I like cats. I like dogs. But I am embittered by Blogger's Blogs of Note. I don't care about your charcoal drawings of horses. I don't care about your diabetes. I don't care about your guide dog association. And I especially don't care about articles written from the vantage point of your cat!
This one is kind of neat: http://cobwebbedroom.blogspot.com/. It has interesting images and critique that one of my Asperger's syndrome friends would enjoy wasting time on.
This one is pretty: http://jacquelinegnott.blogspot.com/ but I don't want to buy your art. Nobody on Blogger does. Hang them at your local coffee shop. Also, stop posting images of things. The written word is where it all happens. I'm not saying my blog is chock full of content and exciting pictures of horses, but I am confident that my stories and erudite rants and complaints about life are far more important than horse pictures. I inserted the modifier "erudite" to show you how intelligent I am. I'm going to continue on this embittered limb I've bent and say that unless you write, you're stupid.
A brilliant yet snobbish Turkish programmer I work with told me that eventually, the internet will be completely text-based. The world of images will simply cease. While I don't see that happening as we people are fascinated by luminous colors, I certainly want it to.
joke life
Sunday, January 30, 2011
My sweet aunt and my silly privileged American life
Today my aunt called me at about 5pm today. She says, how are you doing, are there any new developments in your life, how is work, how is school, etc. Most things anyone's aunt would ask them. An aunt who is distant and whom one can only visit once every year, or every other year. I tell her about what I'm studying, how much I enjoy it, how I like my professors and faculty, how I like my college, how I like my job, what I'm doing there and what I like about it, how my father is doing, lying if he is not doing well, but using an unsure tone if I am so she may understand without me speaking negative about him, what great things he is doing, how happy he is doing these things.
Maybe you are noticing a pattern. I do not think my situation is unique. There is so much I wish I could tell my aunt. She calls me every other Sunday if possible, ever since I lost my mother. I could tell my mom a little more, maybe a lot more. Yes, I could tell her almost everything! Somehow, sometime I will.
I should have told my aunt about what I did last night, why didn't I? I don't appreciate people being vague, why am I doing it myself? I think I was just startled and upset by her call, and when I am startled and upset, I play it safe by dealing with generalities. Much like the small talk at work.
I want to do more drugs. I wish I could find some opiates, some hydrocodone, oh that would be splendid, laying here, eating some ice cream, gazing at Dostoevsky's writing and...well, provided I could still follow the novel, it would be nice. In the past I had taken too much and I would just vegetate in front of my computer listening to ambient music and wasting my high time in front of mindless internet forums with stupid people arguing about how stupid the other person was.
Oh dear. What am I going to do with my life? My slightly older cousin will soon finish his business degree. My uncle, the Canadian capitalist, strongly believes his son will find a job in their Candadian economy in 5 minutes, starting between forty and sixty thousand Canadian dollars a year. After speaking to my mentor about this, the frailties in my uncle's comparison between my and my slightly older Canadian cousin became clear: If I pursued a degree in business, I would want to kill myself! -in a miserable fury, a kind of fury that lurks in the back of your mind, and writhes more as you age and fail to appease the objectives you set out to complete years ago. That sort of fury that triggers quarter and mid-life crises! I may be less attractive than my Canadian cousin, and while I could never muster the votes for my branded self to be Student Body President (of XXX private Christian college {UGH! GAG!}), I am a far more interesting person, with my struggles, my battles, my anguish, my old poverty, my rage, my highs, my ecstasies, elements he will never know! I am special! Listen to me! Hire me! Also, he'll have to work in offices! I have learned, in my work and experience, that offices are the bane of consciousness! The classroom, the studio, the library, the lecture hall, the streets, the outdoors, the kitchen and the bedroom are where things of importance spawn! And my girlfriend's on birth control, so let's just say things of importance happen there, not spawn. I'm too queer to be a breeder, but not queer enough to play with the boys. I know, I know. God made me this way. If only there was something I could do to remove this curse...but let's not go there today.
