Date: Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Time: 22:01
Place: Home

Here is a paper I wrote for my Humanities Class. I am putting it here for all those that were unable to read it.

The Diary

Day 3:

Stopped at a freshwater spring I found. I brought more than 3 days worth of water, but when you come upon a spring like this, with clean, fresh water, you have to stop and drink some of it.

Day 15:

Found an area overgrown with flora, took longer than I thought to get through it all. Will rest for a bit and continue on tomorrow.

Day 35:

Found another overgrown area, but this one had edible fruit. Decided to take what I could carry.

Day 48:

Found a village, the first people I’ve seen since I started this, I guess you could call it a “quest”. They wouldn’t take money for the food I would eat. Seems my money wasn’t worth anything here anyway, so we bartered. I gave them some fruit, and told them the story that brought me here.

Day 53:

I’m still in the village, exchanging tall tales with the natives. The village elders told me the story that has been passed down from father to son over the last hundred years. It’s a story about sounds of screaming coming from the sky, and night turning into day. They ask me if I have any stories like that. I tell them the story of “Thirty Days of Night”. Since neither of us believes the other, it’s all in fun.

Day 63:

I left the village 10 days ago and have had to stop for a while. I keep hearing animal noises, but have yet to see any animals. Since I don’t particularly desire to be some beast’s meal, I’ll stay where I am until the noises stop.

Day 70:

The noises finally stopped yesterday afternoon. It was then that I saw what was making the noises, well, one of them at least. It was like no animal I had ever seen. It had a head, feet, tail and a body, but it looked like it had been turned inside out.

Day 95:

I’ve reached my destination. I never thought I’d make it, but as I look at the landmark that tells me I’ve made it, I have to say, that even after a hundred years, now that the low ash levels means the air is breathable again, the Empire State Building is still an impressive site, even with the ivy growing all over it. But I can’t dawdle. I have some more to go before I reach the boat that will take me across the Atlantic River.

Date: Monday, August 25, 2008
Time: 22:30
Place: Home

sorry, nothing.

Date: Sunday, August 24, 2008
Time: 23:56
Place: Home

Just had a really good time this evening, and I'm really tired as a result.

Date: Saturday, August 23, 2008
Time: 22:16
Place: Home

Just in case anyone is interested, that story I wrote in the Threaded Discussion Area was started when Professor Kinsley gave us the topic. That's right, I started writing it in class that very evening. But I didn't use pen and paper, or even pencil and paper, I was writing it in my head.

So by the time I got home, and finished it, it took me a little over an hour, maybe two hours, to write that story.

Date: Friday, August 22, 2008
Time: 17:20
Place: Work

Okay, I am sick and tired of reading, hearing, and seeing the date, September 11, 2001, being abbreivated as 9/11. I have felt this way ever since the first pundit starting referring to it in that way.

Why do we have to shorten things? Are we in that much of a hurry to say things that we abbreviate them?

I am sick of "Brangelina" "TomKat" and all the other mashed up names people feel they have to use. This is tantamount to "chatspeak", and I am sick and tired of it.

I'm surprised we don't hear newsreaders use 12/7 when talking about Pearl Harbor, or is that off-limits because it led to the United States entering into World War II? And while I'm on that topic, we keep hearing how people want September 11 turned into a national holiday of some sort. Why not "Pearl Harbor Day"? Oh no, can't suggest that. Or what about "Titanic Day"? Hm? Oh, wait, that should be 4/12, or TD.

enuff w/abbreviations!

Date: Friday, August 22, 2008
Time: 12:44
Place: Work

Yesterday, I found out that I was late with a project for another class, and I had to get it in before next week, or else lose the grade entirely.

By the time I got to it, and finished it, it was almost midnight, and I was so worn out, I just forgot to make an entry.

So here's one to make up for it, and I may, or may not have something for tonight.

Date: Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Time: 15:19
Place: Work

I'll try and make this quick what with me being at work and all.

