Archive for August, 2001

My Snowball’s Chance

Hmm. Things are odd. I’m not sure how I feel about Her anymore. I’m changing again and as much as I should like what the outcome is supposed to be, I’m afraid. I stayed out until 5a last night talking to this girl I like. We sat on her couch cuddling. She told me that I haven’t got a chance (these are not her exact words, however). I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I think I was sort of counting on her to help me get through the summer. I’ve been in my parent’s basement all summer for the second year in a row. At least she’ll still cuddle with me.

I’m not convinced that I’ll ever find someone who’ll want me. Or appreciate me, for that matter. I thought of a cool idea for a poem today, so I’m going to try to work on it at work tonight. I think it will help me remember what things were like when I was with Her. I’m not sure if that’s what I need. I think what I need is to get Her out of my system. When She and I were together I felt like a million bucks. Now I need to spend and spend until there’s nothing left. I’ll always save a little, though. A nest egg, if you will. What a stupid metaphor; I’m an idiot.

Today’s forecast: Warmer temperatures with the possibility of showers.

Big Day

I just saw the best commercial ever. The new Jetta ad called Big Day is amazing. I can’t find the words to describe it. And the music! My god. My heart races and I almost cry everytime I watch it. Be sure to d/l the version from Volkswagen website since it’s the full version. One of these days I’m going to kill myself over a woman just because it’s so fucking romantic. I’m dying over here.

EDIT: I’m amazed that the link to commercial still works, but disappointed by that fact that it’s a slightly different version of the spot. -TJB 23 September 2004

14 million x 12 million

Wow. I’m a real wild-child. I’m at work right now (at the radio station). You should see the setup I’ve got in here. You see, the computer I’m on right now is the only one I have access to that has access to the Internet. Thing is, no one is supposed to know that it has Internet access. The point of the computer is to broadcast our signal over the Internet; something the station stopped doing over a year ago. But the computer is still configured for it, which means it’s also still hooked up to the Net. The only problem with using it is that it’s in the production room, not the broadcast booth. Now, being 1337, I’ve got plenty of cat-5 cable just hanging around waiting to be used. So I snagged one that I felt would be sufficient in length and brought it to work with me. After a whole bunch of moving things around and hauling the damn thing into the booth, I hooked it up and fired it up. Success. I am a golden god. So here I am, blogging from work, like a naughty DJ.

While it’s nice to be able to sit at the board and blog (or do whatever), the situation is not without its downside. For instance, should anyone randomly show up (two people have already, which is very odd for 10pm on a Friday night at a Jazz station, in Cheney…), I could get into big trouble (and perhaps lose my job, though I wouldn’t count this as a huge offense). Also, the computer is a Macintosh (gag, cough) with a maximum screen resolution of 8×6 (hundred). Argle. I yearn for my 14 million x 12 million, or whatever it is I keep it on. The highest my monitor and computer will allow (and I suppose the graphics card has something to do with it). If my computer could achieve higher resolutions, I would view on them. I don’t understand why more people don’t switch to 1024×768. It’s not my personal choice, but it’s a lot better than 8×6. At least we’re past 640×480 (although I’m sure some people are still using it somewhere). My dad said he has this thing on his computer that told him that the optimal resolution was no longer 8×6, but 1024×768. So there you go. Change your frickin’ resolution you nub.

Copycat

Now She’s saying things to other people that I said to Her first. Nice to know my love for Her is helping boost Her other relationships. For fuck’s sake.

My Deepest Sympathies

Today I learned some very depressing news. I found out that a guy who worked at my high school and who was the father to one of my friends from high school died. He died 28 May 2001, a mere week before his 58th birthday =and= his daughter’s graduation. He was so cool! There was nothing he couldn’t fix, it was awesome. He touched the lives of kids from k-12 for years. Kids called him ‘Mr. Fix-it’ and loved to hear his golf-cart driving around. People would shout greetings to him from across campus. There was almost no one who didn’t know him, appreciate him and love him. He will always be remembered. His name was Chester and he was a hero.

Tom from Hastings is cool. Must be the name. -)

So, yesterday was interesting. I can’t remember everything that happened, but I do remember it was pretty damn cool. I woke up from a decent night’s sleep and had a great idea for an amusement park ‘ride’ that would force patrons to think and solve problems. Sort of a house of mirrors, but far more difficult and diverse. Also, I finished editing Penthouse Live – Episode #2 (as it’s officially being called). Well, finished in that I have a rough to work with. I previewed it today and am going to make a few quick changes before I export the final-rough (make sense?). Then, on to Episode #3 (wherein Chad and Phoenix take totally opposing stands on the same issue. Again).

