seriously.... what THE fuck?


story link. with priceless picture.



i really dont get that. when i flipped open the newspaper this morning, this was what i saw. a group of homosexual hobo's wearing war paint, re-enacting lines of the Lost Boys from the Movie " Hook ". i mean... really... bang-a-rang-ruffio!

besides the absurdity of how they think they should dress; lets look into what these creeps are doing. they are roaving down the river, on a barge made out of shit, entertaining children with plays and dances on the barge. dont forget, they dont use last names either. you know who this reminds me of? someone you all know... someone that kept a playland for kids, that wore make up, that didnt need a last name either...

JACKO.

fucking what the fuck. i really dont understand this. if i DIDNT have to work, i would find ways to scuttle that barge to the bottom of the river today. seriously. why. and these vagrant cariactatures of sixteenth-century pirates, caught in a 1983 new wave video, seem to think we should grant them shelter over the winter while they see to reoutfit and supply the ship. yeah. put another coat of rust on it. errrr. put make her sea worthy. what a bunch of goons. shame on you. and shame on the god damned news paper making this front page here.

well i heard a bit of strange news at work that might interest some people. this whole rumor of shipping me off to some other place, just got alot stronger than rumor this week. while standing around at the desk, i noticed a pile of paper work that was highlighted; reminding myself that no one in the department, save myself, is smart enough to use a highlighter, i decided to leaf through it. turns out its a notice from the dreaded "general office" aka 'G-O' to reharken the Culture of Fear... anyway, the notice is to secure two full time employees from our store for a store setup in Marion, Illinois. Thats not good. Of the 8 departments in the store, there are 9 full time employees, seven from the real departments, one cashier, one customer service. They just sent out the cashier and customer service person for the last store setup. That leaves 2/7 as my odds of having to go. The bottom of the note read; "If two employees are not volunteered, please forward the names of the two you will be sending from the store" and thats reaaally not good. The second part is, it requires 61 hour weeks. Yeah. Im sick of the 41+ hour weeks; I can't imagine the hell that is 61+. Its slated for 3 weeks begining in October. Just a heads up. But this isn't what I was expecting to find.

so... the question is; what did i do with my sunday off...

the answer is...

maybe work a genious of an art-form on this drive.

i did what any person, who has fewer brain cells than dollar signs but more time on his hands than both combined; would do: i attempted to service my own hard drive.

granted. this is something that only a fool would do. the experts say so. so do the novices. then here i am. what i quickly found out was, yes, you should let the experts do this. regardless. the story...

when the drive crashed on me, i had two reasons for it... heat, and mechanical failure. honestly one was probably induced by the other. but, for heat that meant if i could cool the drive platters long enough to prevent damage, or to keep the internal circuit borad from overheating, i could make it work for a short time. if it was mechanical failure, i was probably going to be pretty well fucked. bearings are packed away, and i didnt really have a way to remove the platter... for that matter, opening the damned thing without a clean environment is ludicrous enough. so. i started inspecting it to get inside.

i realized that this particular drive had anti-tamper screws. something like a torx bit, but it had an odd elevated center portion that wouldnt let a torx bit drop into the screw head far enough. i tried anyhow, and started stripping out the screw. no go. most people would have stopped there. i could have. but with the minimum bid for servicing my drive, WITHOUT clean room time at 478 dollars, i proceed on. to the drill. how else to get those nasty fucking fasteners out? drill them out! again, noting the sensitivity of magnetic physics at work, i opted to stay away from any sort of electric drill and found old faithful; the manual powered hand drill in the garage. after some time to gather focus, i slowly started drilling out the 6 screws on the top half of the case. voila. before opening the drive, i took my last deep breath, sliced the manufacturer security foil label in two, and cracked it. what i found didnt surprise me. the head had parked itself incorrectly or crashed several times against the platter, and the screeching noise i had heard was probably the head dragging across the surface. i still am not sure if the bearings are bad on it as well, but that was a probability too. anyhow. with my surgical kung fu grip, i lifted the head and arm up, and slowly rotated the platter with the tip of a hollowed out plastic ink pen from the outer side edge. it moves! after a quick look at the circuitry in the back, i closed it back up. i crossed my fingers. and i hoped it would work, because i just cost myself a minimum of 1,200 dollars to service my drive now. for better or worse, i went to step two.

i used a few leftover component screws i had lying around to forcible fasten the clamshell together... again, im not worried about the threads mashing, its done for in all realistic expectations. then i did what no one should ever do. i followed some morons instructions from the internet. what do they say? bag it and marinate. moreover, seal it up in a non static bag, with no moisture, and drop it in the freezer for a while. excuse me? yes, exactly that. so i did just that. and i dropped it in the freezer. thinking it over, the possible working theory here is, that the circuitry and bearings overheat during failures, and the deep freeze solution is a way to buy time before they heat up. the question is, how long do you get? no one quite seemed to know the answer. someone suggested to just keep tryin to refreeze it. but thats not a good solution. i knew that the problem with this was simple, if frost forms on the drive, when it thaws, it becomes liquid. its called condensate. its not a good thing for sensitive electronics. its actually an incredibly bad thing. so this was a one off chance to work.

so 2 to 3 hours later.

i note the surface temperature of my drive to be quite cold. so i pluck my bag and run down the stairs to find out. i figure id only have so long before it would warm up, and ambient air temperature would gain a few degrees every second. so i prayed that the bios and windows would load quickly. after its buckled in, and the bios loads, i get a hiccup. the shaking picture. visible static lines on the screen. but then, as im about to cry; it goes blue and WELCOME! yessssss. even though i was booting from a different drive, the disk in question had to have been polled by the bios as it flashed by, or it would have gave me a nasty message... so far, so good. windows loads over into safe mode, as i requested, and with my beautiful array of 256 colors and 960 x 480 sized window, i have the moment of truth. windows + E. the window loads. it studders. then it shows the drive! yes, it shows it! i open the directory and find..... a bunch of horse shit. lots of mangled looking chunk files, with random characters and unknown pixels. but some of it is still good. by some, i mean, about 40%. i furiously start dragging and dropping; anything that looks good i take. im going well for about 10 minutes before the first click happens. im rushing to pull small files first to get more over... then more clicks; but the drive doesnt fail or seize. about 50 minutes later, its making louder clicks and dragging sounds. i take what i have and power it down. after pulling the drive out, i notice it has some condensation on its surface. the very center does feel cool, but underneath its hot, as is the rear of the unit. i think its probably the best ill get out of it, so i leave it on a shelf and reboot to see what i have. and.