I may have stated in a previous post that I like old movies. One of the films I like to watch, especially during the holidays is "March of the Wooden Soldiers" with Laurel and Hardy. The story takes place in Toyland, Stan and Ollie are boarders with the Old Woman who lived in a Shoe, and work at the toy factory making special orders for Santa.

Stan gets an order mixed up, and as a result, 100 6-foot tall wooden soldiers are made.

These come in especially handy later in the film when Toyland is under attack by Silas Barnaby and his army of Boogiemen. For a while Stan and Ollie are able to fight the Boogiemen off by using clubs and darts. While in the toy warehouse, Ollie sends Stan for more darts. He sees the wooden soldiers and gets an idea.

When he comes back to Ollie he says "You know what?" To which Ollie replies, "What?" "The Wooden Soldiers"

Some years ago, when I worked at Prudential Financial, one of the guys on the day shift had also seen this movie more than a few times. When we discussed the hilarity of some scenes over others, we developed a method to test the other to see how alert each of us was at any given moment. One of us would say to the other "You know what?" to which the other one was to reply, "The Wooden Soldiers", we would then smile at each other, content with our cleverness, and continue working. If the proper reply was not given, doubts about that person's mental acuity were cast, and at volumes loud enough for those nearby to hear.

Date: Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Time: 22:53
Place: Home

I will now quote from a song by Jo Dee Messina.

"My Give A Damn's Busted"

Which is how I feel right now, so that's all you're gonna get out of me.

Date: Monday, August 18, 2008
Time: 23:50
Place: Home

Sorry, almost had something for a minute.

But now it's gone.

Date: Monday, August 18, 2008
Time: 00:44
Place: Home

I've had a lot on my mind lately and that's why this post is so late. I had meant to do this earlier, but got distracted.

Unfortunately, this is where it ends.

Date: Saturday, August 16, 2008
Time: 23:11
Place: Home

When I have had the occasion to be in a relationship, invariably, it ends. When that happens I proceed to eliminate everything that connects me to that person. I get rid of phone numbers, addresses, any gifts I might have been given. I keep the memories because I can't help but remember things, but everything else, gone.

It's sort of like cleaning a crime scene before the police show up.

I was once admonished for doing that, but I explained that there was no need for me to hang on to any keepsakes. Once a relationship is over, it's done, finito, gone with the wind. No need for any physical reminders.

Therefore, once I am sure that I will not need any of the links, or folders, or any files that I have created during my time at DeVry, I will get rid of them. This goes for any books I feel I can get rid of as well.

True, this might be considered burning bridges, but like I said, "No need for physical reminders." That goes for files and folders, as well as books and notes.

Date: Friday, August 15, 2008
Time: 23:25
Place: Home

Sorry, just not into it.

Date: Thursday, August 14, 2008
Time: 23:46
Place: Home

I don't know what it is, but I don't feel like making much of an entry. Again.

Sorry.

Date: Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Time: 23:04
Place: Home

I was going to write something about my brother, what with this being his birthday and all, but now I don't feel like it.

Right now I feel as though I've wasted my life with jobs I don't like, schools I never wanted to attend, and women who were all wrong for me, but never wanted to admit that they were.

I know I've said it before, and quite frankly, I don't care, but I don't belong here. Not just at DeVry, not just where I'm working, but I don't belong in this world, and I mean this planet.

I'm beginning to believe that the mind that is inhabiting this particular body belongs somewhere else. I don't know where, I don't even know when, but not here, not now, and not to this being that's typing this garbage.

Date: Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Time: 22:56
Place: Home

Once again, I can't really think of anything to write. My head is too jammed up with schoolwork.

I might come up with something better tomorrow.

Date: Monday, August 11, 2008
Time: 22:42
Place: Home

Earlier today, I had an idea or two for what I would post this evening. Unfortunately, those ideas faded.

So once again, I have nothing of any relevance to say.

Maybe tomorrow.

