It's Been A While

My life is relatively consistent. I've been spending a good deal of time watching the TV show "Heroes", which is essentially X-Men, but in a cool TV show. And the bad guy is immensely cooler. I guess I really watch the show for the character of Sylar. If you ever watch Heroes, I recommend not thinking too much.

I was reading reviews on imbd.com to see what some people thought of the show, and too many people aren't allowing themselves the ability to just sit and watch something unfold. To be taken away and swept away in a storyline. These people that hate the show all say the same things; 'the plots are too complicated', 'the characters are too predictable', 'they spend too much time with filler', etc. etc.

What do they expect? The writers and creators are trying to make it seem like a plausible, real world scenario. Lives occasionally get boring. Little mundaine things happen in everyones lives, and in the search to find the happy medium between 'always high adrenaline', and 'realistic storylines'.

But like I said, I'm mostly watching the show for Sylar. Some of the comments say that he only ever uses the one power that he stole, rather than using all of the powers he's taken. But what people need to remember is that Sylar's kind of screwed up. The reasoning behind his ability is that he wants to see how things work. It's not so much that he wants to use the abilities he takes, (he does, but it's not the main factor), he wants to know how their brain allows it to work. That's blatently obvious in season three, episode one.

But what do I know? I love fantasy and scifi stuff regardless of whether it's good or not. However, if Heroes lasts a while, which it definitely has the potential to, then I obviously was right about the show's ability to be amazing. Yes, there are some episodes that are boring as all get out, but every series has those episodes. I mean, Stargate, in it's ten seasons, had a good twenty or thirty episodes that were dull. It happens.

I enjoy the show. It's captivating. The backstories on the chracters are the best. There are occasions that I don't care for where they're taking the chracters, but I don't have any real influence against them. I'm just a viewer.

Anyway, I could go on and on about this show, for a number of reasons. But I guess I just thought it would be best to, instead, just kind of point out that every show has it's good and bads. And too often people don't allow themselves to get caught up in the mystery of a show. More likely than not, they continually say things like, "there's no logic". No duh! Logic flies out the window when you bring anything fantasy into the mix. Reality gets slightly skewed and most of the time, logic is gone. Sometimes it stays for a while, but normally, because we are human, and because the writers try to create characters that are believable and real, they allow them to get frustrated and make the wrong decisions.

Okay, now I'm done.

Oh, and by the way, the guy who plays Sylar is pretty much gorgeous. Like I said, the main reason I watch the show. He's got the best background and the actor is amazing at portraying him. It makes me smile. Good actors seem to be in short supply anymore.

Fall Is Almost Here

Thank God for that. Summer is far too hot for too long. I would really love summer if it wasn't for the heat. Tonight on my fifteen minute break I walked outside and decided to spend the time sitting against the wall of Staples and just breathe for a while. It was really relaxing actually.

Soon the leaves will crunch, the air will be crisp, and I'll be able to see my breath as I walk down the street. And, best of all, I can start to wear long sleeved shirts. Don't ask me why, but there's something about having a really comfortable shirt covering my arms is just the most excellent feeling ever.

I was trying to kill time this morning between classes, so I drove up to Quakertown to take a look at the new Best Buy up at the Target shopping center. And I must say, it's much smaller than I had expected. And, I once again was ignored by every associate in the building. Okay, one guy smiled at me and said 'hi', but that was it. I walked the whole building and no one really said anything, let alone asking me if I was looking for anything specific. Which is completely consistent with every other Best Buy I've ever been in.

My hair is getting far too long. I feel the need to cut it all off again. Although through a good deal of thought, I've decided that I'm just going to go and get it layered sometime soon so I can later donate again to Locks of Love. It's just a thought, but I'd like to do it again...as much as I detest the idea of having long hair again.

I've discovered that I'm basically 2IC (second in command) in Tech at Staples. Amy mentioned that when Bill isn't there I'm in charge and then vice versa. Which is pretty dang cool. I guess it makes sense; we're the only two techs. I have the feeling that things may change if and when we get more techs in the building. Who knows? Amy was pretty dang happy when I offhandedly said that I may want to pursue a management position with Staples down the road. But that's just Amy. Like I said, who knows?

My mom is pretty well cool with whatever I do for the rest of my life. She seems to think that my strange...habits...are cool and considers them a gift. I don't get how she sees that, but hey, she doesn't think I'm a freak. That's what I was worried about.

My story is coming along. I'm on chapter eight. I'm thinking maybe two or three more chapters left. Yeah, I think some of the chapters will wind up being cut down, but it is just a first draft after all. I'm half excited and half terrified. It's the idea that having someone else read and criticize the work I've put all of myself into for the past year and a half is pretty scary. I don't want to fear it, but I do. I guess that's normal.

I'm back to recording quotes. I took a break for a while and now my lfie seems so dull. So I broke down and started keeping track again. I've laughed too much between then and now to let those moments disappear into the recess of my mind.

