so.

few things of note. just things i wish to gripe about. although today maybe the day i sold something, i was reminded that unless i can set 10 appointments per week [minimum], and not fluff appointments, i wouldnt be selling copiers for RK Dixon in 6 months.

nothing like a smack in the face to start the day. i guess im bitching about where the fuck im supposed to come up with 40 interested parties in the next few weeks. they sure as hell arent in iowa city. or anywhere else ive been to. these appointments only count once. once! then im supposed to have 5 more a week where im doing a proposal, actually writting a bid and discussing it. then i should be closing 2 deals per week. thats at the point where people are saying yes, or no, and walking away with a copier. per week. its insane. i dont even see the good reps managing that on a consistent basis. besides. i cant even come up with 10 pepople to set appointments with. maybe i wont be doing this in 6 months after all.

christmas cards went out today. i think i did 30. or just short of it. i tried to cover most people id somewhat stay in contact with. those that didnt seem to want to give me an address, dont get one. and i think thats pretty fair. if im going to take the time to sit and write out 30 cards, spend about 3 bucks per card including postage.... plus my time. you can cough up 10 seconds for an address. so no gripes from people that dont get them. but the whole process made me feel old. christ. im sending out christmas cards, it should make me feel old. im getting cards with pictures of kids and weddings and things like that. i really should feel old. im not 18 anymore, and thats for sure. its about time i moved on from that.

had a weird dream last night. i woke up going, what the hell was that about. i wake up in bed. its in a strange room... or atleast something i dont recognize now. anyways, i can see a light on in a hall way through the open bedroom door. so i get up. i walk down the hall. and in a bathroom i find a certain someone. shes naked accept from some tiny white panties... no bra no shirt, nothing else on. and shes sweating. her hair is a mess... and shes half standing, half hugging the toilet. i walk in and hear myself talk, asking whats going on. and she looks at me. up with those bright eyes, and they are all red. tears streaming down her face. some leftover makeup is running with it. she just has that look of "help me" and i get down on the floor with her, and cover her with a bath towel from the bar over her head. and i just hold her. she clings to me. shes sobbing. and so am i. shes crying and appologizing and saying all kinds of inaudiable things. i listen to my voice say to her her that i love her. that she and i will make it. i see myself reach down and wipe her tears away, and smooth the hair back from her face. she just clings to me tighter as i look at her. and the two of us just sit there crying in the bathroom. somehow. and i dont know why shes in there. i dont ever look and see if shes thrown up in the toilet or not. but somehow it feels like a drug use thing. like shes abusing. and its like i know about it. but in a way, it makes me stay, even though in my head im thinking i should leave. i stay for her. even though its quite a scene. its bizare. its not something i understand. i just have no idea where it came from. or what a dream like that i supposed to mean.

Guided Tour.... part 2






walking through a doorway by IT and through a short hall leaves me here... looking into the spacious demo room... complete with cube divders for some reason.










this is the Canon ImageRunner c3220. with duplexing autodocument feeder [daf k1], shown also with ledger sized saddle stitching unit [finisher N2]... this is the machine thats supposed to make me my millions. it runs full color at 32 pages per minute... and ball park as pictured, could sell for about $35,000 in US currency. god bless free market society!










to the left is the Canon CLC 1140. thats Color Laser Copier for you whom dont care! it runs at the impressive speed of 11 color pages per minute... well it was impressive 8 years ago. or more. i hate this thing. it actually costs more to print on both sides. its slow. stuff looks like shit on it. and its still expensive. i hate it. but its sitting there, thinking im going to sell it.


and thats really it. imagine a room with about 15 more copiers in it. thats the demo room. of the equipment in there, i cant even sell half of it due to brand and territory restrictions. only canon. sigh. the only other brand i can sell is...










Riso! while the unconcsious eye might call these copier, youd have to be rediculously burnt out on meth, to realize they arent! yay for complications! these machines actually are alot more in common with silk screening tshirt places than they have in common with a copier. copiers use electrostatically charged colored dust [toner] and attract it to an oppositely charged rotating area [a drum], that the paper picks up then the dust is melted on the page [in the fuser] to create a copy. riso products, make a negative screen of the image you want [on sheet, from a roll, of paper that feels like wax paper], perferates the areas for coloration, then forces liquid ink through the holes onto a page... something like blowing your nose on a kleenax with a hole in it, leaves the snot on your hands. this leaves us with a one color screened print of the original. its cheap. its fast [150 pages per minute fast]. .... but its limited on colors [each color needs a separate screen, then you have to make sure the areas register together correctly], and you cant make this go fast if you are doing a book of 3 pages. with the riso, the master is permanently trashed when you scan the next item. on a copier, it would just instantly apply static cling to a different spot. figure the price of a master is about 30 cents or something. it makes a very expensive, and poor quality copier. but a cheap and effective duplicator for simple projects. so. riso. yeah. thats them. i can sell them too.

A Partial Guided Tour...

partial, only because its hard not to look suspicious running around taking pictures on my palm... using my camera would just look really silly... so.











this is my cube. i sit here. just not very often. see, i was told "yeah, well youll have a desk here in the office, but we just never want to see you in it" on my first day. charming. and about 2 days per week thats held up. i dont have alot of stuff. my craptastic computer, phone, stuff on how to use the phone, two pictures, maps, and random shit im working on. pretty boring.














a look to the left of me. more cubes. nothing much to see.














a look to the right of me. more cubes. nothing else much to see. just note all the shit sticking up. the document team tends to LIVE in their cubes it seems...














this is a coworkers desk in document sales... note. my space doesnt look like this at all...











this is behind me... my cube opens onto the main drag. so everyone comes by and looks at me while im working. i hate it. atleast i can turn around and see the windows, even if i cant see out them. random copier and shit for me to use.












this is another random desk... you could never tell we sell copiers huh? its pathetic.

