4-5-1
Here we go again.... Tina and I wer talking over AIM this morning about the whole
rambling situation (among other things). Here's a transcript:
NGL1138: ih
tinagrrrl: ih
tinagrrrl: Some car salesmen try and sell rack-and-opinion steering.
tinagrrrl: Glorfie/Corley!
NGL1138: awwwww....
tinagrrrl: Bush's 6-Toed Kitty Runs Away
tinagrrrl: i just saw sign for the cabinet company on ireleand. they're hiring at &8.50/hr
for a truck driver/unloader guy
NGL1138: coo
tinagrrrl: what you doing?
NGL1138: surfing and being hungry.
tinagrrrl: i'm sorry
NGL1138: i need food!!!!
tinagrrrl: well, lucky for you, you're only there til 11
tinagrrrl: are you gonna update today?
NGL1138: nooo....
tinagrrrl: oh. why not?
tinagrrrl: did you see the thread joe started?
NGL1138: yeah. why?
tinagrrrl: did you respond?
tinagrrrl: i wanted to know what you thought about it
NGL1138: i'm not terribly concerned about the opinions of others.
tinagrrrl: yeah, but he's your brother
NGL1138: yeah, but he's making a mountain out of a much smaller mountain, or
something.
NGL1138: fluppleworld is awful.
NGL1138: here's my thoughts on the whole thing: our relationship is ours. i don't need
other people telling me how to be a good husband, aspecially when i didn't ask. i deal
with things as i see fit. the only opinion i care about when if comes to our marriage
(aside from mine) is yours, and i trust that if you have problems, you'll confront me with
them.
tinagrrrl: well i agree with joe
tinagrrrl: and your dad. no, you shouldn't feel sorry about how you feel, but you may well
ought to feel sorry about how you express how you feel
NGL1138: but i don't, and i don't think i should. so maybe i'm an asshole. i don't care.
the point is this: i've spent my entire life trying to distinguish between my public self and
my private self, and i finally realized that there's really no point. when i adopt a public
persona, i end up lying not only to the people i love, but to myself as well. i become
confused about who i really am. so i decided to cut the bullshit and be honest. you
wanna know me? this is me, faults and all.
NGL1138: i don't want to edit myself any longer, and i don't want to lie to protect the
feelings of others. if i hadn't said what i did, i'd be completely miserable, and, frankly, i
think it needed to be said, at least for my own benefit. selfish? maybe, but i think, in the
long run, it's beneficial for you as well. you know i'm awful when it comes to talking
about shit, and the best way i can deal with anything is writing. if people are
uncomfortable with it, good. i hope they are. i'm completely naked, and i'm happier with
who i am because of it.
tinagrrrl: and when you post it on a web page that you know everyone reads, it becomes
everybody's business
NGL1138: yeah, it doea, and i'm fine with that.
NGL1138: people can form all the opinions of me they want. i don't care.
tinagrrrl: then why do you have such a problem with the reperussions?
NGL1138: i don't. i don't necessarily like what other people have to say, but i'm not
preventing them from saying it.
tinagrrrl: rude. not only selfish but rude. how can you not care that you're hurting your
family's feelings and causing your mother pain and sleep loss?
tinagrrrl: not to mention your wife
NGL1138: well, for starters, it's better than killing myself. if i din't have that outlet, i
probably would be dead by now. ever since i poured out my heart and soul on monday,
i've been calm and at peace with myself. it wasn't easy to write, but i did. i had to.
people suffer. it's life. life is full of conflict. this is my way of dealing with it.
NGL1138: that doesn't mean i don't care. it means i'm choosing the lesser of two evils.
people will get over my ramblings much faster than they'll get over my suicide.
tinagrrrl: that's true. why can't you keep a personal diary, tho? i mean it'd be much less
destructive
NGL1138: it'snot the same. i want people to be able to know. i know it sounds strange,
and if people find it uncomfortable, they can always just leave. i've made it very clear that
my ramblings are nothing more than a journal of my unedited self.