I miss hanging with him. Is that a problem? I think it is.

What I've Been Up To

Absolutely nothing. Now, that's not to say that I haven't been working my tail off at Staples, but it goes to say that I've done next to nothing fun in the past...month?

Okay, okay, okay, so Nancy had some of her friends over and I laughed a bit. But it just made me feel lonely. I mean, I don't really have any friends anymore. It's rather pathetic really. I have acquaintances, yes, but no one that's like, ecstatic to see me and hang out with me. In fact, it seems to be that everyone I knew from high school, (with the exception of maybe, four people), has been perfectly fine blatantly ignoring me.

Yeah, about that random emo-depressive paragraph...sorry.

In other news, I, regretfully, am staying home for another semester. Then, God willing, I'll be able to transfer somewhere I actually want to be...maybe acquire a social life in the process.

Yeah, my life is rather dull. Sorry about that.

Maybe the next entry will be a bit more...entertaining? I don't know. I'm in a weird mood. And felt compelled to write. 'Cause that makes sense.

I really, truly, deeply, hate writers block. Why my mind comes alive at nightfall is beyond me. Curses.

OKAY! Enough. The next segment shall be how my mind set has been for the past couple of months and the countless hours and days and weeks I've been wanting to off myself from massive amounts of stress from working at Staples.
Example number one: "If I just keep working, maybe they'll give me a raise. I could use a raise. I could use more money. If I just save a bit more, stay at home and just do nothing and hope everyone I know is having fun, that'll make me feel a bit better knowing that they're having fun. That makes sense right? Yeah, it's not like I have to be with everyone forever...or all the time...yeah. It's fine. I'll just watch some TV."
Example number two: "Why am I bothering? Regardless, I'm still going to wind up being like, a trillion dollars in debt after school. I work my tail off, and still have to pay for my stupid car, and my stupid bills, and my stupid phone that no one calls me on. Why am I caring so much?"
Example number three: "AGH. What's the point? No one notices that I care, no one notices that I pray for them every night before I close my eyes to rest for the night. Why, oh why, must I harbor such unnecessary care for others?"
Example number four: "No one sees what I see. Why can't this stupid thing come together right?? Why can't I get one simple little thing like an idea to form into a coherent sentence so that some complete stranger can understand my thought process with all of this? Why am I stuck? Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? Should I be devoting so much time and energy to it? Is it worth it?"
Example number five: "My brain hurts."

This has been a moment in the mindset of a psychopath. Join us next week where we discuss my inability to hold a relatively close relationship with anyone without destroying it for no reason whatsoever other than to cause unrelenting pain and feelings of worthlessness.

If anyone actually read this, I'll give you a cookie the size of your head.

Where's The Goodness In The World?

The wold is not justified, nor will it ever be. The good people get smacked around and abused while the bad are encouraged and cheered on. What's good is bad and bad is now good. When did this happen? When did we as humans decide to glorify cheating, stealing, lying, and the downright wrong? I feel as though it never was this crazy, this twisted, this corrupt.

I come home, my father struggles, I go to work, my coworkers struggle, I hang out with friends, my friends struggle, I talk with my sister, she struggles. They're all good people. They all do the right things, they're honest and true and just. They believe in goodness and love and happiness. Yet are harked upon and used and beaten until they don't want to fight anymore.

Today I wanted to scream out loud. Hearing that one of my friends found out her boyfriend she's living with is cheating on her. She's said enough's enough, but I don't get it one bit. She's a nice, caring, loving person. When was it decided that this jerk would think she not worthy of his attention and devotion that he would turn to another?

What does love mean anyway? Not as it should be meant, but as it is meant. It should be that when you say you love someone, that you are in love with someone, that it was true and deep and full of meaning. But somewhere along the lines, it's become this...dead word we throw into conversations to "show" someone we care. To "voice" our "love" for that person. We say "I love you" while laughing and joking around.

Would you take a bullet for every person you've said you love? Personally, I would. But I'm stupid, I believe in right not wrong and that there is a line between them. I'm the idiot that believes to spare another is to save a life and possibly allow it to grow and flourish. I'm the moron that would take a bullet for a stranger. And I mean that to the core of my being.

I suppose I'm just another person hoping that their voice will make a difference.

I'm so fed up with this planet and it's "justification" to things.



“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in the world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

Decisions, Decisions...

I am attempting to create my own business/networking cards. See, Staples has this lovely thing called the Business Card application over in Copy Center, and while messing around over there, I've decided that I'd like my own card. Mostly, it'll have a link to this website and my phone number and name. And the background a picture I took. Here's one of them:

I'm not entirely sure if I like these or not, I've made about six different designs each with a different picture I took or manipulated in some fashion. I've thrown around the idea of doing the Gallery in the Park this year (even though I'd have to pay for it), in hopes of possibly advertising my services. At the very least, let people know that I like to take pictures and that, if they wanted, I could make prints available...it's a thought.