a partial success! i have some fucked up data. and i have some intact. no shit. i dunno whether to call myself an idiot or the idiots savant. but some of it IS recovered. ill weed through it soon to know what... but....

of several things i was hurridly searching for; ive come up with:

. a resume copy, somewhat outdated
. several copies of research text i wrote
. some misc templates
. a few mp3s that dont hiccup
. several pictures; including some from matt and kris's wedding, one of my family reunion from last year and 4 years ago, and one of me as a child i had scanned.

all in all. i hope it was worth it. but do what i say... dont EVER DO THIS. seriously. my concern was the money. i should have done the right thing; i should have let it sit, saved money, and in a years time, paid a professional firm to do this the right way. god knows, the data would be all intact and unscrambled from what they would return to me. yes, it would have cost more than 500 dollars; but its what you should do. dont ask me for help doing this on your drive. dont look to me as a prophet, and dont ever try this at home. i managed to ruin a drill bit [i broke one trying to be too precise drilling out holes starting with 3/32's of an inch], and i guarantee ive ruined the drive and added 800 some odd dollars to the cost of any data recovery i might now want performed on the drive. but. you know how i think... i made something work. and maybe that was somewhat worth it.

well now that the anger has subsided.... and the rant has left me....


i get sunday off.


blink.


yes. for missing my first saturday-sunday combination since april; my reward is; "well, you can have sunday off" thanks. so with 53.5 hours on the clock this week, i was told i could leave 2 hours early. gee----thanks.

that and appearantly there was some kind of altercation outside between a yard-manager and a customer, resulting to blows! yes, the tranquility of moving blocks and fence post turned into built up rage for more people than just me this week. what a lovely place!


s

At least Matt salvaged some of the day with me. At least one person didn't mind the rain, the drive, or the time to come see me on my “weekend off.” Not only that, we stuck around through the downpour to watch people throw burlap bags of sheep shit over a pole. I'm grateful Staab is intelligent enough to have a conversation about the destiny of America in the near future with me. In general, its nice to see and old friend for a day. Especially on short notice, when it supposed to be you're weekend off.

So I was supposed to have Saturday and Sunday off. What a big fucking deal? A big fucking deal says You.... You, the person that doesn't think much of getting two days off in a row, especially weekend days. My happy ass became elated, when I stumbled upon these hallowed days. This was to be my first Saturday and Sunday off since March 25-26, 2006. That makes it a big fucking deal to me. So I spent most of the week getting plans lined up to do things, and see people. Then one by one everyone and everything craps out on me. The actual weekend was taken away from me, and I ended up just like I always do. Stuck at work.

See, the the idiot I work with had a relative die, leaving herself in a perpetual state of Pitty Receivable Mode. Whats that? Thats where you call into work three times a fucking day to start bawling on the phone to people that don't care. Thats were you tell us you'll show up to work, and actually come in, dressed for it, but then decide to start crying, make a big scene, and pull the managers in the back office and announce you can't do it and you need to go home. Thats a state of fucking Pitty Receipt. And since one person was off on vacation, that left me to get called in. All the time. So I lost my Friday early out. I “got” to come open the store Saturday morning at 6am, and I also “got” to close the store, by myself, on Sunday. Saturday and Sunday being my first two days “off” since March.

So I'm a little pissed about this.

Anyways, of the plans I had set; one decided to cancel out on me mid week. It actually made me mad. Because the excuse sounded lame. Lame like, “I'm reaching for a way out”--- lame. Lame like, “I'm a one legged gay pirate with a lisp and multiple sclerosis survivor”--- lame. Something like that. I work all the time. I get told, that they want to promote me way out of the area. This was the only weekend I was supposed to have off. I don't have a time line for when they want me out of here. So all excuses, when I really want to see you, sound fucking lame. Ok? Lame. F U C K I N G L A M E. Tell me the truth instead. Hows about; “Scott, you're a fucking ugly fat bastard, and I hope you die. And I'm not coming to see you.” That would be understandable. Or, “You know what, I'm not sure I'm ready to be alone with you, knowing what you're feelings are about me, maybe its too soon for me.” Thats respectable. “Scott, were having a killer party at our house, and really its going to be rough for me to drive back and be here in time before people show up, is it OK to bounce this weekend?” Thats at least got a shred of decency dropped in a shot of the truth. I got, “Uhm, I have a soccer game, sorry!” Thats fucking lame. Like you didn't know about that before now? Lame, like you'd think I consider a last minute crap excuse, to be a good reason to back out on me? And then the reason is soccer? Fuck soccer. I hate stupid fucking spotted balls. I wish to hell soccer is proved to be the reason the Holocaust occurred; because Hitler tried to purge the earth of soccer, and the diversity fairies, hiding in jewish underclothes, smuggled their soccer balls into hidden rooms, then hid behind being jewish, or black, or gay, to protect soccer. Soccer is not an excuse. Not wanting to see me, is an excuse. This is a fucking rant. I understand that. Do you?