So I was in Hasting’s yesterday looking for D8 tapes (which I found out from Magnolia Hi-Fi are just Hi8 tapes). I poked my nose through their techno and found a couple of older Basement Jaxx albums, so that’s cool. I’ll have to go back there with some money. Anyway, while I was there I noticed they had a big Moulin Rouge sign that was an ad for the soundtrack. I asked the guy working there if I could get my hands on it after they were done with it, since I collect Moulin Rouge schwag. He picked up the sign, looked it over, then handed it to me saying, ‘we’ve had it for a long time anyway.’ I was so stunned! It was great! I’ve seen these things go on eBay for an incredulous amount of money.

What else? One of my sister’s friends spent the night who we hadn’t seen in a long time, so it was neat to see her again, but that’s not everything. I keep thinking there was something else I wanted to blog about. I don’t remember, oh well. Take it easy kids.

Today’s forecast: Life still sucks. Dress appropriately.

Suicide Is Painless

‘Through early morning fog I see

Visions of the things to be

The pains that are withheld for me

I realize and I can see:

That suicide is painless

It brings on many changes

And I can take or leave it if I please.

The game of life is hard to play

I’m gonna lose it anyway

The losing card I’ll someday lay

So this is all I have to say:

Suicide is painless

It brings on many changes

And I can take or leave it if I please.’

from Suicide is Painless by Johnny Mandel (also the theme to M*A*S*H)

Tis Better To Have Loved And Lost

I. Of A Life Without Love

“every true story — that is to say, every love story — is a sad one. because if anything about life on earth rings true, it’s unfulfilled yearning, unmet longing, dissatisfaction. the characters that initially seem so simple often turn out to be so tragic, and before long, you realize that there are no simple characters, and that all of them are tragic.1

Why is it that love must be so complex? Compared to love, all other emotions seem so simple to deal with. We’re the smartest creatures on earth, we’re living in the age of information, yet something which should be so simple remains a mystery. What causes love? What =IS= love, really? I had a girlfriend once who asked me what I thought love was and how you knew. I gave her an answer which, at that point in time, I believed to be true. I now know that the question cannot be answered. I don’t know what love is and there is no way to know for sure.

The dictionary defines love as “attraction based on sexual desire” (in the sense of two people “inspired by affection”). If this is the case, then love, as we know it, is nothing more than what is commonly referred to as lust. If this is the case, then what is love? We need a new word for it. Far be it for me to make up a new word. The problem is, even if we make up a new word, no one will stop using love. Say the word. Right now, out loud. Love. Feels good, doesn’t it? The word stirs up emotions of, well, love! Even if you don’t know what love is, or you’ve never been in love, there’s something there when you say it, when you think about it. It’s instinctual, you know that love is the only real magic, the richest treasure in the world, the only sure thing in the universe, even if you’ve never been graced by it.

Do you love your mother? Prove it. How do you know? Why do you love her? Because you’re supposed to? Because she brought you into this world? Didn’t your father also have something to do with that? Because she fed you, clothed you and raised you? Is it because you feel you owe her something? Of course not. It’s because, that’s why. There =are= no answers. You can answer yes to any of the above, but surely it’s deeper than that. Even if you can’t stand one (or both) of your parents, don’t you still love them? What about love for friends? There’s some sort of devotion to true friends; a feeling that you’d do anything for them. My point is that there are different kinds of love; kinds not based on sexual desire (although if you subscribe to the idea of the Oedipus Complex, then I suppose love for your mother could be, on some basic level, sexual desire).

I spoke earlier of other emotions. I find it interesting that love can be a catalyst for all other emotions. Love can lead to joy, sadness, misery, happiness, depression, anger, jealousy, et hoc genus omne. Love can inspire men to great ends, or drive them to their wit’s ends. I’ve been on both sides of the court, and there is definitely a better side to be on.

Why can’t we understand love? You know when you’re jealous, you know when you’re angry, you know when you’re happy, but you don’t know, for sure, when you’re in love. That is, unless you use the dictionary definition, you don’t know.

On Bolt, I have a tagbook (for those who don’t know, a tagbook is sort of a poll or survey) which poses the following question: “If you love something and you set it free and it comes back to you, then it’s yours forever. But if you love something and you set it free and it doesn’t come back, then what the hell are you supposed to do?” The responses I’ve gotten vary widely. Most people have said cry a lot and try to get it back. I have, and folks, it doesn’t always work out, I’m afraid (that’ll be the topic for my next blog-essay).

Love is supposed to be the end-all emotion. It’s supposed to be the best of all the emotions. While you’re in love, you’re on cloud nine, you feel like you’re floating. Every particle in your body tingles and fizzes and you want to cry for being so happy. Nothing can trouble you or bring you down because you’re on top of the world. And when love ends, words can’t describe. Not that you’d want to read about it, anyway. One of my ex’s and I always had this thing about “no words.” It was supposed to mean that we loved each other so much, no words could begin to describe how we felt about one another. And that still rings true. No words can describe the way I feel without her.