NGL1138: jou know?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Auto response from tinagrrrl: I'm on a break. Back in 15 or so...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
tinagrrrl: i guess. i'm just glad you're gonna look for a job. and that you really have been
different since tuesday
NGL1138: you mad at me?
tinagrrrl: no
NGL1138: yay!
tinagrrrl: i can't say that for your family, tho. you really need to do something to smooth
things over with them. maybe tell them what you've told me today.
NGL1138: i'll prolly post it in my ramblings this afternoon.
tinagrrrl: did you save it?
NGL1138: looks like i can't on express. could you?
Now would you please get off my back about it?
I swaer, every couple months, something just has to blow up in my face. It's getting
really annoying.
On a completely unrelated note, um.... uh... Oh yeah. Now I remember. I have a
hankerin' for IBC. I could also go for some Olive Garden. *drool*
But it's Thursday night. We're gonna go shopping. Later on (or l8r 0n, if you're a l33t
haX0r), I'm gonna be free. Hey, who wants to go to the mall with me tomorrow to look
for a job? (Actually, I'll be looking for the job. You can accompany me.)
Anyway, peace out, yo.
4-4-1
So, we went to my parents' house for dinner last night. Tina needed to run off graduation
invitations on their printer. (They looked bad on the laser printer.) And my dad pulls my
aside and goes off on me for my previous post, in his disconcertingly calm dad-like way,
basically saying that he can't believe I'd air personal business over the Internet,
especially involving my wife, and how I'm not too good for certain jobs, and all the
bullshit I would expect to hear, and he told me I need to delete my previous post and
apologize to Tina. Suddenly, I remembered a big reason I moved out all those years
ago. Well, if you haven't noticed, my post is still up, and it's staying that way. I don't
really think I owe it to anyone to explain myself. Why should I? The whole purpose of
the Great Ramble is to express how I feel at any given time. Should I deny myself my
emotions? Should I have to be sorry for what I feel? Sure I was being selfish and
immature, and, frankly, I needed to be. I needed to overcome that to see things straight
again. And now I'm supposed to take it all back? I don't think so. Like I've said before,
you may not like what I have to say, but it's my unedited self. If that makes you
uncomfortable, don't read it. No one's forcing you to.
I find that I sometimes go back and read through the archives, and my most common
reaction is along the lines of I said that? Oh my God. I was so naive. I'm sure when I
look back at this, I'll think of how naive I was when I wrote it. But you know what? Life
is a learning experience. I'm twenty-fucking-three, and I think I'm allowed some naivite.
I wonder if that's spelled right. I'm smarter than most people I've encountered, and I don't
think I need to live up to their standards. I don't really know what that means, but take it
as you will. Like it says at the top of this page, I'm rambling.
Meanwhile, I have Dirty Old Town running through my head, and I'm wondering why
there's no information on the Enniskillen Rememberence Day Parade bombing online.
I've looked around quite a bit, and I'm not finding anything. There's plenty on Bloody
Sunday, though.
So, where am I going with all this? I have no idea. I'm human. Don't damn me for that.
Dad, you'd never bitch about any difficulties in your marriage, and you'd never say you're
too good for a job. Good for you. You're a much better person than I am. I hope it feels
good.
Yes, I am bitter. Yes, I am fine with that. Please don't tell me not to be. I've heard it all
before.
So, if anyone has a job they're willing to give me, let me know.
Snoogans.
4-3-1
I've been moody and introspective lately. Tina's been riding my ass about getting a job.