Feedback is welcome. Very, very welcome. I can post more of the different layouts if you're interested :D. I would like some feedback on this. One of my managers said that I could basically print off some business cards and use it as an advertising bit for what Staples can do for our customers by means of our 'custom print' avenue.

I've also been toying with the idea of business as my major...possibly trying to get into the advertising industry...I think it'd be fun?

Who knows, I'm confusing myself more often than not.

The book isn't finished. I'm at a standstill in chapter seven...

I Obviously Don't Write Enough

I used to. Something must have happened to make this 'writing' habit I had disappear. Could it be work perhaps?
It seems the most likely culprit.
I was standing at work - once again bored - and noticed how I dwell on things. I never really have considered myself a shy person, but I suppose I am. After seeing my coworkers and interacting with them over the past 11 months, I've discovered that I seem to have contracted a fear of really interacting with people. I guess it would have something to do with all of my close friends leaving when school time came around and me staying home with no one to talk to or hang out with.
I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Why I seem to get...nervous...around others. What's the point? It's like that's the first thing that pops into my head - why bother?
But I want to bother. I want to be okay with walking up to a coworker and saying, "Wanna go grab a bite to eat after work and hang out?" But for some reason my mind instantly rejects that notion - as if it were completely absurd.
It isn't absurd, is it? To crave interaction and knowing another human being? To want to delve past the every day monotony we've found ourselves in and find something beyond a body with a few sarcastic comments along the way?
As I stand around and watch my coworkers walk up to one another and just begin to laugh and instantly strike up a conversation with no timidness to it, I can't help but envy them. They're friends and for some reason...
It's like just about everything is right, but a few cogs are missing the slots. Like there's always something going to be missing for me, personally.
I guess I am just shy. I don't know where it came from, really. It seems to just have manifested itself recently and decided that it was time for me to worry about whether others liked me or not. For all I know, it may have something to do with a constant fear of rejection.
...
Now we're getting somewhere.


I really need to get out more.

Work Ethic

Mine is terrible. I didn't used to be this way. Once upon a time I had the ability to sit down, complete a task, and then go into school the following day with a zeal to learn and talk about what I had completed the night before. Then I became a Sophomore and decided that homework and therefore school in general was pointless.

Bad habit to fall into.

Alas, there's little to be done of my terrible GPA at this moment. The semester is over and done. The only thing to do in hopes of saving it would be to try to scrounge up a course over the summer and possibly raise the aforementioned GPA to reasonable standards. (It's not completely horrid, but it's less than I would like to think I'm capable of).

In other news, a friend of the family passed away. The strange thing is, I once again could not find it within me to cry. Granted, the funeral is tomorrow and that very well may change, but upon finding out, just as with my grandmother and other friends of the family that I've known, I did not feel the need to cry. I cried at Graduation. I cried when I had to bury my cat. But when a human being died, leaving me until I die myself, I find that my emotions remain constant.

Unless they aren't a believer of Christ and God. Then I cry. But we won't get onto that topic now. If I start tooting that horn again many of you will immediately say, "Ooh no, not again". So as to avoid more droning on of topics of which no one is really interested in, I leave you with this:

Somewhere in life roads once traveled together separate and refuse to meet again. Because somewhere along the separate roads walked, the two friends realize that they have changed. And what's been changed can never be fully returned to what it was.

It's a sad reality when you discover that everyone you saw as a friend in high school leaves and never really comes back the same way they were.

Joy, The Look Of

Joy: Noun; the emotion of great happiness.

What does that mean, exactly? Joy in and of itself is something that I think can't be explained by mere definition of another grouping of lesser words. "Happy" is so overused. What does "happy" mean? When I think happy, I think of laughter and giddiness. Joy, in my opinion, is something so much more so.

Joy is when you smile at the mere thought of something.

The other day at work my manager and I were talking about the spelling of Wednesday and whether it was Wednesday or Thursday. He then brought up his son, Sebastian, and how Sebastian always asks his dad if it's "windsday" - it's a cute little saying from a Winny the Pooh episode. Ryan, my manager, then went on to talk about how he was writing a small song based off of his son's constant question, "Daddy, is it windsday? Can we go fly a kite?"

I commented at how cute it was - beyond the fact that Ryan was writing a song based off of such a cute saying from his son - but because of how he smiled every time he thought about it.

His smile was the kind of smile that you cry at because of the joy and happiness that is conveyed within it. Joy is something that isn't as simple as 'the emotion of happiness', but an outward expression of true, deep emotion. Something beyond happiness. Saying that Joy is 'happiness' deadens the word. It makes it less magical; less meaningful. It adds a dead weight to a word that soars among others.

I never really had known what to attribute the word 'joy' to. Joy is something a parent feels when they've got a memory of their child locked away in their mind forever. Joy is something that a word can't be attributed to. Joy is pure bliss.

It's interesting how much we value words.

Pit Of Dread

It cannot be explained. They almost never can. The omen that only you receive; that only you notice. The digging at your core that cannot be understood until the moment has already passed.