But I'm not promising anything.

Date: Sunday, August 10, 2008
Time: 23:49
Place: Home

Sorry, no witty title, nothing humorous in the body of the post.

I don't feel like it today.

Just posting so I'm not the reason the class doesn't get the privilege we earn if everyone posts.

I don't even feel like changing the font.

Date: Saturday, August 9, 2008
Time: 21:52
Place: Home

Change. The owner of an Army-Navy Store once said to me, "Change, Don't like it in my life, or my pocket." It might sund fairly humorous, but I doubt if anyone really likes when things change. It's different, it's something new, or a re-hash of something we've seen before. In either case, I'm not fond of it. I approach change the same way I approached my entrance into this world, kicking and screaming. Ironically, it's how I plan on approaching my exit as well.

I accept it after a while, but I fight it as long as I am able. Yeah, I know, it's a losing battle, with me on the losing side, but by jing, change will know it's been in a fight if it dares cross my path!

So there. :-Þ

Gang Aft Agley

Date: Friday, August 8, 2008
Time: 23:17
Place: Home

The title of this entry is from a poem by Robert Burns. It's called "To A Mouse". It is often misquoted as "The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray".

Anyway, some plans I've been making lately have been gang aft agley. In fact, I've been reluctant to not only make any plans, but I've been reluctant to talk about them if I've made any at all.

Take last week, I planned to go to this park I like and sit and read, and then sit and watch the world go by. By the time I made ready to leave, it started raining. By the time it stopped, I felt it was too late to be going down to the park.

Then there was this past week, I'd wanted something for dinner, the place I went to didn't have what I wanted, so I went somewhere else.

Then today, I'd made some sandwiches for my lunch, and I forgot to bring them.

No more planning for a while.

At least, that's the plan.

Date: Thursday, August 7, 2008
Time: 23:41
Place: Home

I was going to put this as the title, but felt it would have been trite. It was this, "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

I had mentioned a while back that there was something going on at work that involved attorneys. Well, recently, it looked as though what I was doing was over, but now I find that it isn't. There's some technical stuff that has to be done before it's over with.

So maybe the title could have been "Technology, Take It or Leave It" and believe me, there are times when I want to leave it. Except for maybe electric lights, record players, radios, and the electric typewriter. I can honestly do without television, but if the episodes of certain shows I like were available as film reels, I wouldn't say no.

I bring up the foibles of technology because I got another statement from an educational institution we all know, stating I owe money. After a lengthy time on "Hold", I was informed, again, that their new finance system was experiencing teething pains, and I was to ignore the notice. I thought to myself "Ain't technology grand?" This is something I say at times when technology, computer technology to be precise, fails in some way.

That's all I have time for right now. I'm very hungry and I don't want my hot dogs to get cold.

Is There REALLY Such A Thing As "Good" Grief?

Date: Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Time: 23:33
Place: Home

We were given an assignment in class today. We were told to write what we would do if the world as we, ourselves knew it, was going to end. What I wrote was rather short, maybe two sentences, so I will elaborate on it a bit here.

So, I have been given the news that my world, or the world, will end.

It is very likely that, like everyone else, I will experience, and go through, the Stages of Grief.

There are usually five of them:

Denial:
Example - "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening."

Anger:
Example - "Why me? It's not fair!" "NO! NO! How can you accept this!"

Bargaining:
Example - "Just let me live to see my children graduate."; "I'll do anything, can't you stretch it out? A few more years."

Depression:
Example - "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die . . . What's the point?"

Acceptance:
Example - "It's going to be OK."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."

And some believe there are seven stages, with the addition of Shock and Guilt. Although, if the reason the world is ending is an act of nature, I can't see feeling guilty, unless it's as a result of this so-called "global warming", and something I, or everyone else did contributed to it, then I can see it.

After going through several of those stages, I would then pack as much as I knew I would need, and go down to Florida to spend the remaining time with my father, who is the only family I have left.