We're flat-ass broke, and I need another job so we can pay off bills and stuff, not that I'm
qualified for anything. Three and a half years of college, and all anyone wants is menial
labor. Well, I think it's fair to say I'm too good for that. Trust me. I've been there, and I
swore never to do it again. That's what getting an education is all about. At any rate,
there's nothing out there up my alley. I haven't really done anything for 4 years, aside
from work in the computer labs (read: surf the Internet), work in a video store I got fired
from, and shelve books in the campus library. (That might help if it weren't for the public
library's being anti-nepotism.) So, Tina decided, in her almighty wisdom, that if no one
hires my ass, I don't get to see U2. Why? Because she's makes the majority of the
money, and it's not fair that I get to go to a U2 concert. It's also not fair that any time I
to do something, we always find a way to make it happen. (Of course, any time
she wants to do something, we always find a way to make it happen, too, but she
doesn't really want to do as much. Nevertheless, when she decided it was time to
move, we made it happen. When she decided it was time for 2 cars, we made it
happen. I would have been content without them, which isn't to say I'd rather have
things the old way.) She even accused me of (get this) not doing anything for the last
month. I wonder how all our fucking stuff got from one apartment to the other. Oh,
wait. That doesn't count. I didn't get paid for that. And I suppose I was supposed to be
out working instead of lying in bed, incredibly ill, and fearing for my life. And here I
thought this was a marriage. All this time, I was under the impression that we're equals,
and she starts to mother me. No thanks, I've already got one, dear. You knew was a
lazy, self-loathing bastard when you married me. What made you think that would
change? Meanwhile, I find myself waking up to a fucking stranger every morning.
So, I asked Casey for a job. He said he can't afford to pay me.
Course, if I killed myself, Tina would get to sell all my stuff and I wouldn't get to see U2.
Sounds too good to be true? Well, it isn't. Suicide keeps looking better and better.
And the best part is that I'll be too dead to regret anything.
Looks like I may have plans for my lunch break.
I can't decide, though, whether this is a fake, cry-for-help suicide thing or a real,
I-fully-intend-to-die-in-the-near-future one. I'm not really crying for help. Quite the
opposite, really. I'm at peace with myself.
He couldn't believe how easy it was.
He put the gun into his face.
Bang!
So much blood for such a tiny hole.
Problems do have solutions, you know.
A lifetime of fucking things up fixed in one determined flash.
3-29-1
Dum dee dum... I'm at work, and I haven't a caaare in the world....
Oh yeah, if anyone wants to give me $10 for gas, I'll be happy.
I keep meaning to go to Fluppleworld, but I keep forgetting. But not today!
I'm tired. I think I'll take a nap when I get home (as I've done every day this week.)
Mena while that damn Bird is the Word song is going through my head. Thanks Steve.
Remind me to hurt you later.
Why is everything cosidered offensive these days? You can't say retarded because that
implies that someone is, well, retarded. So they change it to mentally handicapped.
But suddenly, people start thinking handicapped is offensive too, so they change it to
special. Now, special just sounds stupid, so they change it to disabled. But disabled
has negative connotations. It implies that somehow people who aren't disabled have
more skills and can use them better. Of course, people who aren't disabled do have
more skills and can use them better, but that's beside the point. We don't want to hurt
anyone's feelings. So, they change it to differently abled. Sure they can't do everything
I can do, but they're still good people. They have fewer skills and less mental capacity,
and all, and they're being singled out for exactly that reason, but God forbid we actually
say so. Now, don't get me wrong. I have nothing against retarded people (or any other
minority, for that matter), but as long as they're singled out from the rest of society, any
name we give them will be considered offensive. You can't say Negro. They're colored
people. Can't say colored people. They're black. Can't say black. They're African
Americans. What's next, caucasionally challenged? I've got a better idea. How about
we lump everyone together and call them people? But that would make too much
sense.
And what's the deal with minorities taking pride in their race? Race is nothing. It's
stupid. Nevertheless, we all have to make a big fucking deal about it. Take pride in
being black. Take pride in bein Asian. Take pride in being Hispanic. You are all great
people for it. If you take pride in being white, though, you're a racist. I say don't take
pride in our race. It's not like you accomplished anythingby being born Asian. It just
happened. If you want to take pride, do something worthy of it.
Wow, this guy's a fucking racist. I'm never coming here again. I'm not a racist. That's
the whole point of this little tirade. In fact, I'm quite the opposite. I think the issue of
race should be ignored completely by everyone. Race shouldn't matter.
3-28-1
So, I have two songs alternating through my head, and it's pissing me off. The first is
Cinderella Man by Rush. The second is Two Hearts Beat as One by U2. Funny how my
mind works.
