is currently living with one of my former roommates in New Orleans - lucky bastard)and I still didnt' have a problem. But they were short hair cats and it wasn't a big deal. Felix - the fluffy bright orange one - is too much for me. His dander is everywhere and I need to be on a constant regiment of antihistamines to breath. In the winter it wasn't so bad, most of his fur stayed on his body. It's summer now and he's shedding like a made man (er, cat). It's hot, incredibly and incredibly humid in Queens and his fur is everywhere. I can only breath standing up. Once I lie down at least one nostril clogs up and I feel sinus pressure building behind my eyes and in my ears. Thus, I can't fall asleep. I was up until 7 in the AM when - thank the lord - it rained, temporarily relieving the humidity and much of my nasal pressure. I slept for a total of three and a half hours before I was forced awake by the unbareable sinus pressure building beneath my face. I'm just thankful I'm not a big enough dork to get random nose bleeds. Thank heavens for small favors

My neck hurts too, but I don't know why, and it's been hurting all week. It's kinda scary actually, but I'm too poor and unemployed (lacking health insurance) to see a doctor. C'est la vie.

So I'm beat, have a bit of a sinus headache, my stomachs doing the weird thing it does when I don't get enough sleep, and I'm home alone for the day (folks and a sibling went off to a wedding for the day, a wedding I was not invited to, bah, humbug). I have a car but am too tired to drive anywhere for fear of getting in an accident - also I don't really know my way around even in optimal conditions. My big plan is to go the the movie theater around the corneer and watch at least one really stupid movie (the Fantastic 4 is in my immediate future, that or Mr. and Mrs. Smith; I promised my Mother I'd see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with her so that'll have to wait).

Enough complaining. I'm going to try and come up with a clever title for this entry and then hopefully collapse into a bed and sleep for a few more hours.

That's all for now so be good little boys and girls, and remember to eat all your vegitables.

Oh yeah, since this is my pops computer I'm to lazy to figure out how to spell check this, so any words that are misspelled will remain that way until I get back home on Tuesday or Wendseday.

**NOTE** 1:15 PM
I finally updated my blog including Amber's life weblog. I check it frequently and have been meaning to add a link but was jut too lazy or forgetful. Anyway, it's up now in the link section. Feel free to check it out. As noted hers is far more intersting than mine.

Carry on then....

My Superman T-shirt

I hate nature. Actually, I love nature. Only, I hate it.

I can enjoy nature if say, I'm tossing around a ball or a frisbee, or if I happen to be taking a nice hike, or even going camping. I strongly believe in preserving our natural wildlife, state parks, finding renewable sources of energy, and so forth.

I hate mowing the lawn. I absolutely hate mowing the lawn. Let me reiterate, I despise mowing the lawn. You can say I feel very strongly on the matter. It isn't that I just hate mowing the lawn, I hate having to continually mow the lawn. At least once a week (twice if it rains) the grass must be cut. It's a two hour chore that wipes me of most of my energy killing my Sundays. I dislike shoveling snow, but I only have to shovel the driveway, and only when it snows. I have to mow the entire lawn every week. Every last blade of grass. I don't know how much it actually is, maybe about 3/4's of an acre, which isn't so bad, comparatively speaking (my neighbors across the street have about the same amount of land, but more lawn that I do - though they have one of those mowers you can ride on; I don't).

Whilst mowing I tore a hole in one of my favorite work shirts; rather, a tree tore a hole in one of my favorite work shirts. It's about an two and a half inches wide, and smack in the middle of my back. I either have to get rid of the shirt, sew it up (which will look pretty stupid) use it as a rag (god forbid) or toss it (I couldn't possibly). I could continue to wear it with the big hole in the back, but that also looks pretty stupid. Not that I'm trying to impress any one (I hardly have what one would call a rippling physique), but I should carry myself with some sort of-- ah, who am I kidding, I'll probably continue to wear it with the hole; even out in public. But that was a bummer.

And I killed a snake. I didn't mean too. I didn't see it. I didn't even know I killed it until I was emptying out the lawn mower bag and found it in a few pieces. It was just a simple garden snake, probably helping fend off pesky rodents or insects around the garden and lawn. It meant me absolutely no harm. And I know it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but I'm one of those "all life is sacred" freaks so killing the snake is just more bad karma I'm going to have to burn off some how. Maybe I'll go out and feed some stray dogs to the lions at the zoo. That might do it.

Anyway, I'm off to eat my lunch, then take down the storm windows because it's finally nice out again.

On a side note, my youngest brother is coming home from his three month trip to Israel today. Spent the third (and final) trimester of his high school senior year there. He will be landing in New York around now actually, and take a bus back to his school with his fellow classmates. Thus he should be back here at home around 8pm. I'm psyched to see him again, but I know he's really bummed to be back home (his girlfriend was with him in Israel, and now they are going to be spending the summer apart, then going to different schools in different states, MIT - her and NYU - him). But he's a good kid, I know he'll adjust. Regardless, it'll be nice to see him again.

That's all for now, carry on then...