So I lost my weekend. So what. So people make up excuses not to see me, and hope that they can just have a chance with me some other time. Well, here is news.... I wont be here. I'll be standing behind a fucking gray desk, with a 1978 TV above my head, selling toilet seats to people in trailer parks at a shitty place that calls its self a hardware store, somewhere in America. Because, thats what I want to do. Because, thats what I dreamed about as a kid. I never go to pretend I could win the World Series, or that I could cure cancer, or that I could make 10 million dollars.... I dreamed of fat people, with herpes sores, asking me which toilet seat will hold 600 pounds of human fat, and still have a big enough opening for feces to splatter through. Thats why I went to college, burned all nighters, labored through arcane languages, and did massive social research projects; all to understand how best to sell fucking toilet seats to people with 3 teeth, clad in Nascar shirts, while they beat their child in admiration of my knowledge of the color differentiation of: Natural, Biscuit, Bone, Almond, Beige and Bisque.

SO..... The next time that I should be pulled away from my life's ultimate opus, of assisting the chapped, fecal inflamed ass to the soothing nature of an off-white receptacle; maybe we can think of why I fucking value my time with you. Maybe... Maybe we can sit and come to an understanding, that I hate my life. That I hate what I fucking do. I hate who I deal with. And I hate the times I have to work. Maybe, we can merge our thoughts, and understand that I want to see the people that matter to me, and I arrange these things so they can happen. Maybe I really had wanted to see you. Maybe, just maybe, I put up with a lot of fucking shit in my daily life, and I wanted to have some kind of a special day with you... because I never see you... and because I really do care about you. AND the first time in six months I had an open weekend to see you, I set my plans with you for that. But fuck it.

Once I found out you backed out on me, then everything else started going down hill. Then the scheduling crap. Then I find myself sitting at Menard's, at 5:15am, watching the sun come up over the trees... the first rays of light on my first weekend off in six months. And I try to remember who is honestly important to me, as I walk through the puddles in the lot, avoiding nails and screws that litter the parking spaces. I want to ask, Why is this fair?, but I know the answer. It isn't. But fuck it. No one else is here to care anyhow. I should have been at the zoo. I should have been smiling and laughing, and having ice cream. I should have just had a great weekend, that would make six months feel somewhat worth it. But instead, I look up at the TV to see that my punch was accepted, and I stand at my gray desk, waiting for the first moron to come in the door at 6:01am on my Saturday.

Maybe its all overblown. Maybe its melodramatic. Maybe I should focus on the three other people that I had plans to see that blew me off. Maybe I am an idiot. Maybe I don't care anymore. Maybe it doesn't make sense why I'm focusing on this. Maybe I want to believe that you're someone you're not, and that I'm someone I'll never be. Regardless... its Saturday night, and I know I'm going to work on my Sunday off as well in a few short hours. And I just feel like taking it out where I can at this point. Maybe I just shouldn't care. But I do. Maybe, I just want something to work out for once in my life. Like the weekend off that I didn't get; maybe thats just not meant to be.

well what can i say... technology now hates me.

add that on a list of things that seemingly never ends, and were starting to see why i get so frustrated about life. a week ago, my hard drive failed. i get this wonderful blue screen; and before i can even read it, the drive starts clicking and chirping, to the point windows locks up. so i let it sit. monday morning, i wake up, boot it up with the intention of finding out what was going on, and to prepare to back up stuff. its loads fine. i leave it up and take a shower before work, to come back and find its powered off automatically. upon rebooting, i get this screeching sound ripping at me. the drive is dead. and so with it, went my windows installation and programs... but more importantly my photographs from the past 5 years or so, all of my research and papers from college, plus a chunk of music. gone. so while i felt obligated to go get a new drive, and start from scratch, my mind lingers to that data i lost. appearantly some companies on the internet do specialize on retreiving data from these types of scenarios.... the problem is... they charge $400 and on up to $3,000 to recover a single drive. i just cant afford that. and honestly, im sure none of that information is worth $4, let alone $400. but it really did upset me. im holding on to the drive for now, i suppose data cant get any more corrupted if it just sits on a shelf for awhile.

the list now stands as...

women.
most family members.
money.
gainful employment.
copiers.
fuel efficiency.
cysts.
technology.


sigh.

as i had mentioned to a few people... how is this for a wake up call? i woke up thursday or friday to feel the walls and floor rattle, then heard all the construction banging and jackhammering.... turns out the city decided to tear out the street we live on and just replace it. on a whim. how nice. its OFCOURSE appropriate to tear it all apart on a friday, then let it sit over the weekend, so taxpayers cant use their driveways. its not as bad for us [living on the corner] as for the other people on the street... it goes down the entire block, and probably shut out a good 20 houses from their driveways and access routes to streets. charming shitheads, absolutely charming.

The things they decide not to tell me at this place. Like how becoming a full time employee means I MUST work 40 hours + per week. I can NOT work less than 40.5 hours per week. Also, I'm only given one dollar per hour raise. I am allowed health coverage, but it costs almost 150 dollars a paycheck. Fucking Christ. I wish they'd have mentioned some of this to me. Now I "get" to work a 14 hour day tomorrow, because I was running below my 40.5 for the week. Nice. Today was good too. 10 minutes after walking in the door, they start harping at me about bringing in overstock. Boxes of overstock, they put on pallets in the middle of the outdoor yard. Pallets which have been getting rained on since 4am. Rain that started at 4am, and was only getting heavier as I punched in. Only now, did it seem to dawn on them, that we should do something about it. So before I can even take my rain coat, I'm pushed outside. Everything out there was ruined. Furnace filters, fireplace wood, paper napkins in cases, toilet paper in cases, cheap wicker baskets, bathroom exhaust fans, all of it was sitting not only in the rain, but directly under the run off from the roof. Hundreds of gallons of water per minute were dumping on this stuff. And only now, 8 hours later, did it seem imperative to act. Of course, as soon as I step outside, some asshat customer starts honking his horn, and from the rolled down window--- "hey buddy, why don’t you load these blocks up for me, its raining like crazy" How about not. I shrugged and yelled back, "wait till it lets up, or I call some of the yard guys to do it" His answer- "bullshit, you can do it yourself kid" he honks enough that a manager sitting around in the back of the store, comes over to the door where I am, and tells me, I should go do it. So after 10 minutes of carrying 80 pound concrete blocks, even my boxers were drenched. When I come back in the store, all I get were laughs. No one was remotely sympathetic, or seemed to care. I was told I could use my lunch time now to go home and get dry clothes. I get 30 minutes for lunch. It can take 25 to get to my house from the store. That logic didn’t seem to matter to them. So I spent the rest of my day soaking wet. I ended up taking my lunch an hour later, to sit in the Jeep wrapped in a blanket to warm up. It was 1:25pm. I didn't get to go home until 10:45pm. It didn’t get any better as the day went on. I wanted to quit. In the worst way possible, I wanted to quit. For shit pay, for shit hours, to get treated like shit. It wasn't worth it. But no job really is. And had I been able to wear my rain gear, I'd still have ended up with wet feet, hands and face. So what really was the difference?