The day had been going quite well; nothing out of the ordinary or uncommon. Yet as I sat in traffic, waiting for the light to turn green so I could pull into the parking lot of work, belting out my voice to whatever was playing at that point, a twinge within me formed.

I wouldn't call it pain. I wouldn't call it terror or fear. It wasn't anxiety or happiness, nor was it anything akin to a feeling of euphoria or excitement.

It felt like dread.

The word dread is commonly attached to words like, 'fear' and 'anxiety', which I already said it felt unlike. Dread itself - the word that is - has a deeper, harder, more raw meaning or feeling behind it. It seems more powerful and more potent than 'fear'.

As the day passed, the feeling lingered. At times it subsided and let me laugh with my coworkers, yet it never really left. It was persistent of staying a deep pit within me. Whenever I thought that perhaps it was finally gone, it jumped back at me in surprise. Each time the feeling grew more powerful. By the time we were closing the store, my manager, who's become more of a friend than a coworker, told me he would be going camping this weekend - which is unusual. I'm not used to not seeing him. I told him to be careful - I felt like I had to. At a point I had said to myself, 'That's stupid, he'll be fine. Nothing's going to happen. You're just being paranoid'.

And then a feeling stronger than the dread erupted, combating that dread and was like a klaxon to my system. I had to tell him to be careful, that I was having this feeling inside of me. He laughed at first, asking if I thought that he was prone to getting in trouble and I told him that it was the feeling that told me that since I wouldn't be seeing him, I wanted to let him know to be safe. He said he would, and the bad feeling was probably karma - someone near me would be faced with their repercussions to past actions. I told all of my coworkers to be careful; I didn't want anyone to go without a warning. If that's what the feeling is that continues to linger within me is.

"Ever have a bad feeling about something?"

The Silent Observer

I like people. I've stated this before. And recently, I've found myself either at work, or when I'm out with the family or with friends, that I people watch. I like to sit back and see people interact with others. Their actions, their quirks, the way they'll stare off into space and then suddenly come back to reality in a shock and quickly make it look as if they're doing something; hoping to the high heavens that no one saw them dazed and confused.

Today, bored and senseless at work, I was standing around, once again, waiting for customers to come to me - major issue with being a service desk person. Anyway, in waiting around with nothing to do and no magazines to read, (Staples has axed them from the planograms), I began to take interest in my fellow associates.

I noticed that my one manager enjoys staring at myself and the other girls when he thinks we aren't looking. I noticed that one of the girls will give one of the other guys a dirty look whenever his back is turned and then smile at him whenever he looks at her. I saw one of our tech guys get an exasperated look as he walked away from a customer after he had just been so nice and considerate to them a moment before. I noticed how people walk in the store. My manager walks with purpose and a little bounce in his step, while one of the merchandisers walks slow with his head down most of the time moping about something.

I saw how the new guy is full of himself and believes he's better than people that have been there for years. I saw how most of the people I work with look out the huge windows we have at the front of the building with looks of longing and hope on their face, as if they were caged birds waiting for the chance to fly away from their imprisonment.

People are interesting.

I like people.

Bubble Wrap

What is it about bubble wrap? Seriously; it's like America's drug that doesn't have nasty side effects. You see an open container with bubble wrap and whatever was packaged inside of it is suddenly deterred to 'unimportant'. You scream, "Bubble wrap!", make a dive for the stuff, and then sit there for a few hours trying to pop every single bubble on the sheet.

It's also an amazing past time when one is bored at work. Like I was yesterday. One of the guys was opening cameras to go onto our display and one of them came packaged in bubble wrap. We had been having random little petty arguments over stupid stuff (just to help pass time), and he said, "Here's a present from me to you."

It occupied my time for the remainder of my shift. I would be standing there, staring off into space, and just popping bubbles. Customers would walk up and laugh at how it seemed to take all of my concentration to play with it. The only thing I could say was that it would be the same for just about anyone else handed bubble wrap.

It's like orange tic tacks. You have to eat them all; there's gotta be something inside of those little capsules that make them addictive. Because seriously, if you've got a package of them in your pocket at the beginning of the day, chances are, it'll be empty come the end of that day. I don't know why, but just about every person I've ever spoken to is the same as I am. It's like they're a strange little drug that don't really screw you up. I, however, have to buy them if they're on sale. Like they were a few weeks ago for fifty cents at Giant.

It's strange how our psyche works.

Apparently, I'm A Nerd

And my coworkers are just figuring this out. Not only are they just discovering it, but a few of them are using it as yet another front to make fun of me on. Lovely. Why am I a nerd? I speak computer, can fix computers, I love scifi/fantasy stuff (which apparently makes me a bigger nerd than our tech geek), and relate just about everything to a movie or book.

Oh well, I happen to like being a nerd.