ManRam...

on the Red Sox offical site, i noticed a new piece of news... according to David Ortiz...

"Manny is not returning to Boston," Ortiz told The Associated Press. "Manny lives a difficult situation that only he and his family know about, and he does not want to play there."

the rest of the article didnt have much else to say about the reasoning why this was, nor any more information about what it is.... but from that one quote, id have to wager that Ortiz and Manny's family know something... not to suggest that he is... or that hes any less of a ballplayer... or that i want manny gone... because i sure as hell dont... i wonder out loud if it could be something like the gay card.

boston is a very talkative town, but its also a very catholic town. a very unchanging traditional sense of moralistic appearance. and drunken senators that drive women off bridges. however. this whole "his family knows" and how its some sort of secret... makes me wonder. Manny has mentioned he wants out of boston, something in florida or the west coast... how about miami or san fran? makes me wonder

so i want to write a long and windy post about whats going on in my head... i want to take alot of time to sort out what i think and what i feel and see if they are two different pictures.

but i have the feeling they are.

for along time, ive only wanted one thing; a meaningful semi permanent reciprocal relationship. and its just something i cant find. i cant find anyone that wants me. i cant find anyone that wants that. i cant find anyone that even wants to screw around with the idea of that and me. i cant find much at all.

and i say im stupid, because i am. im probably... no. i am the fucking stupidest person in the world, without reservation. i want something so bad, that will never happen, i hope that any chance is my chance. and im so stupid i just never want to realize that my chance is never going to happen. being stupid, i run out and try. i fucking try my hardest. i try so hard to have someone see me and take me serious. i try to be the exemplification of how id want to be treated. i try so hard to get anyone to like me, that im too stupid to realize... they never will.

i care about a girl. i desparately would like to see something happen with her. but. im very stupid. im so stupid that i guess ive never stopped to look at it as it is. she doesnt want anything to do with me. she never has. and i was just so stupid, that i kept telling myself, maybe. i kept giving myself some line of horseshit about how it could be different. or something about how it could happen. i was too stupid to look at the truth;

: no one wants someone like me :

sending flowers doesnt change that. being attentive cant help it. trying your god damndest to make something work, for once, with one person you are attracted to, doesnt mean you get anywhere. its just means youre stupid. youre fucking dumb. youre a joke. people laugh at you. people think youre an idiot because you keep bashing your head into that wall... over and over and over again.

i feel worthless. because i am. i am. i have to be. who the hell else could be as stupid as i am. who else would try to be something for someone that they damn well know cant ever amount to anything for anyone. its stupid. its stupid to try. its stupid to laugh. its stupid to want. its stupid to care. its stupid to desire. its stupid to need. its stupid to hope. its stupid to want someone to love. its stupid to believe in it all.

she didnt have to tell me anything. maybe i just had everything i needed to understand it along time ago. maybe i wasnt smart enough to get it, because i was busy being stupid. and while i will never rescind any thing i said about her, nor will i ever deny that anything ive thought about her. its stupid of me to think anyone cares about what i think. its pointless. its rejection that doesnt even need a reaction. its assumed. if i wasnt so stupid, i should have seen it.

i should have seen alot of things if i wasnt as stupid as i was. maybe the first time a girl made fun of me. maybe the first time i never got picked to be in the make-believe dance at recess. maybe the age when i realize everyone had 5th grade girlfriends writing them notes, except me. maybe when i got to junior high, and all my friends were going to dances and i had to sit bymyself. maybe when i got to high school and girls ditched me at homecoming as a prank. maybe when i thought that one girl was interested that went on to throw food at me. maybe when i felt like finally the hot girl in school was being nice to me as part of a prank they pulled. maybe when i had to ask 5 girls to prom to have everyone of them tell me no. maybe when i got out of highschool and tried to have a relationship with a girl that slept around. or maybe when i thought i knew it all who cried and screamed when she found out i wanted to do things. or the girl that took my heart, walked out on me and told me i was fucking piece of trash. or the one that smiles at me years later, that seemed so much like me that i never noticed her until almost a year later. maybe she was the girl that inspired me to finish school finally, or to want to make me fall in love again. maybe i should have learned something before it all got to this point.

but im much too stupid to have realized any of it. im much too stupid to have never stopped and thought that someone like her actually would have wanted anything to do with me. it was a stupid thought. by a pathetic person that clutches at straws to save himself. it feels stupid that im sitting here thinking about why someone is so perfect in my mind, who is so interesting, so fun to be around, ... its stupid to sit and think i might have had a chance. appearantly everyone but me knew this all along. but i kept trying. i kept wanting. i kept telling my heart and whispering every thing that i saw to her. it was stupid person doing what every girl always says she wants. its not very stupid to see she just didnt want me.

after all these years now. its stupid to believe anything else but the truth. that i was too stupid to give up. and now it sits and kills me for being so stupid.

so i like totally met my soul mate at a frat kegger last night.... [and other rediculous things college girls believe]


. it was like, ... like... like... like.... like. you know?
they believe that the use of comparative interjections in similiee form, somehow give clarity when used without comparison. also. the repetition of such words appearantly is meant to give credibility to speech patterns when discussing events that could be perceived as mundane or false. example- Sooo like, you and Ashton, are you like together, or like, seeing each other, or what, because you are like the cutest couple that like anyones seen at the DG house, you know?