I know, I'm not modest here, I don't have to be. I am being silly, too. And I am hungry, so I will leave this library (where something of importance is spawning) for the kitchen (where something of importance will spawn).
As for what I'm going to do with my life, I'm going to drive home, make some tortellini, maybe drink some wine, get to page 60 in this novel, play a video game, and who knows what else, but I'm going to enjoy it. I've been working my ass off, except for last night, I need to take it easy, on my own. God bless America.
Maybe my cousin will make 40-60K CEOing the company that Trader Joe's imports their tortellini from.
Nah...
I don't think any of their products come from Canada.
Maybe you are noticing a pattern. I do not think my situation is unique. There is so much I wish I could tell my aunt. She calls me every other Sunday if possible, ever since I lost my mother. I could tell my mom a little more, maybe a lot more. Yes, I could tell her almost everything! Somehow, sometime I will.
I should have told my aunt about what I did last night, why didn't I? I don't appreciate people being vague, why am I doing it myself? I think I was just startled and upset by her call, and when I am startled and upset, I play it safe by dealing with generalities. Much like the small talk at work.
I want to do more drugs. I wish I could find some opiates, some hydrocodone, oh that would be splendid, laying here, eating some ice cream, gazing at Dostoevsky's writing and...well, provided I could still follow the novel, it would be nice. In the past I had taken too much and I would just vegetate in front of my computer listening to ambient music and wasting my high time in front of mindless internet forums with stupid people arguing about how stupid the other person was.
Oh dear. What am I going to do with my life? My slightly older cousin will soon finish his business degree. My uncle, the Canadian capitalist, strongly believes his son will find a job in their Candadian economy in 5 minutes, starting between forty and sixty thousand Canadian dollars a year. After speaking to my mentor about this, the frailties in my uncle's comparison between my and my slightly older Canadian cousin became clear: If I pursued a degree in business, I would want to kill myself! -in a miserable fury, a kind of fury that lurks in the back of your mind, and writhes more as you age and fail to appease the objectives you set out to complete years ago. That sort of fury that triggers quarter and mid-life crises! I may be less attractive than my Canadian cousin, and while I could never muster the votes for my branded self to be Student Body President (of XXX private Christian college {UGH! GAG!}), I am a far more interesting person, with my struggles, my battles, my anguish, my old poverty, my rage, my highs, my ecstasies, elements he will never know! I am special! Listen to me! Hire me! Also, he'll have to work in offices! I have learned, in my work and experience, that offices are the bane of consciousness! The classroom, the studio, the library, the lecture hall, the streets, the outdoors, the kitchen and the bedroom are where things of importance spawn! And my girlfriend's on birth control, so let's just say things of importance happen there, not spawn. I'm too queer to be a breeder, but not queer enough to play with the boys. I know, I know. God made me this way. If only there was something I could do to remove this curse...but let's not go there today.
I know, I'm not modest here, I don't have to be. I am being silly, too. And I am hungry, so I will leave this library (where something of importance is spawning) for the kitchen (where something of importance will spawn).
As for what I'm going to do with my life, I'm going to drive home, make some tortellini, maybe drink some wine, get to page 60 in this novel, play a video game, and who knows what else, but I'm going to enjoy it. I've been working my ass off, except for last night, I need to take it easy, on my own. God bless America.
Maybe my cousin will make 40-60K CEOing the company that Trader Joe's imports their tortellini from.
Nah...