STARGATE: the ARK OF TRUTH came out today, and me - in my nerdy self - went to Circuit City when it opened and got one of the copies sitting on their shelf. WELL WORTH THE TWENTY BUCKS!

Now excuse me while I go watch it again :) I love being a nerd.

Choices

The following is an idea I got while listening to music today driving back from Newtown irate. We'll see where it goes.

"Somewhere between life and death, there is a place where a select few are given choice. Within this place, they are shown one view of the lives of their loved ones after their death. They are then given a choice; continue on to death and save those of their beloved who die tragic deaths or, return back to living among them. They are not given the paths that the lives would take given they return to life, so the choice could be meaningless.

What would you choose?"

Like I said, it's just something small. Sort of like the idea I got a while back while listening to the Transformers score about "The Seer". It may become something, it may not. These are just some of the little ideas I get when I'm thinking while listening to music.

Oh how I wish I could understand myself.

I Detest Stupid People

I cannot even begin to describe how angry I am right now. Not only have I wasted a good chunk of my life continually driving down to Newtown for a class that doesn't exist, but I've also had to endure not having the ability to work on Friday's because someone is an idiot!

AAGGH!!

I didn't get this blog to vent about how I detest the little curve balls that ruin my life, but I couldn't help myself tonight. I've driven down the Newtown three times on Fridays, thinking I had a class there, and then, low and behold, the person that transfered me into the class was a MORON and couldn't tell when the class was actually occurring. STUPID PEOPLE ARE EATING MY GAS MONEY AND MY TIME!!! AAAAGGGHHH!!!

That said, I love music. I stumbled upon the music from the "Planet Earth" series that aired on Discovery Channel and *love* it.

It's slow goings on my book, but apparently, Nancy wants to read it. Plus or minus, we'll see.

Sorry for the boring entry. Perhaps next time will be better.

Just Smile

What is it about us that makes us push those people that we can tolerate and that, in turn, tolerate us? Why is it that when we get frustrated at someone, something, or a situation, the first place we look to let the anger/frustration out is the people nearest to us (both physically and emotionally). One minute you can be having a great time with someone and the next - because of a bad moment or what have you - you're ready to strangle the other person and can't stand them.

What's more is that grown people act like foolish little children and whine and complain that 'life isn't fair'. Here's a newsflash: the world doesn't justify itself. Good people don't always have good things happen to them and bad people don't always get what they deserve. To believe that is to live in denial and nothing more. So often we, as people, put on blinders to those around us and just drive forward in blatant disregard to others. Why must we torture those we laugh with by abusing them when we get angry?

I wonder if it has something to do with the hope, in the back of our minds, that those people that we scorn - the ones we love - will still love us after we've scorn and forsaken them. "We ignore the ones who love us and love the ones who ignore us". That's a quote from Luann; a good comic strip that occasionally has life lessons thrown in there.

"Why can't everyone just be nice? What's the point in being mean?"

That's something one of my coworkers asked me and I looked at her and said, "Because the world is made up of mean people that occasionally have good intentions and good people who occasionally have bad intentions. We all have mean capabilities within us, it's whether we choose to ignore them or obey them that makes us 'nice' or 'mean'."

"Badness is only spoiled goodness"; C.S. Lewis said that in Mere Christianity, and that's a very true and obvious statement. Yet it had to be said. Sometimes the truth - regardless of how obvious or harsh it may be - needs to be heard. It's our choice as to whether we open our ears to hear it.

I had another pondering while I was falling asleep last night, something that I thought about a lot last year during all my turmoil and random drama. "God only puts us through that which He knows we can handle. He never puts us through something we can't get through." I can't remember who said it, but it sticks in my mind. I keep it within me forever and never forget it. The trials we are put against are those that will build us up and make us stronger. Whether we let Satan win and succumb to the problem without a resolution or rise against it and conquer it is our choice. When all seems lost is the time when Hope is strongest.

Be a beacon in the darkness; if you see someone without a smile, give them yours.

Just smile. Everything's gonna be alright.

Hand Prints

I was standing in church this evening down in the Youth Ministries area and noticed a mural on the wall (one of the many). It had a beautiful rendition of the world with a hand print and then a footprint with the versus of "We are His hands", "We are His feet". Anyway, as I stood listening to the speaker, my mind began to occasionally drift to the hand print so wonderfully portrayed on this wall. Eventually, I began to notice how nice a job the artist did to make it look as if a giant had in fact put his hand in paint and then put his huge hand print forever on the wall.

Have you ever looked at a hand print? One that's a perfect replica of yours, (either from paint, water, or what have you), and shows the little pressure areas? Think about your hand print; when you put your wet hand on a pavement, (or your painted hand on a piece of paper), you see a small space that originates from the small gap between the palm muscles, which eventually deviates to create a diamond-like shape in the center of the hand.

It's interesting, I thought, that our muscles and the basic pressure of our hands makes an almost perfect hole. More interesting still is the fact that, when a Christian thinks about it, our hand print is a constant reminder of Christ's sacrifice. His hands were pierced and when he came back, his testament to defeating death was for his disciples to feel the holes in his hands.