II. Of Life and Love

“every true story — that is to say, every love story — is a happy one. because there’s hope where there’s need, and salvation where there’s desperation. somehow, strength is perfected through weakness.1

Love, for all the hardships it can bring, is wonderful. As I said before, when you’re in love, nothing can get you down. It’s a natural high. Think of all that love inspires. People want to spontaneously do nice things for one another. If you’ve got a crush on someone, you ask them out on a date. Usually the date involves dinner (or some meal) and a movie (or some form of entertainment), to which the person who was asked out is treated. The asker is, society teaches us, expected to pay both ways. What a nice thing to do for someone! Who wouldn’t want this?

It’s society that also causes people to turn others down. I was uncool until college. Now people seem to fancy me a pretty interesting guy. But many of the social groups that existed in high school (and even grade school) can be seen in college. Granted, most people don’t care about cliques and such in college, but the people who were part of the “in crowd” in high school seem to try and perpetuate that in college (which I think is funny. They now have to deal with being just as worthless as the rest of us). Anyway, back in high school it was hard to ask out the girls I found attractive because most of them had an image to uphold. Going out with me would stir the pot a little too much, apparently. I now consider it their loss, but at the time it wasn’t so easy to dismiss. Society, once again, takes a potentially uplifting situation and drags it down.

Love inspires more than just free dinners, however. It seems like at least 80% of songs that exist are about love, in some way or another. Take one fresh and tender kiss. Add one stolen night of bliss. One girl, one boy, some grief, some joy. Memories are made of this. That’s Dean Martin, by the way (for the unsavvy (and everyone in my generation who listen to crappy music)). It’s interesting how I could never find songs to describe the way I felt until recently. Then I came across Ben Harper and David Gray and Gaelic Storm. Black =is= the Colour of my true love’s hair.

III. Of Lovers Past

Sometimes I wonder if She thinks about me. I think about Her all the damn time, there’s nothing I can do about it. And I compare. I compare people to Her. I don’t mean to do it, and I certainly don’t want to, but I do. She understood me better than anyone else, ever. She could look in my eyes and just know. Know what I was thinking, what I was feeling, what sort of mood I was in. When I was with Her, there was nothing else. And now that I’m without Her, there’s no one else.

At least, that’s the way I feel. I spent about two or three hours laying awake last night thinking about Her. I am, for the record, admitting that I am still in love with Her. I am admitting that I am not over Her. I am admitting that I am =very= jealous of everyone She goes out with. And I am realizing that it is destroying my life. I want to live in the past because I was happy then. I want to live in the past because I was with Her then. I want to go back to a life more ordinary. But of course, I can’t have that. I can’t go back and relive my life.

In the Terry Pratchett novels, Death (not the action, but the anthropomorphic personification) says “EVERYONE GETS WHAT THEY THINK IS COMING TO THEM.” Ergo, “bad people who think they’re going to some paradise actually do get there. And good people who fear they’re going to some kind of horrible place really suffer.” Perhaps if my idea of heaven is for things to be back how they were, and I kill myself, then I’ll be with Her for all of eternity.

Misery is an option.


1: Excerpts from Instant Loser.

UPDATE: Removed dead link to instantloser.com (which I now own, by the way). – TJB 23 September 2004

UPDATE: I no longer own instantloser.com. – TJB 07 October 2005

Do Bunnies Dream In Color?

I just got back from the 92nd annual 4-H fair of Hunters, WA. Never heard of it? Me either, until last year, that is. My dad works for the Steven’s County Rural Library System which has a library located in Hunters, a town whose population can be counted on about three people’s digits. Now, the point of my being there (both last year and this) was to take pictures of the people who live there as a promotional thing to get people interested in the library and all it has to offer (which, for a town like that, is a lot. They even have a computer with a 56k modem!). This is a town where the parade includes not only classic cars and fire engines (yes, they throw candy here too), but tractors and people riding on horses in their long-johns. The grand marshal this year was an older mentally-handicapped gentleman who, when he visited my booth for a picture, was covered in his own vomit. The booth was a huge hit, everyone wanted their pictures taken. It was great. We had roughly double the business we had last year (which has no real bearing on anything since we don’t charge anything for the pictures). There was a brother and sister who had a rabbit and seemed quite keen on me. They hung out and we talked for quite a while about all sorts of stuff. The brother was really interested in the camera and the computer I was using (a Kodak digital and a Dell laptop), while the girl just seemed interested in me. I don’t think I would have minded her flirting had she been older (well, I didn’t acutally mind the flirting at all, it was just funny to see). She was attractive, but far too young. It was cute, though. She kept coming back and having me take her picture (with the rabbit for whom they couldn’t decide on a name) long after her brother had left. This, of course, was all after my five hours of sleep last night and about 2 hours of driving to get there. Then 2 hours back. Now I have to cook dinner. It’s going to be an early night for me tonight.

Now who’s the Instant Loser?

mwproductions12 (1:16:29 AM): Do I have the right to be jealous? I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen other people since we broke up.

scottraymond (1:17:20 AM): It doesn’t seem like rights have anything to do with feelings.

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