I don't think any of their products come from Canada.
distracted, so I'm here
Trying to read Dostoevsky but I keep getting distracted so I'll write my notes from above ground in my bourgeois universe here. Fell asleep to the looping DVD menu music from Speed. Woke up hungover in a sleeping bag in my friend's now furnished apartment. Drove my car half a mile so I wouldn't have to walk across campus to the library. Emailed the principal of the local middle school again, asking that if he hadn't chosen his math/reading tutors yet - he should choose me because I'm experienced at tutoring my peers, have a passion for learning and education and want to (try) sharing it with my community for $12 an hour if I'm lucky, and that I enjoy the presence of children. Only one of those claims is true. Sold 3 shares of some winning ETF in my Roth IRA. I want to call the brokerage and see if I can transfer some of that money to my individual account (which is empty) so I can put some riskier stocks in there. That stock is ONVI, if you're curious. The last time I tried doing that was with WAMU and my coworkers laughed at me when they went bankrupt. Only lost $50. Maybe I'll playing the market on Scottrade the same way Dostoevsky played cards during his 10 year prison sentence. If you wish to quantify it, perhaps I'll do better since I'm half his age when he wrote Notes, it's only a quarter as cold in my city than in Siberia, and although since I've only suffered a sixteenth of what he's endured, my writing will only end up a twohundred-fiftysixth in quality. I wish my school offered some sort of pre-Soviet GULAG literary enhancement program.
"...the most intense pleasures occur in despair, especially when you're very acutely aware of the hopelessness of your own predicament."
I wish my girlfriend wasn't so passive, maybe then she could break my heart and I'll become transposed with the gift of quality writing! But there is some weird situation where I actually WANT her to fuck someone else. It's confusing and stressful, and I'll get into it another time. Has there ever been some sort of story where a character tries to encourage his/her sig. other to have an affair?
"...the most intense pleasures occur in despair, especially when you're very acutely aware of the hopelessness of your own predicament."
I wish my girlfriend wasn't so passive, maybe then she could break my heart and I'll become transposed with the gift of quality writing! But there is some weird situation where I actually WANT her to fuck someone else. It's confusing and stressful, and I'll get into it another time. Has there ever been some sort of story where a character tries to encourage his/her sig. other to have an affair?
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
i am here
the bit of ephedrine i took this morning certainly roused me, woke me, took me to school on top, but now it's making me a bit tweaky. i'll have to pipe down in language class if I don't want to look like a fool. after class I'll need to get to that paper, but there isn't much I need to really write, I must simply pull quotes and examples from Mr. Turgenev's and Mr. Gogol's work. Russian literature is nice. I suppose this may jeopardize my identity, but at this point, I don't really care. I am so happy to have a record of all these miserable, fleeting thoughts that make me proud to be human, thankful to be alive. I want to live to be 100 so I can witness all the changes in our society. Someone asked me what AutoTune would be considered three hundred years from now and I had more trouble grasping the idea of three hundred years from now than the rest of his question and couldn't offer a decent answer. three hundred years ago we had slavery in the americas, serfdom abroad, a time before nationalism, with just romanticism flourishing in europe, attempting to rear its head in russia, typhus, TB, syphilis, prostitution and opium wars, but still a nascent beauty that lingers today in the countryside, untouched by industry.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
restored faith
It was so lovely speaking with R yesterday. I loved hearing about what he was writing. He was writing a thousand words a day with no problem, his completed NaNoWriMo acted as the source code for his novel in progress. It involves Greek mythos in imagined, modern characters. One thing that came up, he told me, when he was younger, he was far more critical of his work, and now he can just "let go". And before it was more autobiographical, and now he is happy to write about real characters from a third person perspective. Perhaps it's easy to write about what hasn't actually happened after writing a bit more about what has actually happened. I need to write more about my accounts with Elaine and Carolyn. Oh boy. He restored my faith, just listening to me let out about what I'm passionate about - misadventures!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The girl is ill!
The girl is mad, I say. She wallows in a depression that pulls her into a sense of slack which makes her angry at herself for being tardy to rise, being late to class. It is a vicious cycle that makes her appear ill, as she doesn't dress for appearances when she feels this way, and I am hesitant to criticize her as I don't want her to fall into the illness any deeper. I do not like to see her like this. She is slow and seems dim-witted. She doesn't respond to all inquiries made toward her, and keeps her head low. To me, she seems truly pathetic. Who could love such a sad creature?