I don't know what brought about this sudden fascination with my hand, but I found myself looking at it for the remainder of the speech, not really paying attention. I feel bad about not fully conducting myself to the speaker, but I feel as if my mind wanders a bit too much anyway; at least my mind was in the right set - meaning that I was busy attributing a part of human anatomy that we use every day and yet don't even notice it's significance.

A random musing. Nothing more.

Think about it.

Single's Awareness Day

I don't care what anyone says, that's all that this "holiday" is. It's a cheap way to show the world who has someone and who doesn't. It's not that I want to bring down people who are happily in a relationship or are happily married; what have you, it's more that I'm sick of American advertising shoving it down our throats that we absolutely must have someone in our lives. And if we don't, they make it seem like we're suddenly less than what everyone else is. Yes, as if our self-esteem isn't already shot, let's make it worse, shall we?

I said to my coworkers today that I was just bitter, so naturally I wouldn't want to say "Happy Valentine's Day". Every Valentine's day of my life I've been without a 'second half'. I tried not to let the day get to me, but in the past, I've always had friends to help me get through the fact that I was without someone. This year however, I'm alone. It's not that I like being a hermit, but that's what I've become. I live through work, school, and home. That is my life right now. Nothing more and nothing less.

I can't wait till I gain a social life again. As of right now, I don't have one. All of my social interactions are through work or school. And school I commute to, so I really don't get to know anyone. I just sort of see people and occasionally have someone to talk to. Lucky me, right?

I've been trying like crazy to not let this day get to me. Alas, I came to the realization that I do in fact like one of my coworkers, which makes me want to hurt myself. I really shouldn't like this guy, but I do. I keep having all of these reasons to not like him pop up, and I keep hoping that he might just be a crush, that it'll fade, but the more I think that, the less it seems to happen. The more I try to ignore or purposefully push aside any...pull (we'll call it that for now. I don't think it's a feeling or anything...or I'm living in denial), towards him. Yet with every day, I yearn to know him better and talk with him.

I'm rather pathetic.

Moving away from my horrid love live - or lack there of - we move into the terrible reality that is the fact that I love to write, yet find that the best time for me to do so, is in the middle of the night. Yes, I'm nocturnal; just like my dad. I knew that would be the case, yet continually tried to avoid it, but it's true. I work so much better at night than during the day. I love doing things during the day, but at night, I write and think best. I don't know why. I just...do.

Have you ever wanted so badly for something to happen? So much so that it consumes every part of your life? Yeah, that's the point I'm at; just wanting to have this something completed, come true - be reality. And every day it's not the case. I'm getting sick of waiting. But every time I start to think that way, I stop and say, "I suppose this is God's way of teaching me patience."

Or so I say to myself.

*Sigh* As for now. I say goodnight. I have school tomorrow followed directly by a six hour shift at work. Lucky me.

Humans are Fault-Ridden

This was what consisted of my argument in Philosophy this evening. Amazingly enough; a lot of people began talking about it and questioning my view. One of the other women and I got into a long-winded talk about how some people are blind to their own faults yet are very quick to point out the faults in other people.

It's egotistical, to believe that you're perfect and blameless. No one is such; everyone has faults and screws up. To say you don't is denial and a flat out lie. If you truly believe that you're blameless and perfect, then you're screwed up in the head and need to come to terms with yourself and get over yourself.

One of the guys said that my statement was my point of view only and that some people don't believe that. Welcome to America; where being greedy and selfish is deemed okay. Why, I don't know, but it has been given grace to continue to exist in our society and breed at that.

The professor seemed impressed with the statement and my rhetoric against people who are blind and have tunnel vision on their life. I suppose that I'd do well as a philosopher - psychology, not so much.

I went out today and bought my own copy of the Chronicles of Narnia; I thought it was high time I had a copy to follow me through life. Considering that C.S. Lewis is one of my main heroes. Speaking of Narnia; Prince Caspian comes out in May: I'm psyched. I hope they make all seven books into movies; Disney's done a good job taking a great selection of stories and bringing them to life onto the screen.

I'm nocturnal; I work so much better at night than during the day. I wish that I didn't have a stupid paper route so I didn't have to worry about lack of sleep. I've discovered that I write best when otherwise alone and when it's dark out and there are no distractions...like dogs barking or traffic outside the window.

I Like People

That isn't going to change any time soon; of that I'm sure. My coworkers continually tell me that I haven't been in the retail game long; give it a few more months and I'll be hating customers just as much as they do. I, however, after five (almost six) months of working at Staples, have not found a great dislike creeping up on me...yet.

I don't know if I would rather go with obscure, or blatantly obvious when it comes to the characters and my inspiration for their likeness being from direct people in my life that have effected me. We'll see how I choose to take it.

