Hold Your Applause, Or Tears, Or Judgement...

Still waiting on that post I referenced in the previous post about a future post?

Well done!  Your patience is commendable, but this isn't it.  Keep waiting, it will exist.  (How can I make claims about the future? (Too much epistemology class...(I fucking love embedded parenthesis.)))

A thought occurred to me today, several of them to be precise.

The first was an interesting (to me) thought about the nature of reality, and if the brain can overcome 'reality,' lets say in this case, desensitize pain into nothingness through sheer willpower, what does that say about the nature of an objective reality if we all have the potential power to just, ignore it...?

Anyway, the more inane, mundane, but comical (to me) thought I had today had to deal with hasty emotional investments.

Here's some situations:

1.  "I'm 19 years old, going to school, trying to keep a part time job, but it's hard in this economy you know?  Anyway; my mom died unexpectedly last night.  I don't know what to do anymore.  My dad left us a few years ago, and I have no idea where he is or how to contact him, and now... I'm entirely alone, and scared, and we never had much money so, possibly soon to be homeless."


In scenario 1, I think it would be safe to say that you feel bad for said 19 year old human, that's really harsh, rough stuff, totally a difficult situation to find yourself in.  If presented to an audience, there might be a reaction of sadness, maybe even wanting to help.  Seems normal and reasonable right?

Let's move on...

"I'm entirely alone, and scared, and we never had much money so, possibly soon to be homeless..."
AND
a.  "She died unexpectedly, because I didn't think I would kill her last night.  Which I did, I smothered her with her pillow while she was sleeping."


Ooh, yeah... Do you feel bad for feeling bad?  You maybe should.  I'm not here to pass ridiculous moral judgement though, just guiding a feelings roller coaster.

Let's move on...

"Which I did, I smothered her with her pillow while she was sleeping..."
AND
b.  "I felt like I was killing myself along with her, I had been selfish for far too long.  She'd fallen very ill with a degenerative disease and had been begging me for a peaceful death over the past year after failing to end her own life time and time again for months.  I couldn't stand the idea of losing her though, and never wanted to entertain the idea of her passing.  It became clearer and clearer as the months dragged on that I was being selfish and immature, and that her suffering was needless, I just needed to learn to let go..."

See?  Now we feel a little better about it.  I take a pretty 'Kevorkian' stance to these sorts of situations, so for me, no moral issue here, and for the sake of the experiment let's see this mercy killing as a favor wanted by both parties.

Let's move on...

"her suffering was needless, I just needed to learn to let go..."
AND
c. "Her disease had progressed slowly but relentlessly, just as I planned the night I injected the needle into my sleeping mothers arm, passing onto her the dreaded degenerative virus...  Let that be the last time she ever takes my car keys away."

WEREN'T YOU JUST PITYING THIS PERSON?  GOD YOU'RE AN AWFUL PERSON, WORSE THAN THAT PERSON MAYBE!

Wasn't that exhausting?  Well, if you throw yourself in the emotional deep end for every story you hear, it certainly must be exhausting.

You know what?  This post actually might have a point.

Ladies, gentleman, before causing yourself some exhausting emotional crisis when you hear news, good, bad, whatever; please please please, get all the information before you make a decision.  I think this goes doubly when it has to do with judging a person or their situation, consider all the factors before you make a decision about how to feel about another person.  It's a good skill to have.

This post got far too serious.

This is a post informing you of a future post, isn't that incredible?

Hey, for my newest masterpiece (a hand drawn (in Paint) comic), I will abuse a joke, that may not be understood, depending on where you grew up.

Look for it in the coming future.

My intent is no mere coincidence, and the fact that you have no clue what I mean is perfect.

Good luck.

The Past, The Future, The Self.

It feels like every god damn thing from my teenage years is a fucking embarrassment.  An embarrassment I am masochistically able to share with whomever asks to see what I was like.

Even reading previous blog posts makes me want to hang (myself) my head in shame.  I remember being oh so excited to write about my inane banter on the internet, to a population of roughly 10 people, 1 of them being myself...

So it took a lot of willpower, to not just burn this blog to the ground, and instead write about how everything I write about in the past is shameful to the point of giving me heartburn.  

Of course, some ridiculous time traveling reference aside, I can guess that when future me sees this post by past me, some curious things are going to happen... (Seeing as how I haven't really addressed future me in writing, aside from making a time capsule in the fifth grade to open upon my high school graduation... I remember thinking (as 17 year old high school grad me) that fifth grader me was a cheeky fucker who made me laugh a bit, but was a fucking dumb ass, and saying 'ironically...' would be wrong because *obviously* current me (22 y/o wtf am I doing college stuff me) thinks that 17 year old high school loser me is a loser, and I'm better than that guy, in literally every way.  

Somehow this feels like I'm setting myself up for disappointment...

Now that was a rant!  (Nice.))

Bet you forgot that shit was in parentheses.