I hunger.
I got into a bit of an argument with Emily last night. She's so stuck in her ways. She was
spreading IRA propaganda on some message board last night, and I mentioned that I don't
agree with the IRA. I guess that was the wrong thing to say, since I got to hear how
wonderful the organization actually is. Now, i'm not really into the Irish political scene, but,
as always, I have an opinion on it. And, of course, you get to read all about it.
Frankly, the whole thing is just stupid, petty bullshit. You get al pissed off over what is,
essentially, differences in beliefs. You stand on your pedestals and say all this shit in the
name of freedom. You kill innocent people in the name of freedom. But it's not freedom
you're concerned about. If it was, you'd concern yourselves with other people's freedom
from violence, their freedom from being victims of a war they want nothing to do with. No
one is innocent. Not the IRA. Not Sinn Fein. None of them. And to say the IRA never
killed anyone innocent is insulting. I'd like to see them tell that to the victims' families. It's
all bullshit. And here's what's really sick: The whole thing is being perpetuated on Internet
message boards and discussion groups. Everyone wants to be right. No one wants
what's best. Put aside your fucking differences. Grow up. You're a bunch of barbaric
children. You just have to one up the next guy, and you have no consideration for what's
right. You say you'll die for what you believe. You'll die for Ireland. Well, I say that's just
stupid. If anything, live for Ireland.
I've had enough of Irish Americans who haven't been back to their country in 20 or 30
years come up to me and talk about the resistance, the revolution back home, and the
glory of the revolution, and the glory of dying for the revolution. Fuck the revolution! They
don't talk about the glory of killing for the revolution. Where's the glory of taking a man
from his bed and gunning him down in front of his wife and his children? Where's the glory
in that? Where's the glory in bombing a rememberance day parade of old-aged
pensioners, their medals taken out and polished for the day? Where's the glory in that?
To leave them dying, or crippled for life, or dead under the rubble of a revolution that the
majority of the people in my country don't want?
Yes, I did memorize that Bono rant. Sue me.
I was up until 3 in the morning. I'm kinda tired, but not much.
I need money. I have about an eighth of a tank of gas.
I had something else to say, but I forgot.
The people on the Chick Click boards are fucking idiots.
3-26-1
So, I watched Chasing Amy last night. My copy's fucked up for some reason. Don't know
why. At any rate, I've come to the conclusion that I love the movie, but I hate watching it.
It's too... real, I guess. It's like reading someone else's diary. To be honest, I think it's
Kevin Smith's best film to date, but I find it hard to watch. Sure, it's funny and full of
in-jokes and whatnot, but it's also very naked, if you know what I mean. The characters in
it are very real. There's no real protagonist/antagonist struggle. It's all conflict, sure, but
it's real life conflict. There really is no good guy, per se. Sure, there's a main character, bt
he has as many problems as anyone else. The characters are wonderfully written. I was
so engulfed in the movie last night, I actually felt for them. I understood them. And that's
what bothers me. These aren't just characters. Chasing Amy is based on real actuall
events. Some parts have been exaggerated or altered a bit, but, as a whole, it's a true
story. And it's a very personal story. And here I am, some guy in the midwest watching a
filmmaker I've never met pour out his heart and soul for my entertainment. It's so
uncomfortable.
Meawhile, in the really real world, I'm flat-ass broke and things seem to be getting worse. I
hate when that happens. Since I dropped my classes (which was necessary, considering
the events that transpired this semester), the government wants me to pay back $600+ of
financial aid money. I can't take any more classes until it's paid off. It's gonna take
about a year. In other words, due to circumstances beyond my control, I'm royally
fucked. In the ass, even. What the hell am I gonna do? Plus I owe Dave $52, which he's
been asking for since I odered the tickets. (They finally came, BTW.) Y'know, you said I
could pay it back when I had money, and I told you when I'm gonna have money. I can't
really push that date up, so would you please stop asking me to? Plus I have rent to pay
and food to buy and ugh.... I just don't really want to deal with it right now. C'est la vie.