But I have been that way in the past and can't help to acknowledge it, albeit only to myself, within my own memory. Though the girl tends to ruminate in her depression, she focuses on why she feels the way she does, and this does little good, while I tend to distract myself until I am able to realize I don't have it all that bad.
I tried to comfort and sympathize with her, but I felt pushed away by the demon lurking in her skull. It is distressing, and although I made her laugh for a moment, it did little for her, and just made me irritated. But as we were in class, I did little that might upset my strong, healthy reputation. Though, if we were alone, there wouldn't be much else I could do. I wanted to get away from her. She went home early and got away from everyone.
Once class was over, I spoke with the few of our friends and they asked me, "What have you done to the poor girl?" While I was bothered by this, I didn't react and told the truth, "I don't know, what did YOU do to her?" She complained and cried about her wet sneakers, as she didn't have time to find her boots in the morning, as she was rushed. Poor thing. First-world problem. That's not the core of the issue. That is petty. That doesn't drive people into the upset she is facing.
Only time will tell.
But I have been that way in the past and can't help to acknowledge it, albeit only to myself, within my own memory. Though the girl tends to ruminate in her depression, she focuses on why she feels the way she does, and this does little good, while I tend to distract myself until I am able to realize I don't have it all that bad.
I tried to comfort and sympathize with her, but I felt pushed away by the demon lurking in her skull. It is distressing, and although I made her laugh for a moment, it did little for her, and just made me irritated. But as we were in class, I did little that might upset my strong, healthy reputation. Though, if we were alone, there wouldn't be much else I could do. I wanted to get away from her. She went home early and got away from everyone.
Once class was over, I spoke with the few of our friends and they asked me, "What have you done to the poor girl?" While I was bothered by this, I didn't react and told the truth, "I don't know, what did YOU do to her?" She complained and cried about her wet sneakers, as she didn't have time to find her boots in the morning, as she was rushed. Poor thing. First-world problem. That's not the core of the issue. That is petty. That doesn't drive people into the upset she is facing.
Only time will tell.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
back in school now, my letter to popular career blogger
Dear XXX,
My name is Marcus Nagelberg. I'm going to stop there and tell you that I didn't realize how long this email would become, but I've written much of what needed to be written about me, but I can assure you, that every word of it is important because it comes from the heart! I am writing this covertly because it's an important use of my time, and I respect how accessible your email address is on your blog. That matters to me, as it shows you are willing to listen!
I'm a student at XXXXXXXX, a non-traditional, liberal arts college, as well as an employee for a startup called XXXXXX.org, although I've been spending a number of paid hours reading your old blog posts. I enjoyed what you said about Tim Feriss - all I got out of his 4-hour work week book was that, if I have my own business at some point, I can pay people in India to tie my shoes for me, but, as I have learned working my current job, they can't tell you if you're not respecting your employees.
So, I live in sort of a rich dad, poor dad scenario, although I lack much guidance from the rich dad. My father, my "poor dad" who is currently in grad school for an MFA in theatre arts, (he wants to direct, produce, and/or teach professional theatre) loves me, cares for me, and since my wealthy grandfather passed last year, is able to help me pay for school out of state, thank God.
But the best advice he can give me, as I go to school in XXXXXX - and he lives in suburban XXXX, where I was born and raised - is how to be an employee. It sounds like slave morality - "Do a good job, impress your boss, and maybe he'll keep you around and give you more responsibilities." I don't want to live my life like that. Though I'm doing it now, because I'm just getting started and want to absorb as much knowledge as I can and I must support myself while in college. But I'm very fortunate to learn at the ripe age of 21, that as interested as I am in social media, internet technology, and small business, I don't want to work in an office for the rest of my life.
