coping, doping, and mopeing my days away

I could not make it the entire month of March, it was getting to itchy!

I've been neglecting this thing and for that I'm sorry. Most of my thoughts lately have been scribbled on the tear-soaked pages of dear diary, given my recent state of affairs. (The loss of your better half for two months will make even the most lizard skinned dude a little down in the trousers) I have coping mechanisms though, like anyone else, and should these prove semi-successful I should be, in no time at all, reunited with the one I love. In the grand scheme of things I really don't have it too bad, with the advent of internet I am able to at least send and receive messages without the use of snail mail.

That's all for now, got to get back to my coping mechanisms, i.e. video games and alcohol.

Mustache March

Ok, so here it is after about a week. I didn't have the balls to grow from scratch, so I went without shaving for about a week and then 86ed everything but this bad boy.

I encourage all who read this to do the same, ladies included. I saw a woman on the bus yesterday who put my shit to shame. She had a goatee the likes of which my face has never seen!

A broken machine, tired and forgetfull.

Right now I feel exactly like the computer I'm typing on, the only difference being it gets to sleep every now and again, and the fact that my internal cpu gets exhausted. Well, I guess that's not really true, Suzye's computer gets exhausted and shuts off now and again without warning. What I mean to say I feel mechanical, but I'm finding out just how bad of a machine I am. When I was a kid I wanted to be an astronaut, but I'm thinking there is no way I would be able to hack it after being subjected to this much stress and cracking as I have. I gave up on being an astronaut because I hated math and didn't think it would ever be possible. Seems like thoughts really do become things...heh heh. wait a minute, never mind, that is sad, not funny. I'm loopy, I should now say for the record that you shouldn't expect this post to make any sense, basically I am doing it only for the guilt of not posting for a while, and the complete lack of anything else to do. You see, I've been going for I don't even know how long without a day off of work and I may be for the first time truly at my whits end. After a long work-week followed by a seemengly equally long work-weekend (the closest to a weekend I get... wait a minute that does not make any sense... there are no shades of grey, either it's a weekend or it isn't...right?) Anyway, the point is that I lost an hour with daylight savings and I think I lost something else too... though I'm not quite sure what it is, or was. Maybe I was supposed to do something important during that time, but never did it because that hour was lost. Pressing on, after all of these shanatigans (SP?) I had to be at work at five am this morning and this did not help matters. Luckily though, it waited to snow until after I arrived. Had it not, my two-wheeled commute would have turned into something of an expidition. After work I asked my boss to raise my wage for teaching swimming lessons to that of lifeguarding (for some reason I get about fifty cents less per hour) and he basically said in so many words that he actually does not have the power to do this, and furthermore if I get a raise then everybody else has to also, and he is a stressed out idiot figurehead, and so on and so forth. Having utterly failed, I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and rode my bike to the transit center to catch a bus home. I got off the bus, checked the mail, and proceeded directly to bed to take a nap before class this evening. I was nearly in sleeps clutches when a disturbing thought occured to me.. HOLY FUCKING SHIT FUCK I FORGOT TO GET MY FUCKING BIKE OFF THE FRONT OF THE MOTHERFUKING BUS. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!
To give you a bit of backstory this is not the first time I have done this. The other time was after work one evening and I realized it right after I got off and sprinted as fast as I could after the bus. Luckily for me It stopped at the next stop and I was able to retrieve it no problem. A funny little tidbit on that is by sheer chance that as I was sprinting with every fiber of my being, Suzye was driving down Frederick street, almost home, when what does she see but yours truly, leaving it all on the field so to speak, running by. I, walking my bike, approached her car and she had the most worried look on her face until I explained what had happened. Anyway, to wrap up the story I did get my bike back, I just had to go to the transit center to retrieve it after making a phone call. What it meant though, is I was unable to take my sacred siesta. I hopped a bus to Evergreen and it is here I sit, half asleep and haggard, typing these run on sentences and misspellings that, for the first time, condone the title of my blog. I had some other topic to discuss, but I forgot it in my incessent rambleing. It was no doubt more noteworthy than what I have written but hey, what ya gonna do?

concrete jungle

The following is an excerpt from my journal written Sunday, March 1st while working at Costco.

America depresses the fuck out of me sometimes. Two little girls just strolled by me repeating "Coca Cola" to each other, each holding soda's bigger than their heads. Sooner or later the first words out of our children's mouths instead of "da-da" or "ma-ma" will be "McDonalds", "Pepsi", or "Huggies". Now more than ever I feel so out of place in this country. I would even go so far as to give up such awesome technology such as airplanes, automobiles, and even the internet if it meant I could live in a world where people were not slaves to corporations; all of us relentlessly sucking of the teet of our inherited consumerism. It would be a world in which I could have a distinct place and purpose in a community, preferably in a forest. Instead of buying in bulk at costco I could actually earn something by hunting a wild animal, using my whits and my strengths rather than my fucking debit card. I'm sick and tired of having to wade through shopping carts and people riding on motorized scooters, constantly seeing commercials for shows I'll never watch and products I don't need and will never buy, being told how I can get cash back and zero percent APR. Sometimes I am simply discusted by the world around me.