. pink ugg boots are soooo cute!
i dont know how. i just dont. but by tight rolling the jeans up over the tops of these ghastly footware, they some how arrive at a status position above other peers. these boots are made of sheepskin and wool fluffed inner boots, and can often be found on the feet of rich girls, and stupid environmentalists [see below]. although most brands are waterproofed, you will never see these in puddles. often worn at stark contrast to outfits, ie black mini skirt with neon pink ugg boots. or lime green top, blue jeans and powderblue ugg boots. again, the status positon in society is only achieved if others appearantly notice that you are wearning them.

. so i think its like, wrong to hurt an animal?
this is a classic misconception among the popularity based segement of the population. while there do infact, exist the rare breed of Collegius Hippo-Retrosian [known commonly as "crunches" or "that hippie chick"] most collegiate women who fall in to the "hurting animals is sad" vein, tend to do so with great maladaptation. often times they are lured to such social positions by curly haired dreamy boys, or similiarly gullible females. they often reject eating meat openly, but will eat it when not surrounded by the pack, or often will introduce beliefs infront of pack members or contesting males, which are unfouned by their own ethos. example- Sam and I were like talking about that the other day, and its totaly wrong to hurt animals we decided! Oh. So you fish? Fishing with my brothers used to be the funnest times! they are often seen wearing sheepskin boots, leather handbags, or in rare cases, hemp clothing.

. so i like totally met my soul mate at a frat kegger last night
this is a longstanding assumption of the modern college female. often times it can be adapted to fit situational dispostion slightly better, as in "i like met The Guy last night at the bar" or "when i was doing a bong with him, i totally felt that connection". as proposterous as it might seem, most college females typically do believe the odds of finding a mate increase while intoxicated or under the influence. sadly, the odds of this are not nearly as high as the college male's chances of finding a mate for the evening are. regardless. the belief professed in the supernatural draw of love and drugs seems to be a consistent feeling among the pack.

so... while my love life might be pathetic... would it get anyworse if i had my boss attempting to give me pointers? fuck.. it would. and it did.

i made the stupid assumption that id be safe to bring in one picture. one. some of these assholes at work have galleries of art... one lady has a shelf [which i use for manuals of copiers i sell for reference] filled with pictures in frames of her kids. so instead of having a more baren space than Vanillia Ice's trophy shelf; i decided to bring in one picture. its next to my instruction on how to get my voice mail [which still doesnt work]. a day later. knock knock. the boss comes patrolling around on the cube farm, and instead of asking me about acconts, or cold calls, or why i didnt dress in a 900 dollar suit; he pokes his finger and says, "who is that, your girlfriend?"

.... this is a delicate situation. i can take two roads to approach it. well three, the third being ignoring it. road one is the subtle explanation, road two is the total down play. i kinda ran between the forks in the road, and gave the subtle down play of the truth.

"no... not unless she decides to change her mind and tell me so"

.... see i thought this was a good move... i never looked up. and it seemed like a dead, brush off comment to state to move past the awkwardness of revealing personal experiences to the Gestapo.

"really... shes pretty man... you really like her then? what happened?"

.... this is now throwing lead baseballs at nuclear reactors. while, the practice is probably harmless... what kind of freaking idiot really thinks its a good idea to try it. now im stuck trying to field that question.

"i asked. she said no. ... yes i do really like her, and yeah i wish she didnt say no."

.... silence. this is the worst part. its like watching a horror flick with mute. while you wince at the gore, its really got no impact without the sound... in this case, its the lack of sound thats ugly and brutal. hes a salesman. im a salesman. we both know that who ever answers silence first, is the loser... so i mutter...

"i think shes just at that stage where she wants to have things her way and be able to do her own thing without any attachments; and im past that stage, so thats what happened i suppose"

.... no silence. he respondes.

"well [clasps hand on my shoulder, still looking at the picture] hang in there kid. give her time. man. she looks wild... is she? woo. just give her that time and shell come around" [then he leaves]

.... really this could have gone worse. i just dont know how. even my own boss thinks im incapable of closing a deal. and this time, its not about a copier. i feel pretty messed up, knowing that people twice my age are looking my pictures, and touching me while they do it. dirty. so very dirty. but the only lingering thought on my mind, is not that; but do i give his advice much credability? its difficult to answer that. so far, i think hes way off base making me cold call on 300 businesses for zero sales... maybe sitting and waiting for her to make a decision she might never want to make, isnt the best idea either. but its the only thing right now, thats really out of my control. that and people signing fat checks over to me for copiers.

the december issue of playboy has a really interesting article about Marilyn Monroe. im trying to type parts of it back as close as i can, but all the credit to the authors for an interesting take on the woman through surviovrs... the itneresting part isnt that she was into enema's, or that she was some sort of sex addict... it was about Joe DiMaggio. non sports people only know him as a temporary husband to her. however, he was one of the top 20 baseball players of all time, who still to this day owns the longest streak of consecutive games with a hit. anyways. being one of the best ballplayers of the age, in his time, meant he was as close as Jesus in notariety among the world. so. he does well enough, fame, success, riches, he also bags the most sexual and beautiful woman of the period as well.