Anyhow, this whole internet problem I spoke about last time is as follows. To flesh out what happened. QCOnline/AscendTel, the ISP we had been using [with good quality uptime and speeds], fettered out, they did some tests and blamed Qwest Telecom. Once they couldn’t resolve anything, they brought in LightSpeed Media Corp; apparently they were the brains behind QCOnline/AscendTel in the local area. They also ran tests, and funnily enough, also blamed Qwest Telecom. Qwest Telecom says there isn’t anything wrong with anything. Just, funnily enough, they'd rather we buy DSL service from them instead. Since, funnily enough, Qwest Telecom owns the lines, and would provide us the service, I assumed they could guarantee us service to remedy the problem. Funnily enough, I assumed far too much. I reached a snappy, "no," answer from Qwest Telecom about that. Not only could they say [funnily enough] with a definitive "no problems exist in your line," but also that they were not willing to upgrade the line or the taps in our area to improve infrastructure and communications capability. That left the only solution to be Mediacom. I hate Mediacom. Hate them with a passion. I've never had any sort of quality service from their cable television or internet services. Besides that, they also were 50 dollars per month for what we were getting from QCOnline/AscendTel for a mere $26.99. So as of July, 25th, were going to give Qwest a run. They extended me a 30 day money back guarantee, which I will liberally enforce if they can't provide service. In short, I should be back online sometime after Tuesday. With fingers crossed, that is. But what gets me about all this is how Qwest seems to think that if I had DSL service before, then it magically stopped, and the provider says its not their fault, how Qwest can figure that just CAN NOT be any problem with their lines. More over, Qwest had to do the upgrade to the DSL line at our house to start this mess, and any wiring problems are theirs regardless of who is providing the service. What also gets me is how it's almost exactly a year to the day, when we first called Qwest about the possibility of service, but went with QCOnline because of price. Qwest offers service, we decline, they own the line, then magically when our contract with QCOnline would end, poof, there goes our services and Qwest seemingly becomes the magic answer with a magical offer of no installation fees. Magically delicious! At best this is a terrible set of coincidence. At worst, it’s a down-right despicable business practice. QCOnline wasn't happy about us leaving, but understood, and promised me they'd keep an eye on customers in our area. I hope they do.

In other things entertaining… My brother managed to burn his hand. Last week he was out late with friends doing whatever, and happened to have a fire going, which he decided to pick up some kind of metal piece that was still a bit too hot. So he now has a nice line of blisters burnt into his palm. I guess his friends came running back in the middle of the night, called my parents; calamity ensues… so I'm told. I slept through it, and apparently no one ever thought to wake me up. What else, the dog had surgery not long ago. Apparently she tore a ligament in her lower leg, to which they replaced and re attached it. Never thought I'd say the dog had surgery like that. The vet gave us all sorts of scenario's about what would likely happen if we didn’t go for surgery. But what gets me is, dogs in the wild do this all the time--- it’s a natural thing. So what happens to them? They don’t fall over dead. They walk with a limp and eventually heal. But in the pet-mending industry, it’s the emotional what-if's that sell services. Hmm… It's freakishly like the internet service provider market... "*gasp* You WAN'T your pet to walk with a limp?" Similar to the... "Gee, I dunno why its down, but did you know Qwest offers high speed internet connections starting as low as 29.99 per month?" So maybe it isn't quite the same approach but it gets about the same results.

The same sort of results I got in about a year's time trying to do anything. See the last time I sat down and started lamenting about what I've done, and well, after looking at the calendar, I realized thats it has been almost an exact year since I left Iowa City. I remember that Matt and Kris's wedding was the last weekend I had my keys to my apartment, but that following Monday morning I had to turn them in on my way back across the state. So while I'm still happy for Mr. and Mrs. Staab; this day still somewhat makes me sad. Atleast to me, it reminds me of the day I lost my independence. It was the day where I had to cut and run. I remember doing alot of things that last week. I remember that long discussion I had with Staples, that left me without a job. I remember packing up everything, and knowing what I couldn't fit into the moving van was going to be thrown out. I remember that Wednesday night that I saw Sarah and decided to tell her how I felt. I remember that Sunday, calling my parents to beg to move back in within a weeks time. The week before that I remember receiving the letter from the Dept of Education, informing me I owed 17,600 dollars past due on my loans out of nowhere. I really just remember sitting on the floor in the apartment one night, with my head against the wall, having that upset stomach, knowing that I didn't know what was going to happen. So here I am, a year later. Comically enough, I've ended up being the dependable person for people at different points. I've been in weddings, I've been there when loved ones were in Iraq, when family members were dead, for births, for a way to kill time between places. All of those things happen in a year's time. But I've just sat here.

THE INTERNET LIVES!

