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For the week of june 8, 1997
Just got a slew of pictures developed, and me without my scanner. Not that it would do me much good, I realized, because I really don't know where on the page these pics fit in. Some of them go with my people pages, which I haven't really worked on in ages (seems to have lost the initial thrill somehow), but others are just... there, and I don't know what do do with them.
Maybe a new section.
I realized that reading all these books at the same time was probably not doing me a whole lot of good, so I've decided to stick with one at a time from now on. I think my brain will deal with that a lot better.
Beginning to dread this work thing more and more since I know that there's a lot that I want to do on my own, and that I really don't want to be tied down by responsibilities to other people. Selfish, to be sure, but I spend all year taking care of the theatre, doing my school work. Not that I mind all of that. But now that I have time to just sit on my ass and do nothing, I'd like to take that opportunity.
I feel like writing some more. I feel like there's something burning inside of me wanting to get out. But I don't know what it is. I know that there's nothing more that I want to say here, and yet I don't want to stop.
There are times when I feel that writing in here is an obligation. To myself, to whomever's (whoever's?) reading this, both, neither. Something. And I write even when I have nothing to write. This time, I want to write. I want to say something. And there's nothing to say.
This, we call rambling. I think I'll stop.
Oh, and my room still isn't clean.
Tomorrow I will finally get off my ass and I will go find work for the summer. Interview. Wow. The thought is a bit depressing. The monotony of summer hasn't quite hit me yet. I don't yet long for the days when I can count the moments until I go back to school. I'm having too much fun here as it is.
Sure, there are people that I want to see. Sure, I miss the schedules, the days, both predictable and not. I miss the stress of classes. I miss the rush of doing too many things at once, the thrill of being overcommitted.
But I'm not ready for all that yet. I needed a break, and I'm getting one. I'm doing things that I really want to do, and I do them not because I have to, but because I can.
I'm reading.
I got up today and within an hour was painting the basement window frames.
I replaced the post holding up the mailbox. Sure, I hurt like hell now (damn wrists), but it was fun. I got to be outside, I got to set my own time doing something that I told myself I wanted to do.
No, work isn't that bad. I'm just whining.
...
Just finished watching Shawshank Redemption on tv just now. (Yes, I should be asleep) 40 years in prison. I just can't fathom that much time. That's twice as much time as I've been alive. To spend that time, behind a wall, to know that the world is going on outside of that wall, and to know that you have nothing to do with that world.
I can't imagine living without contact with the world.
Remind me never to do anything that'll land me in jail.
Five months ago yesterday, I started this little project. Why did I do it? An experiment? Exhibitionistic tendencies? Something in between. I really can't say. I'd been reading through a lot of those other "online lives" as I like to call them. People who have put a portion of their lives on the web for other people to take a look at. I realized that there was something there that I wanted.
I wanted to be known. If only to a kid out in the midwest who will never set foot outside of his town, I wanted to be somebody. There's a part of me, a small part, mind you, but a part none the less, that wants to be famous. Well, since I really can't stand attention in real life, and since there's probably no way to be famous and have people leave you alone, this seemed like the next best thing.
Besides, my friends wouldn't hear of it, so I needed someone to bitch to.
I'm tired. I'm going to sleep. (you guessed it... no one to bitch to right now)
thursday, june 12, 1997, 01:53
I hate not being able to write. I hate not having anything interesting to say. Or at least no interesting way to say the things that I want to say. Not that it's ever stopped me before.
So I just went to the dentist today. Got that clean mouth feel. Got a new tooth brush. Got some dental floss. Even flossed tonight after brushing my teeth. That's gonna last. Sure. About a week, while I still feel guilty about not having flossed during the last six months. But that'll soon wear off. Oh well.
It's also finally gotten hot around here too. Feels like summer. And now I remember why I don't like the summer. It's damn hard to get cool when it's hot and humid outside. On the otherhand, the winter is very forgiving, and will let you warm up, even if it happens to be freezing outside.
Then again, the cold can be pretty annoying. Oh well.
I've hit that non-productive part of my summer. I'm going to have to do something if I intend on keeping what little bit of sanity I have left. Big plans to reconfigure my computer are in the works, but that's a big full day operation. Doing a lot of reading, but that really doesn't do much for me either.
I need a project that'll really hold my interest. Something that I really want to do, and something that I can do. Something not like cleaning my room. Something not like cleaning the gutters or painting the mailbox.
Of course I haven't been lucky enough to find that something yet, but I'm sure it'll come along some time this summer.
Most likely it'll come about a couple of days before I have to go back to school at which point I'll be complaining about not having enough time at home. Or maybe not.
I really don't know what's going on any more. Going to be working soon, hopefully on interesting stuff. I wish I could write more, but this environment just doesn't seem to be doing it for me right now.
Maybe if I clean my room.
*smack*
Sorry. Never mind.
It's hot and icky here. I don't like the summer too much any more.
And I've found that I'm really not satisfied with anything I do these days. Probably because, in my mind at least, there's really not much to do. I can get up, do some work around the house (ick), or I can go hang out with some people (total friends home: 3), or I can play on the computer.
None of those really holding my attention these days. Even the web is losing my interst now. The pages that I read on a regular basis aren't getting updated enough. And I really want to do some writing, but I can't inspire myself to sit down and write.
Talking to a friend about after school plans. What's going to happen? I know that I want to move out of my house. Get some place that's my own. Problem after that is actually doing something. These days I'm leaning more toward cs stuff as a career. Although I could see doing freelance theatre if that option was there.
But a job? Have to start looking to see what's out there. What oportunities there are. What I should start teaching myself that will be useful. I really enjoy writing when I can get it out of my system. I enjoy touching people with my words. But I don't think that it's going to work its way into my career life.
Maybe PCExpo will shed some light on things next week. Give me an idea of what kinds of companies are even just out there.
Maybe I'll go floss my toes now.
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