Anyway, curious things will happen:

• I hate numbered lists.
• I will get annoyed at my past self for referencing my future self, which will have been "clever" but nonetheless annoying to me.  (Me being the future me reading this in the future, assuming I don't go blind, and they don't have internet braille. (Keep up.))
• I will be surprisingly happy with my insight and reward myself with treats.  
• I will laugh at the absurdity of my foolish and weak past self trying to predict future behavior.
• I will nostalgically remember moments in my life like this night and smile/frown/burp.  
• Who reads this shit?

Basically what I'm saying is, it is some dark tormented black magic that sustains the idea that I'm happy with who I am at the moment when considering that the future looking back me is almost always disappointed.  Maybe that's just a part of knowing that one day you will die, and every day you look back on yourself is a measure of how far you've come, AND SECRETLY THE WHOLE TIME, I HAVE TO TELL MYSELF I'M BETTER NOW THAN I WAS BECAUSE IF I HAVEN'T GROWN OVER TIME THAT I AM STAGNATING AND I DO NOT WANT MOSQUITO LARVA(E) GROWING IN MY WATERS OF FAILURE.

Okay well that got too real.

Time to double check this and make sure I didn't commit any horrendously lazy grammatical errors that I will judge in the fast approaching future as shamefully unacceptable.  

I'm proud of you future me.  <-- That shit is impossible.

(And to the poor bastard(s) in Turkey reading my blog, literally what the hell are you doing?)

List Of Things I Hate

• When they Fort Knox the shit out of simple electronics.

ex:  Oh, I'm sorry!  I didn't know I had to get my fucking jackhammer out to get at the HDMI cable.

Life is hard.

My Experience With: Macaroni and Cheese!

Yay!

Mac and Cheese!  Childhood favorite!  Interesting how I haven't made any until day, and I'm 21. 


Here's how it went:

Reading instructions... Notice about how after 4.5-5 minutes in the microwave, the bowl will be very hot.  I noticed this because I have no heat tolerance, and am like a little girl (who hasn't spent time in a kitchen.)

Begin preparing macaronis.  Pour out 1 bag into bowl.
SUDDENLY BECOME ENRAGED WITH SERVING SIZE!
Pretty sure I said, "My ass could eat one serving of this!"

Proceed to pour in second serving. 
Still ruminating on how they have child like proportions.  Realize it's mac and cheese.  Get more mad.
"It's like they DON'T want kids to get fat these days!"  Seriously, the servings are bird food.

Scour kitchen for a measuring cup. 

Did I already know that 1 cup = 8 fl. ounces?  Nope.  Did I find out?  Yep.  Did I get mad about that too?

You know it!

Pour water into bowl.

Put into meecrowav.  On high, 2.5 minutes, because it said 5.

Remove bowl.
BURN THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF MY FINGERS.  WTF.  WTF?!

You think warning me about the heat of the bowl is going to stop ME from burning MY fingers?  Fuck you Mac and Cheese box. 

Let it cool down.

Open "cheese" bag 1.
Haha, this cheese is a powder.  Why is this cheese a powder?  Shrug.  Pour in, mix.

Open "cheese" bag 2.
This cheese is also a powder.  Pour, mix.

Eat.

Yummy!

And the most important note:  I was finishing off a bottle of red wine while doing this.  I feel like this is the reason they don't let kids drink, aside from physiological things.  Red wine and Mac and Cheese.  I am the biggest 8 year old on the block.

No seriously, I probably am. 

Productivity at Work

This is what I did at work today.

Cover your food, clean after each uses! [sic] Thank you;

DO NOT Leave unattended in pool.

(That's a microwave.)

Innovation and Technology

Well it has certainly been a busy however many days since my last post...

A lot of great things have been happening that have kept me rather busy.

But those things are boring.


What isn't boring is my epic struggle against a Horse Fly.

This was no ordinary Thursday night, this was the night we left the outside door open to bring in the plants, because yes; it's literally going to freeze tonight, September 15th.  Cool, pun not intended (sarcasm on the other hand...)

So I'm bringing in some heavy ass potted plants when suddenly several flies and other insects make their collective presence known by loudly flying about the living room area. 
Many died in the initial assault.

But morale was still high for the insects for their Great and Powerful Champion Horse Fly lived on.

Bewildered that I lost track of one of them, I went up to my room to pout, only to find him being a loud ass horse fly near my computer.

These were tight quarters and as awesome as it is to spray raid all over your computer and screen, it isn't.  I feinted an escape (as a ploy to get the fly out of my room) and I knew I had the upper hand when he followed.

With silent rage I followed the fly into my bathroom, and closed the door effectively trapping him inside with me and bottle of Raid.  He dodged spray after spray, and I quickly left the bathroom with my lungs only slightly burning.  At this point I was wondering to myself 'how the fuck is he still alive?'

I needed to upgrade my arsenal. 

A towel and bottle of raid would be the means to his grave.

After airing out the room by quickly fanning the door open and closed I covered my mouth with my shirt collar and ran in.  Swatting and hi-yahing about I finally pinned him to the ground.  As I raised the bottle of Raid over his smug fly face he made one last swipe at my nose and with an impressive backward bend and swat, he was dropped, only to have the remainder of the bottle poured into his VERY BEING. 

Victory was mine.

I'm still kind of coughing.