"joe d loves marilyn monroe, and always will. i love him and always will. but joe couldnt stay married to marilyn monroe, the famous movie star. joe has an image in his stuborn italian head of a traditional wife. she would have to be faithful, do what he tells her, devote all of herself to him. doctor, you know thats not me. there is no way i could stop being marilyn monroe and become someone else to save our marriage. it didnt take long before we both realized that and ended our marriage. but we didnt end our love for each other.. any time i need him, joe is there. i couldnt have a better friend." ... in monroe's words to her pyschiatrist

monroe later remarries to author Arthur Miller, which ends in shambles after a few years, and very soon after she ends up dead. most touching of all, comes in the words of Joes neice recollecting the plans, allegedly, of joe and marilyn to remarry...

"all of which raises the question, would a woman who was about to remarry teh love of her life, the only man who was there for her unconditionionally, kill herself on the eve of the wedding? or had she gotten herself into something she wasnt ready for? in the years that followed, joe had a hard time even speaking ofn monroe. he was intensely private to begin with, and engelberg and positano, his two closest friends in teh years before his death, knew never to bring up her name. but always her haunting presence was felt. dimaggio would go into his 'marilyn mood' as some friends called it. ... sometimes he spoke of her funeral -- how he arranged it and banned certain people from attending, particularly [frank]sinatra... he said to positano, 'doc i made sure none of those people who really killed her were there.' says engelberg, 'you know, morris, instead of kissing her at the altar, i had to kiss her in her casket.' engelberg, who was at dimaggios deathbed, says the athletes last words to him were not to feel sad about his dying. 'ill get to see marilyn again' dimaggio said."

you ever get the feeling its not worth talking about problems at home?

see, my parents, while are great, dont do the whole consultive listening situation well. example.

me - "so i just really think this is unfair... im the only rep in the office that has to drive 3 counties to get to my territory that stetches another 3, and they only pay me 250 bucks a month to cover that... its just not fair to come up with 300 dollars for gas over and beyond what everyone else does for the zero dollars [all comp'd] or less"

mom - "well then you just have to pay it!!! "

dad - "claim it for your taxes, you know it could be 40 cents a mile--"

me - "dad, thats not a freaking check; thats deduction off wage earning... meaning it doesnt mean squat if those 40 pennies dont bump me into a lower bracket"

-silence-

mom - "well then stop complaining"

. end .


see? its like they take it as offensive. to them, im supposed to be happy i have this job at a place theyve heard of. they dont really seem to notice im not happy with it, and im loosing more money then im making. and sure. the jeep is not the most practical vehicle i could have bought. but come winter snow piles, three counties of driving with all wheel drive, to get to my three territories of rural, 2 lane and gravel roads to sell in; the jeep was a great purchase. the issue however, was about the equity of a traveling rep, versus a home office rep. which is unfair. not only do the home office reps not have to waste any time driving to get to their appointments [unlike my hour minimum drive], but their mileage probably wont rack up to the magic 1,000 miles a month if its all in davenport. unlike me, who each trip of cold calls nets me 150 miles minimum. minimum i said. thats just to iowa city, drive to locations, drive back to davenport. lets get jiggy with it and say im in washington iowa, an hour south of iowa city... now i add an extra 100 miles on that. each day of cold calling in washington is effectively costing me a tank of gas or more at just short of 300 miles per excursion. i can only do that 3 times in a month, and im out of compensation! where as the reps for in town, see maybe 20 miles as alot of driving in a day of calls... making them do effectively 500 cold calling excursions at the same price... see my bitch? im being penalized with a bigger area, thats farther away, to push business from people that have never heard of us... the in town reps have name recognition, familiarity and ties with the local network, and dont have to do squat for an extra hour each direction. its not fair. but the talk about it tonight turned into me being, appearantly complainy, and juvenile about it. so... if by being conscious of the raping i receive for this; makes me juvenile... then im a Toys R Us Fucking Kid.

several gripes...

. i washed my watch. i felt like such an idiot. i was so mad at myself for not paying attention to it. and while it was only a 9 dollar watch at walmart, i still felt bad about it. this is probably why i dont buy many nice things. id ruin them somehow. so after finding the bits of broken glass face in my clothes, i was thorougly disgusted enough to go out and buy a replacement. a whopping 6.49 at walmart.

. im really at a loss for words. i try as hard as i can to be a good friend. i try to be caring. to be sensitive. to be positive. i guess its just not something anyone wants. im scratching my head over it. sure. i might have feelings for this girl beyond friendship, but i told her, and i mean it, that im willing to wait until shes ready to make that kind of decision. until then, i care about her enough to want to be around her as a close friend. honestly the kind i think she doesnt have many of, that really no one ever does. the kind that its ok to cry in front of... in fact the one thats the first one to show up when you cry. the ultra trustworthy kind you talk with about the things you dont want to tell yourself, and hardly another person. im doing it because i really do believe in her. shes fun. shes a great person, and i just wish id get through. so. the problem? well. after reading about what i did to my watch... you can guess that appearantly ive screwed something up here too. i sent flowers. i thought it was something nice shed appreciate. not only have i [3 days later] not gotten a [quick or any kind of] thank you, but ive gotten the silent treatment when i ask. i just dont get it. i hope shes just really busy. or that something happened to her phone. i really hope its not the "silent game". i tried so hard just to do something nice-- and no one even wants that. its like i manage to mess up doing nice things. i hate that feeling. its worse than guilt. because with guilt, i should feel wrong for what i did do. there shouldnt be any reason for me to feel wrong about what i did this time. none. and here i am, feeling bad.