Date: Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Time: 22:48
Place: Home

In my last entry, I began asking nonsensical questions, and making nonsensical statements. This put me in mind of a speech that is supposed to be a parody of a normal speech. Unfortunately, I can't recall who wrote it, who said it, where I heard it, where I read it, or what the contents speech are.

There., don't you feel well-informed?

Unluckily for you, I plan on finding that speech if it kills you, especially after you've read it.

But, rather than leave you feeling empty, as though you've read this blog for nothing, I will share with you some differences in language, the English language.

If you were to walk into a store, or shop as they call it over in England, and ask for a pair of suspenders, depending on your gender, you might get a funny look. Well, it also depends on where the shop is located. You see, over there, what we call suspenders are referred to as braces, what they refer to as suspenders are what we call a garter belt.

A truck is a lorry.

A bus is a coach.

The Underground is what we call a Subway, and to them, a Subway is a walkway under the street.

A crosswalk is a zebra crossing (and they pronounce "zebra" with a short e as in the word "get")

An elevator is a lift.

And, in order to be considered a true "cockney" you must be born "within the sound of Bow's Bells". In other words, if you were born in the vicinity of Bow Church, meaning that when the bells were rung, they could be heard in the area you were born in.

In short, Dick Van Dyke is not a true cockney, and still has a price on his head if he were to ever wander into the East End.

Or so I've been told.

Date: August 4, 2008
Time: 23:21
Place: Home

Once again, there is no title for the entry I'm making. Reason being, I'm not feeling very creative lately. I'm not even sure if I can write for 10 minutes this evening. I'm only making this entry because I don't want to be the one that caused the class to experience a punishment set down by our professor.

While a deal didn't really need to be struck to get me to write in this blog, in fact, a deal didn't have to be made to get me to write in this blog every day. But what must be understood is that as creative as I imagine myself, and as talented a writer as I purport myself to be, I am a human being and therefore subject to faults and foibles.

Among these faults and foibles are the suffering of writers block, incoherency, and just plain falling asleep and forgetting to make an entry. For instance, I can't think of what I should write next. Okay, here's something, and it may sound like Andy Rooney, but, ever notice how people spend so much time telling you how speechless they are about something?

How about this? "Patience is a virtue". If this is true, I don't feel very virtuous. If Silence is Golden, what is noisy, all that gold hitting the ground? Or how about this one? "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" What kind of BS is that? "If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it swear because it tripped?"

I have a question: What the hell is so fantastic about Cilantro? Every cooking show in existence seems to swear by it. Now that's where people should invest, cilantro farms.

Date: August 3, 2008
Time: 23:49
Place: Home

My mood right now is less than stellar. It's usually less than stellar but right now, it's worse.

In the other class I'm taking, Critical Thinking, I had to answer a Threaded Discussion about DeVry's Mission Statement. Two of my classmates did not take kindly to my negative outlook regarding DeVry. They questioned why I was spending all this time and money going to a school I do not particularly like.

I informed them that I came to DeVry because I thought it was what I was supposed to do since I have a background in working in a data center.

What I did not tell them, and quite frankly this is none of their damn business, that sometimes a decision is made in haste. In other words, I'm an idiot.

I enrolled in DeVry because I thought I had to, I thought it was the only option I could take.

Yes, I don't like a lot of the classes, I don't like what DeVry Inc. has done in regards to firing 145 people nationwide, I don't like the fact that many classes are only 8 weeks in length, when some should have remained at 15, I don't like a lot of things about DeVry, especially the tuition, but now that I'm here, now that I've been here for this long, and even when I could have dropped out clean, there's one thing that people should know about me:

I DON'T QUIT!

Wouldn't Wish This On My Worst Enemy... Besides, I Have Something Else Planned For Him

Date: August 2, 2008
Time: 11:11
Place: Home

Yesterday, while I was at work, I suddenly became very angry, and I couldn't understand why. I had no idea what was making me angry, or if anything actually made me angry, I was just angry.