It has been my understanding, that what many people have studied in their formal education is largely different from their career and/or vocational work. So, I have made decisions with my education to study what is best learned in an academic environment (current emphasis on Russian and Eurasian history, literature, language, and culture) and learn more lucrative things from jobs and internships. I am beginning to think I have made some poor choices. Well, probably not, seeing as I'm only 21. I don't want to get any older. Mentally, I feel 35. I want to be young and virile forever. But that's another story.
I just spent this Christmas with my Aunt and Uncle and their two sons and my second cousin. My uncle is very wealthy and is able to support his hobby of collecting and storing Corvettes. He has a passion for these cars like I have a passion for literature and music, but he knows he can't make much money from Corvettes, so he makes money via other means to support his hobby. He dropped out of college and developed a piece of software for mining engineers and sold it and made millions, and will probably start a new business this year to create a 2.0 version of the software and market it through the website. But the point is, he figured it out, he had a plan and went for it.
My argument is that he couldn't have done it all himself. He had his colleagues, his old coworkers from his old firm, his network to pool investors from. That he didn't come up with his plan until it crept up on him. And that's what I'm getting to. His son, my cousin, is graduating with a business degree from some Christian private college and my uncle is confident that he'll get a job paying $50-70K right away, as the economy is great in Calgary (where they are), and that they are looking for people like him. But does he really have a plan? He's student body president, people like him, possibly a natural leader, etc. I don't think he has a plan. He's just pretty and privileged and has a wealthy father to give him all the advice and connections he'll ever need. I don't have those things. I have to find them all myself.
I spent nearly two years as a paid, part-time intern and researcher at a social media marketing startup that blossomed in Los Angeles and expanded to NY and London. Of course, as an employee, my hourly rate never reflected the company's success. I couldn't get a promotion, as I was part-time. But I learned a hell of a lot and got some great referrals. I should do more to keep in touch.
Now I work at another small business. It started off great this summer, and I've been out of the house at 7 or 8am, either for school or work. I bust my ass more than any of my friends do. And the pay is good for this small city, better than I'd probably get anywhere else, part-time, as a literature/history student. But I'm really starting to hate the office environment. My job responsibilities have changed, like, every 6 weeks, there's weird structures and chains of command that elicit the worst in some people's personalities. And for some reason, my title is "Project Manager". That'll look good on a resume. I just don't know where I'd apply. I love working with computers, just not in a room with other people who I feel want to eat my brains when I die. And I find it truly sickening to see people more loyal to their superiors than the people they manage. My father worked in a place like this for longer than I've been alive to support his former wife, me, and to pay our mortgage. I should note that it's nowhere near getting paid off and costs more than the house is worth.
And I don't want to be a lifer, either. The other lady who used to manage me (until she took over my projects) has no life outside of this company. She recently went back to get her college degree and has been here a month longer than I have. I bet I could do her job and make good money, but I don't want to be consumed. She gets calls and emails from our director at home, on weekends. She'll come in at 7, leave at 3, but go home to do more work. She puts in a lot of hours, but she really needs to get laid. I agree with you, it does a lot more for a person getting laid once a week than once a month. I think I'm gonna go steady with this girl just because of what you said. (She comes back from Texas today, hooray!)
But it's also a really great site! It is ... XXXXXX. But please don't say anything about it or my boss will find out and kill me. But it's going places. We're the {description and ranking}! It's amazing. I wholeheartedly recommend it. The job isn't that bad, I just want to dick around a lot. I ask myself how much has changed since I was hired, and in some senses, a lot, and in some senses, not fucking much. My projects have certainly changed, and I've been "disciplined" too. It doesn't really matter now, but I'm just here to pay my bills. I've taken in some alternative measures, in "reassessing my core beliefs" and some yogi maxims and mumbo jumbo, but I just feel like shit here and I can't help it! The only thing I'm trying to do different is outside the office is, read your blog, start Tweeting and following interesting (career/academically) people on Twitter and I'm emailing the heads of Rotary clubs in my area because they might offer me some networking opportunities. I want to start my own thing. I just don't know what. But the issue is, where do I go from here? Compile a list of my interests and see what I can pursue to make money?