. i hate these online dating sites. there isnt anything. on 3 different sites, [match.com, eharmony.com, and cupid.com] im not registering ANY matches. match.com does a 100 percent scale... the highest match there is for me; is 42. a 42. i remember reading once in something about modern personality matched dating, that according to their questionaire i was appealing to something like 8% of the population. i really hate this. i know ive complained alot about being lonely lately on this, but man. there isnt even one Half=assed match for me in the land of the internet. how pathetic is that?

. i had a dream last night where i was in bed with a woman. that it wasnt just sex. that it was comforting. that it was consoling. it was... vivid. it felt like the first 13 minutes of a softcore porn flick. it made me wish it wasnt a dream. i remember waking up this morning, and being on my back thinking; why the hell cant that actually happen. and it was a sad realiztion that it doesnt happen. for whatever reason it just shocked me into feeling sad about it. about myself. about the truth. here i am, almost 25 yeras old. and i cant even say i can get a simple bit of dream to happen for myself. and its sad. its so pathetic that i think about it. that i dream about it. that in the back of my mind, i torture myself about it. because it was something so simple. so welcoming. and so much for my dreams.

well if anyone really cares about whats happened to me lately... ive been listening to alot of Diamond Head... and Black Sabbath's Never Say Die album... because they are the only cassettes i can find that i own, and BigRed doesnt have a cd player... for anything else...

. the job has taken up most of my time and energy. i still havent sold anything. i dont really even see any great opportunities to make any money yet. and not that im keeping track, but ive already burnt about 150 bucks in gas driving without seeing a pay check. or a sale. its rough. theyve sent me out doing door to door thinking i can gather information that way. its succeeded in making alot of people really, really mad. so. no sales. yet. im expected to be working before 8am. and should never leave before 5. lately its been about 6. and ive been getting there about 7:30. no overtime pay since im salary. sigh.

. i do love the jeep. except the gas mileage. its hard... i guess i was spoiled with my grand am, getting abotu 30 miles per gallon. now im getting about 20 to 22 on the highway... but a nightmareish 5 to 10 in town sometimes. eesh. and i really was upset when i realized i got 300 miles per tank of gas. not bad, right? well... i was used to 400 on my grand am. no biggie? well... the grand am took 12 gallons to fill. Big Red is about 20. .... sigh. come the first dumping of snow fall this year however, i will feel elated about my purchase. i hope. sigh.

. im surprisingly well adjusted to getting back up in the mornings. i thought it could have been difficult, when for a while, i was not making it up before 11 and noon on some days... coffee helps. but alot of the times, im doing mundane things like email, phone calls, and getting more coffee... with a couple days per week im driving on the road to territory. so. atleast i get to hear Lou and Scott on KRNA again. a plus in my book. even at the minus of being out in bfe in the mornings. sigh.

. i really havent seen anyone lately. i just end up doing the work thing, then coming home, doing more work off the clock, then falling asleep. its a rediculous amount of learing to make it in the first few months... ive got to become almost expert status on the differences of 50 different copiers in days, so that i can deal with customers. then i spen anytime i can relearning sales. most of what ive learned is useless to me in this type of sales. its really fatigued me more than i anticipated. sigh. and yawn.

. i think im afraid of being a left over. if that makes some sense... just a left over all over type person. im not setting records with my sales like everyone else is ... im the only person i know of in the "toner-breath" wing [as IT Sales refers to us] that is under 30... only one other person is under 40... and im the only person in IT and Document to be single, with no kids, under 40... if i try to fudge the numbers, one person in a support person figures in at 30, no kids, no marriage, but engaged... but it adds two other people to us that are over 50 with multiple kids, and multiple marriages... but there is a difference between a late bloomer, and a left over. left overs are like the things you find at the back of the refrigerator and push farther back to find something else. sigh.

. as far as my life, its lonely. i cant lie. i get up. i see my mom go out the door. then i have about 40 minutes to be at work... where i sit in a cube by myself. or drive out on the road by myself and walk around all day alone. come home. usually after everyone ate dinner. reheat cold food, eat by myself. sit on my bed and read shit about copiers until i get so tired i fall asleep that way. its been my life the past couple weeks. i cant remember when i had a phone call, except one night last week with J. my intereactions with people consist of them screaming profanity at me, or hanging up on me mid sentence; or co-workers berating me from across the room, attempting to do it discretely. i wish things were different. i wish i had someone to come home to. i wish i had someone i could talk to when i have rotten days. or brag about good things with. instead... i hope i luck out that i can catch some Cash on the radio or something to sing to on the drive out. sigh.

welcome to my new cell. ill spend approximately 9 hours or more per day, looking at these three walls. and if that wasnt bad enough, there is a window into the cube next to me, that keeps the Screws informed of my doings. nothing like jailhouse snitchery on the first day. anyone else who would like to send me cube paintings or wall art, im happy to post it. right now i have a telephone directory from 2001, and the addresses of the various offices around the area. i have a phone on my desk, though i really dont know what the number is, and worse yet, i found out i dont know how to use it either. oh! i had a spare pc power cable wadded up in the corner! and i got someone's printed at home business card gathering dust. the coffee mug and car keys were furnished by me... as were the random office supplies. grr. more info later. day one is done.