This is the 3rd week without internet…. Its really starting to get to me. The whole story makes very, very little sense, but here goes. About a month and a half ago, my brother started complaining about a drop off in bandwidth. I didn’t. But then again, there were often times 3 computers yanking bytes downstream, so with internet traffic conditions as they are, it could have been from all of that. About 5 weeks ago, I noticed a massive slow down. I also started watching pings grow and packets drop. Not good. Then about 3 weeks ago, we got the great internet silence. Poof. Like a light switch, it was killed. Calling the ISP didn’t little good. They forwarded us on to the company they purchase bandwidth from; they in-turn, sent us back to our telephone conglomo. The circle of life at its finest. Since it is DSL, it would ultimately end up in the hands of the telecom that owns the physical lines. Enter, Qwest. Who fought me on the phone, in argumentative ways, to keep from coming out to see what the problem was. So we still don’t have internet here. And at this point, I wonder if it is ever going to get fixed. So the logical question is how am I posting this? Well its on a pirated wifi signal I found in the neighborhood. It works sometimes. So here I am.

While I'm here, what else should I say? Well lately, I'll I've done is work. Seriously. I work all day. I come home. I don’t have the internet to play on. So I put on some music, until I fall asleep. That’s about it. As far as the job. Well, I was recently promoted. They gave me full-time status… so at the very least, I don’t worry about hours any more. It came with a slight bump in pay as well. But no benefits. They are also under the impression of promoting me to another store as a assistant department manager. I'm not sure that’s what I want to do. But, I suppose, a job is a job. They did give me a few options of location. Of them, Chicago-area and Ohio were the push zones. I dunno. Well see. If I do take a promotion out, it has to be for descent money. One place was in Wisconsin. Way the hell up in Eau Claire. I suppose I could do that. Not that I know any one that lives there…. Or even in a 100 miles of there. But I suppose I could do it. Money is the ultimate factor. Let's face it; I don't have any reason to stay here. I'm done with school; my friends have moved on; I'm not married or even close; and I don’t have any kids. Other than my parents being here, and the fact I've pretty much lived my life here to this point, I guess there isn’t any real reasons to stay. In a lot of ways, I envy some of you. I did everything you all did, but ended up a complete opposite. Some of the people that read this, go to college, and end up with great jobs. I have a degree that lets me sell toilet seats. People came into college totally unprepared for a relationship, and leave married. I don’t think I could come up with three names of females that would ever care to see me alive again, that I met in college. Some people walked into college as total shmucks, and walk out of it in good shape for the rest of their life. I went in prepared; in good shape, yet walk out almost in worse shape. People took courses that let them actually learn about things in all honesty I think college courses pushed knowledge out of my head. So maybe it is best that I leave.

I guess if I think about it; maybe I could get some small farm house in the Middle-of-No-Where, Wisconsin. Maybe I could really live out there in anonymity like I always threatened. Just do what it takes to keep me alive. Maybe I could just prove all of you right out there, that always hoped I would drop off the face of the earth. Maybe that’s being hard on myself. I guess, in the back of my mind, I look at the calendar and ask myself; What happened to the year? The year, that I figured things would be different for me. It really isn’t any different. Other than being out of school; its not really much better. I guess I hoped, naively, that I could have done something dramatic. Instead I sold copiers, washed out of that, and now sell toilets. I thought that I might take a while, but could get financially back in the positive, instead I'm about where I was before. I thought I could manage to follow through on a relationship that felt right, and as usual I'm here, and she's there with somebody else. So Wisconsin. Yeah. I haven’t decided yet. At some point I'll have to make a decision… probably sooner than later.

so with James Brown wailing about "Bringing It Up" in the back ground, i stare at the blinking cursor. it used to be my friend. i used to find myself sitting here, arguing or lamenting about everything.... and for whatever reason in the past month or so i just havent. ive thought about it. but like a bad friend, i never initiated that contact. i just let the day go on. at one point i kind of thought how nice it would have been just to put something pointless up, as a good faith way of keep up appearances. but i never got around to it. so now The Blog has drug me out here, in a way to show me off like were still comfortable.... even though we both know we havent been so of late. ...

the past month went pretty fast. all the days really start to run together for me. sometime after seeing matt and kris, its all been about one long day in my mind. im regularly working 6 day weeks. the last couple have been 7. and while that does mean money, and more importantly, overtime-money.... it kills: ( list of things ). fill in the list as you please, but everyday it seemed to be something different that i missed more than the money i got from working. sometimes it was just the freedom to roam around or be lazy. sometimes it felt like i was missing the time to actually sleep and recoup. im not even going to frame my job in any way resembling difficult. its not. it requires only a few things to be successful at it [more on that in a sec.]... first is major patience. these "contractors" we help really dont speak english. or any language. its all grunts and pokes and fart noises. second is the ability to regurgitate facts. the first two weeks i absorbed an encyclopedia of crap facts about crappers. its now only a matter of repeating it. thats all it takes. it doesnt matter if you know much of anything, only if you repeat as told. third, it takes a stout constitution. i really only get one break a day, and thats a half hour for lunch if im punched in working for 8 hours and more. there are no chairs, and there is a fair amount of heavy lifting. but thats about it. wear the dope-y blue vest. load 200 pound vanity cabinets for people, and repeat what a wax ring does. rarely do i need to do more than add a blink at 80% of the people. the last 20% require a bit more work. but thats it. it helps to learn pipe thread vs. hose thread vs. compression thread vs. flare threads by touch. but its not really needed. and by following this method, i was employee of the month. seriously. the only point at which i dont follow this, is when i actually get to do what i used to do at staples... which was actually merchandise and upsell products to people. menards sells by volume. and ill be damned if that trailer park maintence person will pay more than low ball pricing. so its really irrelevant that i can do anything else. it was useless for me to go to college. mostly a waste to work hard at learning the art of merchandising at staples. utterly pointless that i sold 30,000 dollar copiers. all i need to be the best employee on a given month, is "flare threads are for flexible gas line connections, and are different than pipe thread sizes." point at a package, and walk away. sometimes, i carry around 40 pound rail-road ties for people. but thats it. ... in a way, i should be proud of being the employee of the month, when ive only been there for about 3 months. especially when there are almost 100 people that work in my store alone. on the other hand... its pathetic. i cant say that i havent learned anything... because i have. im actually learning alot, and some of that gets used. but the entire business isnt based around that. it cant be. because if someone with zero knowledge walks in and becomes employee of the month, based on sales and performance, in three months, its a problem. but thats that place. about the only thing of half worthiness, is that theyve asked me if id take a promotion out of the area. i havent answered it yet. it didnt sound time sensitive. or overly appealing.