I want to travel, I want to live abroad. I'm learning that I love history. And I love literature. I think it's really important. I love Bukowski, Bronte, Plath, Camus, Wilde, Gogol and many other dead people's works. I'm learning Russian, I want to go to Russia and learn Russian. Why? Because it's a badass language. But I used to think that I'm ahead of my liberal arts colleagues at my liberal arts college with my vocational background, but I'm starting to doubt it as I really don't have much of a plan. I really trust my Uncle, my rich dad on this one. But I think I need to go out and see the world more in order to build one. I feel, on one hand I need to go out into the world, post-collegiate, bump around a bit, and then I'll be able to get a better perspective of what plan I can focus on. On the other hand, my uncle believes I need to have a plan now, while I'm in school, and follow up immediately afterward with some sort of career.
Please advise.
Your fan,
Marcus Nagelberg
My name is Marcus Nagelberg. I'm going to stop there and tell you that I didn't realize how long this email would become, but I've written much of what needed to be written about me, but I can assure you, that every word of it is important because it comes from the heart! I am writing this covertly because it's an important use of my time, and I respect how accessible your email address is on your blog. That matters to me, as it shows you are willing to listen!
I'm a student at XXXXXXXX, a non-traditional, liberal arts college, as well as an employee for a startup called XXXXXX.org, although I've been spending a number of paid hours reading your old blog posts. I enjoyed what you said about Tim Feriss - all I got out of his 4-hour work week book was that, if I have my own business at some point, I can pay people in India to tie my shoes for me, but, as I have learned working my current job, they can't tell you if you're not respecting your employees.
So, I live in sort of a rich dad, poor dad scenario, although I lack much guidance from the rich dad. My father, my "poor dad" who is currently in grad school for an MFA in theatre arts, (he wants to direct, produce, and/or teach professional theatre) loves me, cares for me, and since my wealthy grandfather passed last year, is able to help me pay for school out of state, thank God.
But the best advice he can give me, as I go to school in XXXXXX - and he lives in suburban XXXX, where I was born and raised - is how to be an employee. It sounds like slave morality - "Do a good job, impress your boss, and maybe he'll keep you around and give you more responsibilities." I don't want to live my life like that. Though I'm doing it now, because I'm just getting started and want to absorb as much knowledge as I can and I must support myself while in college. But I'm very fortunate to learn at the ripe age of 21, that as interested as I am in social media, internet technology, and small business, I don't want to work in an office for the rest of my life.
It has been my understanding, that what many people have studied in their formal education is largely different from their career and/or vocational work. So, I have made decisions with my education to study what is best learned in an academic environment (current emphasis on Russian and Eurasian history, literature, language, and culture) and learn more lucrative things from jobs and internships. I am beginning to think I have made some poor choices. Well, probably not, seeing as I'm only 21. I don't want to get any older. Mentally, I feel 35. I want to be young and virile forever. But that's another story.
I just spent this Christmas with my Aunt and Uncle and their two sons and my second cousin. My uncle is very wealthy and is able to support his hobby of collecting and storing Corvettes. He has a passion for these cars like I have a passion for literature and music, but he knows he can't make much money from Corvettes, so he makes money via other means to support his hobby. He dropped out of college and developed a piece of software for mining engineers and sold it and made millions, and will probably start a new business this year to create a 2.0 version of the software and market it through the website. But the point is, he figured it out, he had a plan and went for it.