in a few hours, ill be on the job. and its starting to make me nervous. little things like, am i dressed right? can i bring coffee in? where the hell do i actually sit? what am i supposed to do when i walk in the door? when do i get to eat lunch? what the hell am i going to do all day? how am i going to remember anything? sigh. the typical pre-first day jitters.

its alot. its a big change for me. i have to keep telling myself its no longer a job, its now a career. im the youngest by far at what ill do. and according to the vice president at the interview; "were going to take a chance on you." that started to sink in over the weekend. i dont know why. on some level i wonder why im there, i dont really need them to come out and say they wonder too. i dont know. im just hoping i fall asleep tonight, rather than rolling around wondering about everything. i guess in times like these i try to look for comfort things. this time around, there isnt much. the last few jobs ive known someone that work there. not this time. the last few times i knew what to expect. i dont really know this time. the last job had very little to do with me pushing product, and everything with people going to a name... this time, people know the name but they have to come screaming to me to want it. its a stark, white change. so. im bumbling around matching ties to pants and feeling gernearlly manic about something that wont happen until tomorrow. but i am kind of getting nervous about it.

Scott's Vehicle. V.4.0

this is her, yet unnamed, with stickers removed and plates put on!

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yes people, im lonely. get off my back. im not angry. im not suicidal. im fucking lonely. im tired of being single. i hate it. whenver i remind myself of being with someone, it makes me very mad to remember im not now. people take so much for granted in relationships. it seems like, someone like me who doesnt do that, who tries not to miss a beat; never gets the chance. im frustrated. obviously. im tired of getting NO as an answer to anything i ask, when the question is ME. im tired of marking No Guests on tickets and RSVPs. i hate getting looked at because i sit by myself at restaurants on the "date nights" of the week. i feel like im some sort of monster because no women call me or want to talk to me. why cant one girl take me seriously? why isnt there one attractive woman on the face of the earth thats interested in me? why is it that everyone always says, "its not so bad" but never trades places with me, or never bothers to help? how come everyone is so scared to talk to me. how come the only thing worse than talking to me [as a female] is trying to find someone who would be interested in me? how come you cant admit if you have any feelings for me or not? how come its such a sin to be seen with me in public, or have people know you are with me? when the hell does all of this become my turn to get some? to get a person? to get a date? to get a partner? when.

...

i thought id expand on something. tonight i had a coversation with an ex-girlfriends current beau. and id have to say, id never done that. i think in the past when the opportunities always arose, id leave. avoid comments. just get out of there. i look at every failed relationship as that. a failure. i dont make a habbit of running into relationships for the hell of it, i try only to do it when i feel genuinely moved so. so naturaly, when something doesnt work out right, or you realize someone just doesnt share any feelings about you, its failure. maybe a failure in judgement, or communication, or in love iteself. its difficult to go back to a failure and do something with that. so i generally dont. i take my information when it happens and move. so going back to talk to ex's or their current's doesnt make alot of sense to me anymore. i could say alot of things. i could say nothing good, and just run with those feelings of rejection [since ive never once been able to break up with anyone that i felt attracted to], and see what street they run down. but i dont want to do that. i also dont want to come across as total pyscho and start talking a million good points about someone. i look at it and go, if someone never had a bad thing to say about an ex, why did they break up? so. with that point of view, i knowingly carry around a list of reasons in my head and on my soul that say, hey; heres why. so its difficult to be around people, or answer questions to currents. like when a boyfriend came up to me later on, and asked what fragrence my ex girlfriend wore; because he appearantly couldnt tell. it was hard to tell him what it was. its hard to think about what it smelled like. its hard to remember the times when i could smell it and feel like he does. not difficult to do it. painful to do it. hard to relive old experiences for someone else. tonight i had one of those conversations. and it was hard to come up with what to say. really hard. but in the same vein it felt good to talk. it felt good to be able to be useful. when someone asks for directions, its refreshing that you can give them the way. and maybe i dont do that. maybe i just say what the wrong roads are to take. besides. all i know is failure. i know how things dont work out right. i know, appearantly, very little about making someone happy. i know nothing about successful relationships. i have no clue what its like to have someone really be happy with me. so the correct road is one that has the elusive name that isnt on my map. and its hard to try to guide someone around where it should be, when, i guess, i have no clue where that is. and that, folks, is the feeling i have most of all. i find them. i do everything imagineable to make them see me, and like me, and want to be around me. but it fails. being me, fails. there isnt any duller way to state it. be plain. be in the wrong. i dont just run after girls. i get a feeling after talking and getting to know someone, and those rare couple times i get a feeling stronger than that. its failure. in the end, thats what it is. its an idea that i get, that i think i can do something, or end up somewhere with someone. but its a failure. because i cant get anything right. i cant make anyone like me, any more than i can make it rain. i cant make them decide to quit making the excuses to avoid me. i cant come up with a way to be special. i can be honest, open, trusting, and loyal. but its not in fashion. i can be strong, concerned, and motivated. but its not what they look for. i can be myself. and that gets the quickest answer of anything. failure. and its a narrow line to walk to consider yourself a failure about things. but, lying to myself, wouldnt make it any less true. just less obvious. for example, say i call a girl, i try to see her, i buy her things, i send her cutesy letters 3 times a week. if she finds 50 reasons to ignore me, not to see me, or be busy; what really have i got? ive got a lie i sleep on, that says Shes In To Me. what i really have is nothing. ive got myself setup allready to see my own self fail at what i want. which is nothing more than someone to want me. just me. and what happens when someone just cant ever get it done? there is a name for them. ... its difficult, more so each time, to try and set out for someone. i guess i realize thats the only way to do it. thats why i only go when i feel something. when im serious about what i want, i make a serious effort. one thats seriously not wanted by anyone. in fact the worst part of it all is getting told white lies. girl saying things to get me by, or to ditch me "nicely" when all they want is me to be gone. for good. when someone talks about being busy, then ends up out others. it hurts a bit. its not fair. its never fair to be the one thats pushed away. its not fair to be told no, because you are who you are. a very good friend of mine, while falling asleep on me late one night once told me, "you would be the perfect guy to be married to. but i could never date you, and i dont know how to be attracted to you" and that made sense after all these years. the only advice anyone has ever come up with, "theres other fish in the sea" appearantly people that fail alot, are supposed to be used to it. appearantly fishing is about never catching anything because there is always something else. i think fishing is about catching and keeping. but ive never liked it. because i never win. even if ive come to feel welcomed by it. its always gone in the end. and how many times do you spin the yarns about all of those fish that kept getting away, before someone realizes you just cant fish. it isnt one person. it isnt even all of them. its much more than that. its about being a failure. its about living as one. its about never getting a chance you know so deeply that you deserve. its about coming to the realization of how things were, not of how you want them to be. and its a difficult thing to talk about to someone who doesnt seem to have that in common with you. you talk about how you fail, for their success. someone has what you wanted, and now wants to take your help to keep her. its a system of being a cog but never a wheel. how can anyone ever understand what its like to be rejected by them, when they havent? so then i find myself typing about the one that didnt want me. and what do you say? do you put it honestly, do you risk a spin to someone that would never buy it? or do you just do what i did. and gave truth when i could, and tried to be happy when i wasnt. because ive learned that no matter what, no one cares about the one left over. the focus goes to that perfect couple. the two love birds. the stunning image of love in form. people like to forget about the ones that got in the way. and its ironic how sometimes the people in the way, dream at night about the ones that get away. how satisfying it would be to have and hold a person that you knew. inside and out. but it isnt that way. it isnt true what we dream, its true that we fall short. that we fail. again and again. and thats what keeps dreams as they are. just something we need to fall asleep to at night.