lets see... ive also been trying to [ab]use my place to meet females. the store hires a surprising number of attractive ones. which shocked me. but its so odd. for me, it never was difficult to get them to flirt, or to talk. this isnt different. but its just that i dont feel all that motivated to. thats not right.... i do feel motivated to. its just its not the same somehow. its just something i do, but nothing i want. i dunno... im not sure that makes sense even to me, now that i read it. its just something feels different. its almost like it feels empty. i wondered for a while, if that was normal... and i realized that going through the motions probably wasnt. it probably isnt. but i do. its idle practice. but thats all it is. as the saying goes, my heart isnt in it. in alot of ways, id like it to be. i wish i could just generate some fantastic girl from my minds eye, and go from there. but its not happening. and like i said i realize it now. it caught me one day when i was talking with this girl, i found out to be 17, and could tell she was into it. she was into having someone talk to her, to flirt with, to smile at, to be cute and coy around, in a way that she wasnt with the other people. enough so that shed follow me around and waive at me from half a store away. but before anyone gets the bright idea of "go for it scott"; shes 17. shes had one boyfriend... and from what ive found out, its a playdate type of thing, its a family friend type of person. she obviously has no experience in anything, and likely doesnt realize what a shrewd and devious though that strings through my mind. granted, most people dont get that. but when i was talking to her that day, i just became clear on the 17 year old-ness of it all. then there is the girl with a couple kids that tried luring me in with the "i need some sex soon or i dont know what will happen" lines, and the like. who then tries to use some lines about being lonely and needing a man like me, to draw me in. not that there is anything wrong with that.... i guess. just i dont feel any desire for it. no connection. no draw. nothing. nothing that would make me want to go on. even the idea of "picking low hanging fruit", didnt do it. i guess. i do want more. and in a way i want something i lost a while ago. i just want that whole situation back. the things you think about, staring in the eyes of a 17 year old girl.

maybe the past 30 some odd days, gave me a chance to get away and thing by myself. not that anything i put here, isnt my own thought, but... i guess lately it involved less rattling around. less echo. less of hearing myself thinking, rather than doing the thinking. ive been thinking alot about what im going to do. here i am... 25. and im stuck. ive got to end up somewhere. thats what im thinking about now.

i suppose its ironic that as i sit here, nearly a loss for words about my life; Frank Sinatra pops on to start crooning about how it was A Very Good Year. eesh. i dunno. im not sure where the whole feeling even started. at one point during the day though, it kind of hit me. some asshat, missing 3 teeth, sporting a nascar shirt and a lack of deoderant, decided to tell me that i have some kind of fucking attitude problem. i didnt even say anything. he stared at me. i shrugged. because hes probably right. my attitude, is problematic to keep dealing with trailer trash allstars, about why they plug their toilet every time they shit. hes absolutely right about that.

i just really cant figure out what it is im supposed to do. i suppose it shouldnt make any difference to how i work. but it does. and, i think, its stupid to expect it any differently. my boss mentioned something about, if i liked working there. and i honestly answered him; "no, i dont" he asked me why not. and i told him. "work is something i do to afford my leisure" which is to mean, i dont work because i like it... i only work so i can have the money to do what i want to do. and thats not unreasonable. because what kind of social nutcase, would actually enjoy matching fat asses to plastic seats, day in and day out. no one.

i suppose its ironic that as i sit here, nearly a loss for words about my life; Frank Sinatra pops on to start crooning about how it was A Very Good Year. eesh. i dunno. im not sure where the whole feeling even started. at one point during the day though, it kind of hit me. some asshat, missing 3 teeth, sporting a nascar shirt and a lack of deoderant, decided to tell me that i have some kind of fucking attitude problem. i didnt even say anything. he stared at me. i shrugged. because hes probably right. my attitude, is problematic to keep dealing with trailer trash allstars, about why they plug their toilet every time they shit. hes absolutely right about that.

i just really cant figure out what it is im supposed to do. i suppose it shouldnt make any difference to how i work. but it does. and, i think, its stupid to expect it any differently. my boss mentioned something about, if i liked working there. and i honestly answered him; "no, i dont" he asked me why not. and i told him. "work is something i do to afford my leisure" which is to mean, i dont work because i like it... i only work so i can have the money to do what i want to do. and thats not unreasonable. because what kind of social nutcase, would actually enjoy matching fat asses to plastic seats, day in and day out. no one.

i walk out of that store every time, shaking my head, going "why, oh god, why are they this incompetent?" should you ever special order or custom order an item, the store will NOT refund it, exchange it, or credit you in any form, even if the product arrives damaged, non functional, or is simply the wrong thing all together. how rediculous is that? hell, most stores dont bat an eye at the product if you flash a receipt. not this place. even if the Pope walks in, blesses it, and sprinkles holy water on the receipt; "its yours" sigh. its just disgusting. the back story is some woman was quite upset that the 400 some dollar air conditioner she ordered didnt work... it pumps out warm, black, oil scented air. with receipt. paid for by store charge account. she comes in today, then gets abruptly told "sorry, but its yours" how the hell do you say that? if someone walked up, gave me 400 dollars, id bend over backwards to keep them happy. not this place. but then again, this is also the store that decides.. if a competetor is RETAILING an item for less than they do, they will go and physically buy out all of the competetor's stock. yes. now what the hell sense does that make? instead of letting the competetor get hosed on that deal, you walk over, pay retail price [which is far higher than your cost] and double the stock you sell at twice the cost.... what sense does any of this make? seriously... i wonder how this place stays in business with brilliance like this.