My argument is that he couldn't have done it all himself. He had his colleagues, his old coworkers from his old firm, his network to pool investors from. That he didn't come up with his plan until it crept up on him. And that's what I'm getting to. His son, my cousin, is graduating with a business degree from some Christian private college and my uncle is confident that he'll get a job paying $50-70K right away, as the economy is great in Calgary (where they are), and that they are looking for people like him. But does he really have a plan? He's student body president, people like him, possibly a natural leader, etc. I don't think he has a plan. He's just pretty and privileged and has a wealthy father to give him all the advice and connections he'll ever need. I don't have those things. I have to find them all myself.
I spent nearly two years as a paid, part-time intern and researcher at a social media marketing startup that blossomed in Los Angeles and expanded to NY and London. Of course, as an employee, my hourly rate never reflected the company's success. I couldn't get a promotion, as I was part-time. But I learned a hell of a lot and got some great referrals. I should do more to keep in touch.
Now I work at another small business. It started off great this summer, and I've been out of the house at 7 or 8am, either for school or work. I bust my ass more than any of my friends do. And the pay is good for this small city, better than I'd probably get anywhere else, part-time, as a literature/history student. But I'm really starting to hate the office environment. My job responsibilities have changed, like, every 6 weeks, there's weird structures and chains of command that elicit the worst in some people's personalities. And for some reason, my title is "Project Manager". That'll look good on a resume. I just don't know where I'd apply. I love working with computers, just not in a room with other people who I feel want to eat my brains when I die. And I find it truly sickening to see people more loyal to their superiors than the people they manage. My father worked in a place like this for longer than I've been alive to support his former wife, me, and to pay our mortgage. I should note that it's nowhere near getting paid off and costs more than the house is worth.
And I don't want to be a lifer, either. The other lady who used to manage me (until she took over my projects) has no life outside of this company. She recently went back to get her college degree and has been here a month longer than I have. I bet I could do her job and make good money, but I don't want to be consumed. She gets calls and emails from our director at home, on weekends. She'll come in at 7, leave at 3, but go home to do more work. She puts in a lot of hours, but she really needs to get laid. I agree with you, it does a lot more for a person getting laid once a week than once a month. I think I'm gonna go steady with this girl just because of what you said. (She comes back from Texas today, hooray!)
But it's also a really great site! It is ... XXXXXX. But please don't say anything about it or my boss will find out and kill me. But it's going places. We're the {description and ranking}! It's amazing. I wholeheartedly recommend it. The job isn't that bad, I just want to dick around a lot. I ask myself how much has changed since I was hired, and in some senses, a lot, and in some senses, not fucking much. My projects have certainly changed, and I've been "disciplined" too. It doesn't really matter now, but I'm just here to pay my bills. I've taken in some alternative measures, in "reassessing my core beliefs" and some yogi maxims and mumbo jumbo, but I just feel like shit here and I can't help it! The only thing I'm trying to do different is outside the office is, read your blog, start Tweeting and following interesting (career/academically) people on Twitter and I'm emailing the heads of Rotary clubs in my area because they might offer me some networking opportunities. I want to start my own thing. I just don't know what. But the issue is, where do I go from here? Compile a list of my interests and see what I can pursue to make money?
I want to travel, I want to live abroad. I'm learning that I love history. And I love literature. I think it's really important. I love Bukowski, Bronte, Plath, Camus, Wilde, Gogol and many other dead people's works. I'm learning Russian, I want to go to Russia and learn Russian. Why? Because it's a badass language. But I used to think that I'm ahead of my liberal arts colleagues at my liberal arts college with my vocational background, but I'm starting to doubt it as I really don't have much of a plan. I really trust my Uncle, my rich dad on this one. But I think I need to go out and see the world more in order to build one. I feel, on one hand I need to go out into the world, post-collegiate, bump around a bit, and then I'll be able to get a better perspective of what plan I can focus on. On the other hand, my uncle believes I need to have a plan now, while I'm in school, and follow up immediately afterward with some sort of career.
Please advise.
Your fan,
Marcus Nagelberg
Monday, January 3, 2011
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