well. on a light note first. the new God Forbid album, The Constitution of Treason, fucking shreds. i keep getting more and more impressed with them the more i hear them. good shit. the opening lead for the first track screams impending metal. love it.

heavier notes.

. im checking out cars. its hard. in the past three days ive looked at well over 200 cars. in a 30 mile area. ive got it somewhat narrowed down. and before anyone says much, im buying something used. im only looking to finance about 10 grand, the job just isnt paying me enough to do more and feel comfortable. but i need something steady that i can drop miles on. something with some cargo space, that looks professional still, that i can take one or two people in, with comfort. 4 wheel drive is something im not really willing to part with. because i want something i can take off road. i guess, i want to be able to do it. and with a sedan i just cant. so weve been scouring the area looking for stuff. im pretty convinced an suv is the way to go. gas mileage aside, it fits everything else.

. car insurance on something like that is a joke. on my current grand am, i pay about 375 a year, it would spring up to 1500 on a 2000 Grand Cherokee. yeeeeouch. i do get one good note, that it will drop down considerably when i turn 25 in a few weeks. something like half as much or so. i also have to have a rediculously high rate of coverage per work's requirement.

. cell phones in southern iowa are an abomination. it looks like verizon is going to be my best bet. cingular told me "we are striving to improve the quality of our network coverage in that region" but nothing very assuring of when. plus, i like the motorolla e815 phone. flip phone. good battery life. large buttons. bluetooth. sounds like a winner.

. living at home is getting better. but i feel like i want to break out in to charley sheens speach from Apoc. Now. about how every day in here i get weaker, and charley out squatting in the bush, gets stronger. its hard to feel like im much of an adult, rotting in my parents basement for shit pay. but i dont have a choice. i feel like a baby that i cant have friends over or have much of a life anymore. but i dont have a choice. food is free. no rent. no worries about if i can pay heating bills. i just dont have a choice not to.

. relationship wise. im a wreck. i honestly feel like im worse off than ive ever been. not only do i not have anyone, i dont have any probables, and i dont have any way to meet anyone else. its rough. right now, id really like to have a relationship. to have some kind of support. to have some kind of feel good. there just isnt any. no quarter to be given the army of the invader. i feel extremely close to someone, but am getting the impression that maybe all along, she never was in to me. just put up a good face for it. the truth is, who cares. i always knew how it would turn out.