On a brighter note, I finished my Bono figure. He still looks too old. I should probably
repaint the hair.
I wanna take up smoking again. Oh, wait. I'm still broke.
I think when I get home, I'm gomma go to bed for many many hours. Not because I'm tired
(although I am), but to avoid real life.
I hunger. I could go for some Life cereal.
Tina's turning the keys to the old place in today. I'm so glad we're done with that. When
we went over on Saturday to finish up, there was list of frequent "lease violations" taped to
our door. Evidently, anyone caught littering or leaving trash in the hallway or around the
dumpster will be fined $30.00 from now on. Oh, and people who double park will also be
fined. Allegedly, there's plenty of parking behind the buildings. I lived there for 5 fucking
years, and there was never "plenty of parking." But you know what? It's not my problem
anymore. Hazzah!
Uncle Bill wants to kill you. My advice: Don't let him.
I could go for some chocolate milk right now. Mmmmm....
I guess the Oscars was on out last night. No matter how many times I edit that last
sentence, it just doesn't seem right. At any rate, I didn't watch. True Lies was on, so we
watched that instead.
It snew last night. I never gave it permission to snow, but it did. So, I had to sit in my
truck and try starting it two dozen times before it actually worked. I hate cold.
And I'm hungry.
3-21-1
I was just looking at new figures at Yakface.com. They're so cool. I want another
Chewbacca. Actually, I want most of them, but I'm waiting until a) I'm not broke, and b)
they're on sale for really cheap.
I had a dream about Paco's sister last night. No, not a sex dream. I was giving her a ride
home and we talked about stuff. I wonder what that means. At any rate, I really want to
get to know her better. She's nice, subconsciously, and she seems pretty cool in reality.
I hate dreaming sometimes. I love it at other times. It's just, I dunno, interesting, I guess,
what the mind can come up with when it isn't being controlled by consciousness.
That reminds me of a question I asked my dad recently. What would life be like if we
weren't self-aware? I can hardly imagine. We'd be like automated computers, obviously,
but just trying to think of how that would actually be, what the experience would be like, is
just beyond me. Dad says we'd be like animals, but I disagree, because animals, while
not conscious to the degree of humans, are still self-aware. I dunno. Just food for
thought. Mmm... Food....
I'm gonna get my oil changed today. I haven't had that done on my truck since forever. It
needs it bad.
I'm working on a Bono figure. The head is done, but it still seems too old. I'll probably
have to sand it down more or wait until Bono gets older. I need more black paint, too.
Looks like they're trying to get Whitney Houston as the next Bond girl. That promises to
suck.
What's the deal with robotic puppies? It's an oxymoron. Puppies, by nature, are
instinctual. They do what feels right. Robots, on the other hand (or paw), only do as they
are told. They're computers. Computers follow instructions. You can't have an instinctual
computer. It doesn't work. It's like in sci fi movies where they've mastered artificial
intelligence and built almost-human androids who can learn, analyze, and practice free
will, but they can't go against their programming. Huh? It just doesn't work. Instead, what
we have is fake instinct with robot puppies and fake AI from movie androids. Data can fall
in love, but he can't use apostrophes. He's stuck to his programming. But wait, if he's
stuck to his programming, how can he actually feel love? It's all just a program, right? It's
all just his CPU telling him You're in love now, Data. If that's the case, it's not really an
emotion, is it? I mean, if I mentally tell myself that I'm in love with the guy across from
me, am I actually in love with him? Of course not. Why? Because I don't feel it. I just
say it.
So where does that leave us? Either emotion is just internalized speech, which it isn't, or
AI is a logical impossibility.
Are ya icky? Are ya sticky? Are ya hot as anything?
3-20-1
So, I've been trying to update since yesterday, but I couldn't get in. I was sick almost all
of last week with a stomach flu type thing. It was a bitch. I felt much better after I puked.
My underwear's pinching.
We finally got the rest of the stuff out of the old place. Now all we have to do is throw out
some boxes and clean a little. Hooray!
I'm hungry and tired and sniffly.
