my recent failures

I've failed a lot in the past 60 days. Here are my most recent formal rejections:

My recent failures

I failed to be accepted as a reading tutor for the local middle school.
I failed to be accepted as a volunteer for the local crisis clinic.
I failed to be accepted as an office manager for the Washingont Student Association.
I failed to be accepted as an internet search rater for LeapForce Consulting.
I failed to be accepted as an internet search rater for LionBridge Consulting.

i'm still at the shitty job I don't care about, that has mysteriously gotten shittier.
the things I do for money...

money

So, somehow, I'm low on money. Car repair was part of it, but I make about $1K a month at this job, and my rent is $305...so how can I be low on money? Some of it goes to school and books, but not a majority of it. Something has to give. Anyway, tomorrow I'll hear back about this internet job. I heard about it on the internet. I passed the first theoretical test and will find out the results about the practical test. But I hear they're sticklers with the time clock. Here I can somewhat extent time safely. But since this part-time gig is completely online, they know exactly how much time you spend per task. And the job consists of completing a bunch of little tasks. I'll just have to see, but if it's not terrible, it may provide an extra $400 a month or so. I may either invest this into an individual (not retirement) account and buy common stock, or just put it into savings. Next quarter I want to get a Stafford loan and live off that, instead of this stupid job. And I need to file my taxes, and it should be a pretty good bonus because...I'm technically independent, though my grandfather's money went to pay for my school. Hope it works out. Hope I can properly manage it, too.

making the rent, breaking the date?

Well somehow, I'm still hitting 37 hours this pay period despite skipping president's day, and hardly doing anything on Thursday, where our city was hit with roughly 5-6 inches of snow. Maybe because I'm counting today, where I inflated my workday by about half an hour. That's all done.

I'm gonna make rent! Now I just have to hang out here and look busy for another six hours, and I'll be free to work on that paper...or get some rest. I stayed up late last night but had a lot of fun. I decided to kick it old-school and smoke up campfire style. I laid under both of my blankets and ensured there was no way for light or air to pass through, and smoked the rest of the bowl I had loaded. Then I layed out, listening to the dreampop and constant whirr of my room's heater in the background. Does well to smudge out the background noises and voices downstairs. I want to edit some of the blog post I wrote last night. It felt like I had something going on there, but I'm going to bet most of it was hufflepuff. But I felt so energized last night!

Flirting does that to you. At that concert last night I thought a lot about my relationship, and how I could rationalize cheating on my girlfriend as this is my first real relationship, I'm allowed some...trial and error. That's cute. That's a real cute excuse. But I'd still be the shit head in the situation.

But it would be empowering. Dostoevsky wrote in the Possessed about how suicide was man's ultimate expression of autonomy against God, well I suppose consciously cheating is the same thing for a relationship. Or I could just tell her the truth after the fact and see what would become of it. Honestly, I think she wouldn't be strong enough to dump me for it. Maybe she would just shun me for a few days, be broken hearted, then I'd saunter in, make some "cute" jokes, and win her back.

I was also thinking, how would I feel if she cheated on me? And I think it would just make me want to have her more, as it would bring recognition to its (the relationship's) ultimate fleetingness. Neither of us are going to stay together forever, so what difference does it make? But I also recognize what's wrong with this situation. Don't fuck with a sensitive girl's feelings. Don't do it, don't hurt her, she doesn't deserve that.


Hmm.. OK. So I can cheat on her, and as long as she doesn't find out, it's OK. No! That's even worse. I'd lose the virtue of candour and I couldn't actually say I "acted in my fullest autonomy to defy the boundaries of the relationship." But that's silly, stupidly more philosophical than I analyze anything I do, and is rationally superfluous to think about it like that. But that's all I'm doing, overthinking what I probably won't do. I might just be hitting that wall again, when I was first hesitant to be part of this entity. Committment vs non-committment. Well, I'll let you guys know what happens. Not that I really have a choice anyway.

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.

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?

messing with destiny?

More conflict and confusion regarding the big move. I'm afraid of debt. Shouldn't I be? How much can my family contribute? Let's see. There's Tara&Randy, Grandpa, Kayla&Michael, Rona&Bob...if I can get a 10K loan from each of them, I'd be much better off. Tuition is due each quarter. It's like $5K a quarter. I knew it was expensive but my financial aid awards might not even come in until the beginning of the year because I applied later than usual. I'm going out of my fucking mind. I have no other choice. I have to leave. Or go broke. I need this though. So much. If the family could just loan it to me...

time

should could would volunteer over the summer. if not travel. but i want to make money...or do i? what about psychic income? what about getting more writing material? that might be a better use of my time.
class struggles throughout history, marx, engels, nietsche try to depict them
I could work with the elderly and steal their drugs and listen to their stories. Maybe i could teach english in some foreign country. Do I want to do that? Possibly. Need a job. Summer classes would get in the way of that. Helping old jewish people. helping old mexican people. old black people. old german people. Something to get me out of the house.

Problem

I think I have a problem. I will do anything to stay in bed. I called in and said I'd be coming in a little later to do errands. I laid in longer. It felt so good and I couldn't help myself. Every 10 minutes I'd check the time and stay cozy for a little longer. It's been a real problem for me. And, the first thing that people would think is, oh, just go to bed earlier. I get 8 hours of sleep either way! But I noticed that an hour later...I was feeling like I didn't want to lie there anymore. And I only stayed because I knew I'd get up at 9:40. Between 9:20 and 9:40 I felt restless. Maybe, for my age I just have to go to bed a little earlier after all?

It's just that...there's never enough hours in the day. Maybe I'm just not making the most out of them. I don't want to end up 30 and alone. Or 40 and broke. Or 50 and suicidal. I'll try going to bed earlier. Maybe I just need 9 hours of sleep.

Let me tell you about the stories that hang over my head

There were two men who never met or ever will meet, but they grew up during the great depression on their families' meager farmlands. One left at 18 with nothing but his clothes and his last couple of dollars and set out to never be poor again. The other went to the Colorado School of Mines and had the same mindset, just not as public about it. After some time, with much labor and effort, they sat upon their wealth, lived in nice homes, and shared with the families they brought forth. Now they are sick and dying.
They both had a son, each of them, and other children too but all that matters is the fact that both men had a son. One of these sons would become my father. The other, my good friend's adoptive father. These two sons, of the now elderly men lived and currently live more modest lives, more stressed and difficult lives, with less effort on their careers a possible factor, as well as many others.

Moral of the story: I'm willing to work, but need direction. I don't know if the great depression can mirror the economic crisis we're facing now, but it's a hell of a motivation to go to college. I just need a better plan...
I want to be like my grandfather, just without as much of an effort on starting a family. i come first.