Finding myself bored, I chose to stop by the library and pick up the Chronicles of Narnia books; solely because it's been like...11 years since I read them and cannot for the life of me remember the events in half of them. The only one I really remember is The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe; like everyone else.

Prince Caspian comes out in theaters this summer; that should prove to be quite a good movie. I look forward to it and can't wait to reread it soon. I just finished The Magicians Nephew and am going to start book 2 tomorrow. I love reading.

My life is almost like some awful screenplay that is continually revised.

So, Now That Death is Prementant and All...

Heath Ledger died today. (Or last night; who knows really?) I didn't find out until about 8pm because I was at work; one of my managers got a text message from his wife telling him that one of his favorite actors was now dead. At first we thought it was a joke or something, then a customer overheard us and filled us in on what the world currently knew. And from there I say this:

People are always shocked when someone dies. Whether they knew the person personally or not, they feel some form of remorse and disbelief in the fact that someone's heart has decided to stop beating. I just wonder, why is that? We all will die some day, our bodies aren't made to last forever. Yes, they have become much more durable as time has gone on, but they still will decay and deteriorate. There's no stopping it. Yet we always get a punch in the face whenever someone informs us that another person has died.

How many people out there actually knew Heath Ledger-personally? Like, could walk up to him and have a normal conversation because you grew up with him or whatever? Not anywhere near as many as the hundreds of people who are already forming groups on Myspace and Facebook to commemorate his death. While yes, he was a great actor and I loved a good majority of the movies he was in, I find it hard for me to say that I 'loved him'. I think that, in this instance, we as people, should respect his family and friends enough to let them be the ones who loved him. Because they did.

We can mourn his passing and the fact that the world is now without another soul, but we should give him and his family the respect they deserve and let them be the ones to mourn. They are the ones who knew him best and will feel the vast expanse of emptiness over the next few weeks, months or even years at their loss.

Secondly, would you mourn the person you passed while you walked into your place of employment or schooling if you knew they passed away? Probably not; but why are we raising this one individual onto a pedestal? He was just like everyone else, a person living in this world. Yet we are ranking him in greater importance than that of the 'average joe' that we meet and greet with on a daily basis.

It's late, I had a much better idea for an entry during work today but wrote it in pencil so it wound up all smudged and illegible. Sorry if I offended anyone. (Not that anyone reads this).

High School

This has next to nothing to do with the title, yet it seemed most appropriate to describe what it is I will say here.

We try so hard to fit in and find somewhere that "clicks". You know, that magical place where it just makes sense for you to be a part of that group, club, staff, etc. But until we find that great, mystical place, we wander aimlessly in hopes of finding the said location. And all the while we beg and plead for someone to accept us and take us in. We're like puppies shivering in the cold without a mother to protect us from the oncoming winter storm. And when someone (or that magical place) finally comes along, we follow blindly in the hope that our gut instinct is correct for this fraction of a moment.

It's sad that we have to try that hard to 'fit in'. Whereas, we really shouldn't have to try at all. Everyone already has something in common; we're human. On top of that, we all have hopes, fears, dreams and wants in life. There you have it, another thing in common. Yet we emphasize, (for no reason) stupid little things that must be similar or the same in yourself and another person before a friendship or even acquaintanceship can occur. We dress the same, eat the same things, like the same movie, etc. Yes, these are nice to have in strong, solid friendships, but necessary for basic interaction? No.

We judge everyone, regardless of who they are, well before we actually get to know them. Which is wrong; so wrong. We need to be accepting of one another for who we are. We're all people in a vast world and we all - social standards, ethnic backgrounds, intelligence levels and so on - feel as if we're lost within a sea of faces.

But who am I to say how we should treat one another? I'm just a nineteen year old cashier trying to get through her freshman year of college.

Unconditional Love

All love is unconditional; or so we hope. Otherwise our love and the love of others would have conditions, restrictions, rules and regulations that make us or the other person in question love or love in return another person. Yet we seem to think that love has to be conditional; or much of the world does anyway. Unconditional love, something pure and blameless, is seemingly impossible.

But is it really? I don't think so. Loving everyone, regardless of who they are or where they came from, I believe is something true and possible of every person that walks on the earth. Granted, for some people, to love someone else is almost as if to ask them to sprout wings and fly away. To love like they've never been hurt before. But sometimes, that's where one has to find themselves. To regain the mentality and the knowledge and the ability to love another person.

Not necessarily in an intimate or romantic way, but to love and care about another human being - is that so much to ask? I believe it isn't. We all have the capacity to love and care about one another the same way as we would our family or our most dear of friends, yet we will sometimes treat strangers with blatant disregard and uncaring; then turn around and expect them to show kindness to us. Why is that? Why must we demand to be cared for yet have the audacity to say that we cannot care about another? I think we've become lazy as people. Not just in America, but all over the world.