Now maybe not all of you readers know that every weekend I am slapped in the face with these issues, images, and stark fuckin realities, but I want you all to know that it is starting to wear me thin. Don't get too worried on my behalf, I'll be ok, maybe it's just that I've been far too long without a camping trip.

Letter to Suzye

Dear Suzye,
I don't really know how to tell you this, but the mafia wants you. I think I realized it when I tripped on peanut butter in your closet and I saw you pull the clothes off the elephant in the corner. I'm sure you're cowardly enough to understand that I get turned on only by garbage men. I'm returning your nose hair clippers to you, but I'll keep your mom as a memory. You should also know that I get sick when I think of your feet and our relationship is ruined

Go milk a cow,
Randall

Is it summer yet?

These last few days have served to remind me that I am indeed a resident of Olympia, as the rain has come and surely will persist through May. I'm not sure exactly why Oly has the worst weather on the sound. Maybe it's the geography, or the water, the low pressure mixing with the high, or maybe it's simply the attitude of inhabitants that brings about monsoons and all around gloominess 24/7. On Monday I did not see the sun until 5:46 pm, aint that some shit? (Kale don't comment, I know you have it worse but just let me have this one)

Melencholy thoughts all around on this wednesday morning for some reason. It could be that all my friends have left me, or will leave me, for in a couple three weeks my only company will likely be pickles, and sometimes I think the only reason she hangs around is due to the fact I provide her food.

There are times when I see redeeming qualities in the populace and I think, shit, humanity may make it after all. But most of the time I'm sure we're fucked. An example occured today in the post office. I got into my backpack to get out the piece of mail I was sending when I heard someone talking about me from behind. I had my headphones in my ears, but was not listening to music, so they must have assumed I could'nt hear them. Anyway they said something about me not being in line (I moved over about a foot to lean by backpack on a counter so I could retrieve my parcel). I turned toward them and obviosly caught them off guard and asked if they would like to go in front of me (being genuine). And the ladies formed like Voltron into a super-mega bitch, talking mad shit about how I was cutting in line. Keep in mind that she clearly showed up after me. Some guy behind them in line was like "what's with the argument" to which I replied "I don't know." I turned and ignored the beastly bitches, my heart pumping, and waited to mail my letter. I thought people were supposed to be nice to one another in generall, especially in such a depressing place as the post office. I mean, it's like being a POW with someone, Isn't there supposed to be some basic form of congeniality between people? I guess not.

Anyway, today is my day off from work which means, as usuall, that I am called in to cover someone elses shift (which I was earlier, like clockwork). But at least I had a legitamate excuse; I am meeting with someone my professor recommended to help me with my writing. I hope this person can help me, as I would love to be a better writer, but having never met this person there remains some doubt in my mind. The more I think about it, the more I'm sure that writing would be the career best suited for me. Maybe I need to have a succession of adventures and write about it like Kerouac, or seclude myself in a small cabin in the woods like Thoreau, or maybe just drink like a fish and fail to hold down any real job like Bukowski. At any rate, I think a day at the office comprised of writing in front of a screen suits my dispositoin just fine.

After the meeting it's homework time, followed by the food bank with SQ, (ain't being poor grand?) followed by petco to get mealworms for Zuke, then homework, homework, and more homework.

Is it summer yet?

WTF people?

So I show up to the library and am confronted with a choice, sit next to the bums (which I have already posted on) and the WOW players, or sit at these little study cubicle things. I choose the latter. But each one has something on it, some books, a magazine, a pencil carrier, etc. There are like four or five of these each with something on them, no one there. So I move a book and sit down. I sit here for about 40 minutes puttering around the internet and so on, when some girl hovers in front of me, staring me down. I take off my headphones and look at her as she grabs her stuff. I apologize and she continues to stare at me with her snaggle-tooth. I finally, after an awkward time ask if she would like the spot, and she says that "It is hers". I close my laptop and start to put it away when she sits down at the same cubicle as me, (on the opposite side of the partition, facing me) and goes about her business. Ok, first of all WTF!? Does anyone really own anything in a Fucking library? Even if you left something in the library you did own it would likely be stolen by bums in that 40 minute time frame anyway! And secondly, how did you not notice that there was an empty spot litterally inches from your snaggle-face? Bitch really got my goat.