And then I figured it out, it's August. August is when my brother was born, it's also when he died.

My brother Joel was born on August 13, 1961. There were times, and that was most of the time, when he was the biggest pain in the ass you never wanted to meet. Whenever he made plans with me to have lunch somewhere, he was never on time, he was always late. Then, when he would finally show up, lunch was never simple, we would go to someplace to eat, we'd have an appetizer, and then he'd want to go somewhere else! Drove me nuts. Although when he adopted a Kosher lifestyle, we'd only eat at one place as there aren't many Kosher restaurants he wanted to eat at, or could find.

Let me give you a better example of his, let's call it "tardiness".

Many years ago, he decided he wanted to go live in Israel. On the day he was supposed to fly, he goes and tells my father that he has no one to drive him to the airport. The friend that was supposed to do it, bailed at the last minute. My brother imparts this information at 9:30 that morning. The flight was at 10:00 am! And worse, he wasn't even packed!

Another way he was late was when we would go out somewhere as a family. This didn't happen often, but this is what would occur when it did.

We'd be all ready to go, the taxi was called, and no sooner do I put my hand on the doorknob than Joel cries out "Wait! I have to go to the bathroom!" And it didn't matter where we were going. We could have had tickets to the Inaugural Ball, the President's limo could have been waiting downstairs, and we're stuck waiting for my brother. One of the times this happened, I just left the apartment. I figured I'd rather wait downstairs in the fresh air than in the apartment while my mother comes to a boil and starts yelling at him, at my father, and anyone else in range of her mouth.

It was this particular annoying habit that prompted the following conversation between me and my mother. My brother had contracted HIV, and when I had gotten back from London, he was in the hospital. After visiting him one day, I called my mother to vent, well actually I called my parents but my mother was the one who usually answered the phone. So we're talking, and I said "Y'know ma, it would be just like Joel. The Angel of Death comes for him, Joel looks up at him and says "Wait, I have to go to the bathroom first!"" My mother burst out laughing for a good five or ten minutes. She told the leader of the PWA group they belong to (Persons With AIDS), and the leader says "That's good, he's using humor as a defense mechanism."

My brother died on August 2, 1995, 13 years ago today.

When we got to the cemetery, his coffin was already there. It was the only time he was ever early.

Auntie Pandora

Date: Friday, August 1, 2008
Time: 19:45
Place: Home

I am a pessimist. For those that know me, this should come as no surprise, what they will be surprised at is the fact that I am admitting it. Although, I've never made a secret of being less than upbeat, or positive about a lot of things.

For instance, the recent goings on at my job. One day my boss calls me and says that "there's a light at the end of the tunnel." I replied, "Yeah, it's the headlights of an oncoming train." You know the old saw about the glass being half empty/half full? Well, in my world, the glass is half empty, the glass is cracked, and it's leaking, which is why it's half empty, the glass is dirty, and there's a film of some kind on the surface of the water. And, it's all the fault of the government.

Oh, and lately, there's some sort of bug floating in it.

Now, most people would tell me that all I have to do is hope for the best. That's fine, that's great advice, and it would work quite well, if I had any hope.

You all should know the story of Pandora, how she opened a box that contained all the evils of mankind, but that it also contained hope, and it was hope that got saved once she finally closed the box after opening it when she shouldn't have.

In my case, I don't know if I ever had any hope. I'm not sure if I had it, and then lost it along the way, or if I never had it in the first place, and falsely believed I had it, but then realized that I was wrong. All I do know is a lot of what has happened to me over the years is my own fault, I admit this freely and without reservation, but I need to find my way to where I belong.

Yeah, I know, you've heard this before, but face it, I don't care. I don't feel as if I fit in anywhere and now that I'm not sure if I ever had any hope of fitting in, or belonging, I need some help.

And all of the therapists in the world aren't going to do it either.