I hate cell phones. I feel like it's the only way we could continue to divide our social interactions so deeply as it currently has. While I'm trying to ring someone up at Staples, I'm told that, to be at the top of my duties, I should try to carry a conversation with the customer. Yet if the said customer is yapping on their cell phone, they expect me to be able to read their mind. Know that they do indeed have a bonus card and that I should just whip it out for them and make sure the days purchase is acquired to their points. And then they proceed to become irate with me when I swipe their card and get past that section of the transaction so I cannot go back and suddenly, it's my fault. I try to remain calm and nice and friendly about it, but them blaming me for their inability to say "Can you hold on for a second?" to whomever they are currently speaking with so as to take the all of ten seconds to talk to me so I can get the important things out of the way so they can continue the conversation they were having in the first place.

Or, when I apologize to the customer for my "inability" to ask for their bonus card at the beginning of the transaction because, as a child, I was taught to never interrupt someone when they are having a conversation with someone else. I was told to wait until they were finished speaking before asking my question, the customer after them says, "Oh, they're just rude, you did nothing wrong."

If you think about it, we're a very rude culture. We step all over one another and expect someone to always help us, but never do we want to help another. We don't want to say thank you or please, it's just "Give me this now". And it's always now, it's never, 'in a moment', 'now'. As if to wait is to take away precious moments of existence that you would probably be spending in traffic or doing something else unsatisfying.

We praise Thoreau for his book, "Walden", and we quote him constantly on "Simplify, simplify, simplify" and to slow down life and to rush through our lives is to waste the life, yet we run through everything we do. Nothing can be done on it's time; in it's place. The horde of Visa Card users seem to trample us all and scream at anyone getting ready to use a check or pay by cash. We've become impatient and uncaring to one another.

It's sad. That we can't sit back and appreciate another person as such; another person. Another human being that has just as much to deal with as you do. We spend all of our time running over one another that we don't stop to look at the people we're running over. We step on people to get to the top and play and use people in the hopes of 'making it'. But is 'making it' really worth it? Does earning a five-hundred thousand dollar salary really matter if you've destroyed every friendship and social interaction you ever had to get to that point?

We need one another to survive. In order to maintain some form of mental sanity and physical well being, we need to interact and have some form of social connection with another person. Yet we treat people we don't even know like dirt. Heck, sometimes we treat our loved ones like dirt. Why is that? "You only hurt the ones you love"; it's sad, yet true. We do hurt the ones we love far more often then we do the ones we loathe.

This all said, I find it horrifying that my trying to love and care about every person that I come into contact with is considered, "unnatural". People stare at me like I'm crazy when I go out of my way to help someone or to say "I care about you", when I've only known the person for a few days or a few months. But what does that matter? Days, months, years? A person is a person is a person. They all have feelings and wishes and hopes and desires and dreams. Who am I to not care?

Sometimes all people need is someone there.

A Day In The Life

I'm tired of always being the 'younger' person everywhere I go. It makes me feel as if I'm insignificant and unnecessary in conversations and things of the like. Which frustrates me. That; and being sick doesn't help with the current predicaments I find myself in.

Being 19 is awkward, but I know that turning 20 will only be so much more so; I won't be old enough to drink but, at the same time, I'll no longer be considered a 'teenager'. That label will leave me forever, never to return. It's almost like a cheesy, unimportant right of passage. The one everyone overlooks. The big date is when someone turns 21, that's when the said person has the ability and responsibility to drink alcohol legally.

That raises another question; why does it matter so much? I suppose a good deal of it goes towards our view as Americans, that we're already spoiled rotten and that the privilege to consume alcohol is, for some people, not viewed as such. It's more of a recreational activity more than anything. Which is almost disgusting. I pass bars all the time on the way to work and I always wonder if people really do spend a good deal of their time there, like Norm from "Cheers".

There are times where I wonder why I think the way I do. Just the other night one of my coworkers asked what I meant by me saying that my brain is wired completely opposite of everyone else's. What I mean by that is that I feel as if I'm one of the few people left on this planet (at the very least, within this country) with the capacity to care about other people. It's not that I see cruelty everywhere I turn, but I do see a lot of inconsideration and just non-caring by people every day. And it's all because they want someone else to hold their hand and do everything for them. Basic functions that people should be able to handle on a day to day basis it seems cannot be completed because they just plain don't want to perform the said application. It's downright disturbing that we as a nation have become that lazy.

And now for something completely different: I wish I could do more. I have met some people over the past five months that I really do care about more than I do the average Joe walking into the store, but they seem so lost and alone. I want to help them, but options are never presented - what's worse is they're well older than me. So me, a mere "teenager" can do so little (or so it seems) to help a struggling adult. There are thirty-something year old guys working at Staples and it's basically a dead end job for them. I hope and pray that this place I'm at is merely a part time employment; that I won't still be around cashiering ungrateful people five years from now. I hope that I'll move on to bigger and better things, but that hope can only provide me with so much. I suppose that ambition and drive will take me beyond hope will.

It's so cold. And it refuses to snow. Thus, we're left with nothing but a gray sky to welcome our day with bitter cold weather.