ofcourse, pointing a specific problems is like mopping the decks on the Titanic. we had to sit through a rediculous department meeting tonight. i walked away from it with fewer braincells than when i walked in. regardless. 2 of them sat and made fun of me the whole time, asking me why i didnt wear my sunglasses this time [at 10pm], or how much of a fag i must be because my shirt was tucked in, plus the somethingerothers about living at home, something about being a college graduate selling toilet seats, then something about how the cashiers were complaining that not only was it bad enough i was ugly, but then i started talking to them. i didnt say anything. why argue. so what. even if i would, obviously its just me against 7 people then; and it only makes them start it up everytime i see them. ive been called alot of things worse than that. but i also believe that i probably deserved it when i was called those things. at this point, im just sitting through the same boring meeting they are, not saying anything. it dawned on me that these are people that spent 15 years working for the same company to become a 2nd assistant department head. or worse. they watch nascar. they listen to new age country music. they all drive "street" pick up trucks. and most of them are married or well on the way to it. thats fine. im also the new person. thats fine. im fat. thats fine. sure, im ugly too. thats fine. yeah, im always going to be single. thats fine. but fucking step back off the college graduate remarks. in the worst way, that was the only thing i wanted to defend myself about. because even if everything else is true; this is the one thing i worked my ass off to do. i didnt work my ass off to be the new guy at some stupid redneck lumber yard, or to be 50 pounds over weight, or practice really hard to end up lonely... i didnt put in effort to be pathetic with women, or to find a kind of music i like that everyone else hates... but i sure as hell put in the effort to get where i am. i didnt flunk out of a community college and end up selling toilets. and thats the only thing i really took offense to. maybe i should have said something. but instead i just sat there grinding my knife into the side of the desk while they all jerked around. i just wanted to go home. i opened the store. worked a full day for one 10 minute break. then had to kill 4 hours until i could come back and sit through all of this shit again tonight. what a night. what a great place to work at.

i dont know why im posting now. just kind of bored... sitting at the keys... figured i could do something here. its just that, i absolutely detest people who dont post. granted; they are higher on the totem pole, than the people that only post meme's and song lyrics 40 times per day; but not much. for the life of me; if you felt like you had something important to say, why dont you all tell it? sometimes i kind of feel like im the only person will to keep throwing my thoughts out here on the void. its much more comforting when you arent alone. but. i dunno. i guess on some level were all alone. all the time. on some level, there never is a way we can connect to anybody else. there are those moments where you can think to yourself how close you can be to the person next to you; but really that six inches of space can be miles. by proximity we often seem to equate closeness. connectivity. union. but i just cant come past the point of understanding how on every level we can be something with someone else. im not sure what im working at here. im probably talking circles around my own thought. but on the drive home tonight, i thought about how people can be close that are far apart. i thought about how people can be far apart that are close. i thought about how you can sit at the same table with someone youve known for years, look in their eyes, and just read the reaction that they are miles removed from that seat at the table. and it puzzles me, how we dont always understand that for what it means in life. that on some level, you cant ever be totally conected to anybody else. in a way, i hoped that i could reconnect on something with a friend of mine tonight. if nothing else, a heartfelt 10 minute coversation about where we've been, and where were going. and you stop in look in their eyes and see thats not an interest. its not a mood. its not a phase. its not a [un]sociable outlook. and i thought about how we, as people, end up creating a void around us sometimes. its a space we keep that cleaves the continum between you and me. it keeps you out. it strangles me in. but its fundamental in understanding the people around you. because we all fight for connection on different levels. but finding out on what planes we make those breaks.... those slight cecessions... thats how we find out how far apart we are from each other; when we try to connect again.



so... something else. myspace. i cant see how this is an addiction for anyone. i really dont. but i will say how nifty it is. im running into people from high school and farther back id have never heard from again, by using it. very cool. flip side of that is, its going to be harder and harder to disappear from people like that, with something like myspace being available. but i love how school districts are banning it left and right. friendster, myspace, facebook, third reich, kkk, black panthers, taliban... all of these are malicious groups, which we can not tolerate our nations youth joining into. for shits sake. while there are some 13 year old girls out there somewhere, stripping off their training bras and taking pictures for the internet to see; its hardly ban-worthy. if you want to start a mess about censoring websites, or information from kids; you better come up with a damn clear reason as to why.... and present that to them. dont come at me with "a kid bragged about being a drug dealer on it" or "there are boobies" or "dateline nbc caught people looking to have sex with kids"... god. because when Stone Phillips becomes the defacto standard of evolving educational policy for this nation; we know we arent getting honest answers. the real answer, like why cell phones and pagers were banned... like why certain kinds of clothing were banned... like why walkmans were banned... etc. is because the governing generation has no idea what to make of it yet. they just dont get what myspace is about. sure. you can show them. yes. you can set up and account for them. but they just arent going to get it. so they fear it. then they ban it. then it just gets absurd after a while. pagers used to be only for drug dealers. that was the line they gave us. how about a kid waiting on an organ transplant, did they know that the state sometimes hands out pagers to recipiants for that? in a post 9-11 world, what if someones in dire need of help after a catastrophe, wouldnt a cell phone in the school, in a kids backpack, come in handy? never. we just keep aiming to make policy based on the worst case scenario in this country. myspace is now inclusive of that.

story




im not about to set the world on ear here... but when youre the the chief executive of the united states of america, rapidly degrading to a single digit approval rating with the general public; allowing a brash political move... say like alloting the department of justice to seek a warrantless search and seizure on the office of a democratically elected member of congress... its not going to help your self image. see.... make it worse on yourself yet; you pick some low-ball problem like coercive legislation or bribery, against an opposing political party member, and then carry it out on federal property in the Rayburn Office building on a saturday night. richard nixon's ghost, thinks that was probably not a good idea W. and for the life of me, there hasnt been anything spoken about this really. maybe because the congressman in question was taped taking bribes... maybe because the later search of his residence found the bribe money in his freaking freezer... but appearantly this ISNT newsworthy? lost blonde girl in aruba is getting more headlines than this mess; and thats not right.