. giving advice to other people is interesting now. its nice not to think much about myself and whats going on with me, but to indulge in other's. yet again, i have to reiterate that its quite a feeling to know everyone is moving on. marriages, kids, etc. its great. i really am happy for everyone. even for the current of an exgirlfriend, i just cant say how perfect it is that somene makes her happy. thats the kind of thing thats more important than i could ever be, that someone is happy in the end. truely happy. if it was me that did that, awesome, if its someone else, thats really awesome. i just know that i cant sit and be anything but happy for her. for both her's.

well mission mostly complete. i made it up to see mr. philip levine read again. but especially, i got to hear him again. the man has a wonderful bold voice, when he uses it. but often keeps to the frail old man tone. he seems so much like a grandfather to me. ofcourse i never really had one, that was alive for me to remember long atleast. his stories dart in and out about what hes written. most of the time he gives a 10 minute story about the inspiration of 4 words in a poem, which we, as a young audience, may or may not know. then he just goes off sometimes. like his story about Henry Ford. i wish id have caught the whole thing on tape, but i was trying to conserve some as i only brought one cassette. regardless, it explains the use of "us niggers and kikes" in one of his poems, but given with his resounding description of Ford as, "quite a mother-fucker". surprisingly, it met with general laughter. i was in a bit of awe. not that he said it, but how everyone reacted to it. i remember the first time i saw him do a reading, i was warned that hed swear some times. he said shit, several times that night, but never in a venomous way. tonight he had some gusto behind several of his phrasings, to the tune of which i hadnt heard. i like going to hear him read his work though. so much of poetry is lost in how we construct it in our heads or in our voices. the educational system has wasted poetry for most people before they can begin to realize it. when some asshat in 4th grade made you rhyme everything, or burned you becuase you couldnt write fucking hiku's... or later on when you heard 'sonnett" and though "fuck it', it was all ruined. and it got worse for me, as i grew older, the university made me look at things like juxtaposition, and hidden meanings and obscure phrasings as key important features. but by the time i looked at it long enough to see all that, id forgotten what the poem was about, and how it was trying to say it. and while im sure you can analyze levine's work, if you hear him read it, youll ask yourself why youd ever want to. for him its all a story. the free verse works. its not about being metaphorical. its about spinning a good yarn. either a false one or a true one. one that makes sense or one that doesnt. its all a story. and after you hear him read them as he sees them. it all makes so much more sense. it made me glad that i went to see him five years ago. even more so when i can see him now. plus. hanging around a lobby long enough has some rewards. as you can see in the picture above, he was on his way out to the car, but he was kind enough to atleast drop his name in my copy.

For those keeping score at home, this was from wedding #6 of the year. I was officially invited to 7, had 2 more i could have gone to, and still a couple left this fall. sigh. this is getting rediculous. atleast i can say, im running out of friends that can get married. anyhow. these are my cousins, Jessica [left-the bride], and Rachel [right-maid of honor]. its really odd to see them like this. while i dont remember jess so much growing up, i remember alot of rachel. i just still see her being a 9 year old girl in my head. quite a bit off from where shes at now. jess is my age or a year younger, and i know rachel is 2 years younger. sigh. both girls have kids already, rachel is in a pretty secure relationship, and jess married the father of hers this weekend.

well... the new job starts on wednesday... and here it is. practicaly tuesday. im apprehensive to say the least. there are alot of things to worry about when you start a new job. most of them dont bother me. its the job its self that bothers me. im hoping i can turn this into a way to make some money. serious money. that was the one question that really shook me at the interview stage; was how do you feel about not having a support net for income, that you earn your own wage? i told them; "im not sure" honestly ive never done that before. and while there is a token amount, they are right, i decide how much money i want to make doing this. territory aside, it is up to me. my sister started in on me about cold calling tonight. how she hates it. im trying my hardest not to formulate an opinion on it. but i can see how id hate it, if i sat at a desk 9 hours a day calling people to get them to buy shit. my motivation is if they half way sound interested i can go see them. im not chained to the desk. and i dont pass on a hot call to someone else to close it. im setting my appointments for sales. in that sense, im writing my own pay checks. in a way thats quite exciting. give it a few weeks to see if ive changed my mind. regardless. its all still there. there are alot of things to look forward to as just being different. in a job sense, i could use different right now. id rather not stay in retail. getting stuck at a desk all the time could be dull. so atleast this is a job that pays me to go out and see people. even if i have to put in some time on the phones first. so. ive been gobbling up all the crappy sales manuals and books i can find. ive read tom hopkins, the art of selling, cover to cover 3 times in a week. it has alot of common sense in it. maybe it will pay off.

the last few days have been sketchy. ive been all over the place, so appologies to everyone that calls me that gets voice mail. being in and out of RK ive tried to keep my phone off, and being around the state makes it tough to keep a cell signal... something i know will have to change soon. i looked over the coverage maps and notice cingular/att [whom i use now] has about 0% coverage in southeast iowa. gr. but then again, i couldnt get a signal sitting at my apartment half the time either. and even when i lived in town, it was half of what it should have been. i started reading the premature paper work from RK... turns out i get 2 weeks vacation next year, but have to wait 7 years to get a third week. i get the standard days off [thanksgiving, 4th of july, xmas, new years] but thats about it. and i get one personal day per quarter to use, never to accumulate more than 4 days at a time. eeesh. not much wiggle room. but i guess its hard to sell if you are never there. and time will tell how close they watch me. i suppose if im selling, or atleast showing progress, they may not care if i shave an hour here and there on the road, or if i stick around "fort madison sales stop" long enough in iowa city, that i cant make it back before 5pm to find me. or whatever the time is. i havent heard hours yet. the only thing ive seen is employees who work more than 30 hours per week. i cant imagine a job like that letting you put in less than that.