And I'm sick of stupid people online. I just got finished defending TPM form another basher
who didn't know what he was talking about. I don't mind if you didn't like it, but don't tell
me I'm wrong if I do. Bastard.
I finally saw Princess Mononoke. No, I'm not gonna review it. It was ok, I guess. the
voices were done by people who sound familiar but are a little obscure. And Gillian
Anderson.
We got a new cat for about a day. It was a stray that was wandering around our
apartment. Tina let her in. She was just a kitten and was tying to nurse on Tina's fingers.
I didn't want another cat, so I pretty much ignored her as much as I could. Noel had a
client who wanted a kitten, so she took her. Evidently, her name's Squeek now. The
cat's, not the client's. I don't know the client's name.
I need to get my computer fixed. It's been pissing me off. I can't install CorelDraw. I also
lost all my cool fonts. That sucks.
I'm still going through my U2 CD's. I'm into Zoo Europa now. I like it. I cant' wait to see
them. But I'm not driving. Nope. Not me. Someone else can. I'm not gonna. As such,
I'm leaving transportation in the hands of George, Trent, and Paco (if he's coming).
I've got Rocky Horror music going through my head. Damn it's catchy.
3-14-7
There's nothing like chocolate milk first thing in the morning. Then again, there's nothing
like horseradish first thing in the mornig either, but that's different.
I was sick yesterday. I had some bad chicken and a fever. I stayed in bed all day until
8:00, and I kept getting up about every half hour cuz I felt like I was gonna puke. I never
did. Now I'm sore and my tummy hurts (still) but it's probably out of hunger. The thought
of eating chicken makes me want to hurl.
On a brighter note, I finally got to the end of Wario's Woods. Hooray! It was a long and
trying struggle, but I did it.
I've also been listening to my entire U2 collection all the way through, chronologically.
Right now I'm at the Captive soundtrack. Great music, bad movie.
I realized a major problem I have with the chickclick board. Most of the people there are
completely unable to think outside of the box. It's insane. They need to be hurt.
I'm supposed to help Dave move some stuff today. That'll be fun. I need gas. I'm running
on empty (almost). That reminds me...
On a completely unrelated and not at all entertaining note, Fuffy, would you stop with the
meowing every morning at 5:00???
I don't care if your moral code differs from mine. It's inevitable. I have enough trouble living
my own life. I'm not gonna start living yours too. All I'm saying is that you should at least
try to understand where I'm coming from before you start making assumptions and
attacking my character.
Ok, so that was a detached rant.
I need money. Bad.
3-12-1
I got submitted a new word to the pseudodictionary.
I did some work for Dad on Saturday, helping with the concert. Technically, I have 2
employers now, which means, uh, not much, actually. Anyway, I mostly carried the
keyboard around and wandered around backstage, which is easy work, meaning I get paid
to not do much, kinda like my other job.
Steve came to visit us last night. He's back from Bloomington for spring break, I believe.
We watched Pod People.
I've recently become obsessed with the Electronic Whore Phorum, and I'm not sure why.
It's one of those fleeting obsessions, I guess, kinda like Wario's Woods, where I'm at level
97.
Dave got the Clerks cartoon DVD. So far, I've watched it 2 and a half times. I love it.
You know, if the little sign on the typewriter says to ask someone from the circulation
desk, chances are you should ask someone at the circulation desk. I hate dealing with
morons. Earlier someone asked if I could put Excel on the computer she was using, since
it wasn't there. I pulled up the start menu, got to Excel and opened it. I guess to some
people, if it's not on the desktop, it just isn't there. These must be the same people who
say that lack of proof is disproof. They should be shot.
Not that I'm bitter.
Great, now stupid bitch is looking for my boss. I guess she's upset that I couldn't help her
with the library's typewriter. Either my boss will call me in a few minutes, or she''l tell
stupid bitch it's not my problem. Either way, it's not my problem. I did more than what
was required of me. I refer you to the little pink sign on the typewriter that says to ask the
circulation desk.
So, maybe I am bitter.
My lip hurts.