when you have both political party's leadership coming short of denouncing the action; youve likely worked yourself in to a corner. a corner thats not going to be favorable when you need to pass your tax and appropriations bill through that house of congress this year. you know... its not that its a member of congress that bugs me. its not that its purely politcal that bugs me. its that it was carried out on a saturday night, with no warrant, for something like bribes. something that happens every freaking day in DC. sigh. it was clear when we nailed up James Trafficant, from ohio, a few years back, that it was somewhat politcally charged... but even then, they took out warrants, had hearings, then sent him off to trial. and they had him dead to rights... but now, we pull out the Justice Department, ransack a federal congressional office, and dont bother to get this one written up before we head out. and where is it that people are coming across with the thoughts of not trusting their president? where do we come up with outlandish ideas about the 4th amendment... even granting members of congress additional privilege under the law; but we cant call one judge first. not one.

look. im not crying about busting yet another rotten member of congress. im not sad to see him go. but what shocks me is how we go about doing it. once i matured and started thinking about how our system of laws is based, it took me a long time to wrap my mind around the decisions the Warren and Burger courts made to how we arrive at justice in this country. but for crying out loud, if its a sitting member of congress, how will it help you to bring him down in this way? i just cant figure this out. and people are going to start moaning about bush did this, bush is bad, bush is evil; and in all likelihood it was something only mentioned to him at a meeting that morning. but the story is going to turn out to be a real motherfucker, if anything turns up calling anyone less than clean about this whole thing...

being my first day off of the week, i decided i should do something. but i slept in. about 10:30 i wake up. mad, because i wanted to get things done, but happy because i slept from about 11pm till then and appearantly didnt roll or toss or move once in my sleep. but i woke up to the familiar chirp of IM. sometimes im tired and lazy enough to leave my speakers on, and generally i dont hear it. today i slept through my alarm. but this woke me up. one message. one ding. and im glad it did. i got to talk to sarah, and she and i hadnt really spoken for quite a while. so after an hour and a half, i thought maybe the day would be ok. thats when i got the phone call about my visa card. that wasnt so good. i ended up mowing and trimming the yards. guh. then stopping at the shop to get my tire fixed. normally, id do this myself. but ive never had a roofing nail go through the deep portion of my tread, stay imbedded, and hardly leak. i wasnt certain, when i looked at it in the day light yesterday, that it had penetrated the inner piles... so i wasnt sure whether or not id have to use a liquid sealant and a tube patch, or just a patch. if i guessed wrong, say for a tube only [aka a plug], i wouldnt be able to seal through the air sealing piles, and it would be much too big a space for liquid sealant. so i broke down and took it in. 14 dollars later, they fixed it and i was back in business. while i waited for them to re assemble i ventured around the shop looking at various chemicals. and i spied a red bottle... called Mothers Back-To-Black. if anyone has seen the jeep, youve noticed the sun/uv fade thats greyed out my handles, rock guards and bumper trim. supposedly this bottle would change that. in the past ive run into shit that claims to work, but its either slimy armor-all wannabes that dont alter the color, or they are just dyes to match the color back. so i bought the bottle. and i have to say, im quite impressed. so much so, that i didnt even know that my rear bumper had a black stripe on it. that impressed. i washed it good with water, let it dry. then applied this stuff on it. and as soon as i put it on, i was in awe. seriously. if you have a car thats got some sun fade on vinyl, plastic, and misc non-metal trim... try this. i couldnt believe it. anyways, just rather bored and was quite excited about how well it detailed out the car. its noticeable.

my first run in with fraudulent credit card use came yesterday. no. I didnt do it. about 4pm, i received a call from visa. after the standard 39 questions to authenticate that i was myself, i was informed that someone was attempting to secure a purchase for 659 dollars on a website using my card. i was shocked. it wasnt that id ever protested that this would never happen to me. i guess, though, i never knew it would have been so easy for it to happen. other than that, visa couldnt tell me anything else. wouldnt mention if they knew who was using my card number, or what they were going to do about it. instead, they were closing out my account and reissuing me a new account. and im still somewhat in shock about it.

random thought.

you ever just read something on a webpage, and have it kill something inside of you? i guess its different for everyone... but stumbling across something on a webpages can just kill a mood. really fast. like if youd see a relative had died in an accident; or they were raising property tax 25% percent; or that your ex-wife remarried a son of a billionaire, who is half your age with twice your hair. something that just knocks the wind out of your proverbial sails. but it shouldnt. i dont know anymore. sometimes i guess i hold this image in my head. just a simple fantasy. thats, i guess, divergent from reality just enough to make me happy. not alot. im not a king, im not rich, im not famous. but its just something that i can close my eyes and go, "that would really make me happy now" and to flip around the web and find something that pokes a needle in the vein to burst it. sigh.

so some old crazy woman came in the store today. she had 3 plungers in her cart. while im helping someone, i look over and see her SNIFFING the plungers. first one, then the second, then the third. then the second again. then all of them. why i do not know. so i finish my sentence to a guy about a sump pump, and this crazy woman pushes her cart into me, gives me some derrnaged, "im out on bail and im fucking nuts!!!!" stare, and shrieks at me....

"how do you get the stink out?"

i blink.

"well how do you get the stink out of them?"

she goes back to putting the cup of the plunger an inch from her face, and starts furiously snorting. i laugh at her. the customer i was helping looks freightened. so i tell her she should wash it some scented soap once or twice.

"will that take the STINK OUT?!", as she rolls her eyes around and stops sniffing.

....


what the hell is wrong with people.....