nada

i wasn't looking for it. i swear. i'm merely cutting my hair, yes i've let the head gain control but i figure if i'm doing it, well i'm doing it all. even bought a new clipper because the one from 2003 couldn't handle the hair on the head.

but in doing everything else...gray pub.

for fucks sake, i'm not that old but there it was. i did the only logical thing: i pulled it out, right there around my navel, and FUCK WHAT WAS I THINKING.

on the other hand, i look just like my photo again. people are going to wonder but fuck them. time to get hardcore again and just do what i do best: fail at life and destroy people at work. the former is done, time to tally the score and make them pay.

i'm no superman

so what did you do for thanksgiving?

i worked the previous day 'til after 10, needed to leave even though i left only my one cook since 9 by himself...i felt bad but i needed to get to the store and buy ant traps. and beer. and wine. i think i caught the cashier off guard, she asked if i just got off work cause i still had my stripes on and my chef coat (it was cold out, need the insulation) but that was it. she hands me my change, and i say Happy Thanksgiving, and she stops for a second and says the same back at me.

why is this significant to you?

i guess it's just because it's the second time this week where i just felt it was the right thing to do. i spent five minutes on monday just helping a woman get her car out of our disaster of a parking lot at work, and that left me smiling as well. it's not so much about some self serving need to feel better about myself, it's just being a decent human being.

but what about thanksgiving?

yeah, so i got home at the same time i left twelve hours earlier, set the traps, and drank.

this seems to happen a lot...

i actually drove around for a bit beforehand, thinking i would prefer being at one of the local bars, but i couldn't find parking and after actually saying out loud that i just didn't feel it i went home. with a case of miller lite, a twelve of heineken (which i hate but use as a diversion), and a 1.5 of yellowtail shiraz.

we still haven't talked about thanksgiving...

(pause). my family here in state all went up to ohio, go figure. i spent the night watching talk shows and checking the progress of the ants. then the ex- x called and left a message at 2:45. in the morning.

why does she still call you?

i dont know why we still talk. we've seemed to find a way to ruin each others lives, in that since she uncerimoniously dumped me three years ago, almost to the day, we call each other up at stupid times.

so did you talk to her?

not until after the second call, around 6 i want to say. she called again, not so drunk, but i still didn't answer. i finally called her back 30 minutes later.

why?

because...am i being charged for this? i know i called you and we don't meet until next week, but...

it's half-rate...you're a good client.

hmm. so i called her up basically because i'd been up all night, couldn't sleep, and didn't even have a buzz.

so what did you discuss?

life, each other, how apparently her dream guy that she's been with for two years ain't what he seemed.

how does this affect you?

it doesn't. it's good to have friends but i'm so completely removed it doesn't even hurt anymore. i walked back to my hotel three years ago in this miserable snowstorm the night we finally broke up and it doesn't even bother me. i still care, don't get me wrong, but...

what about thanksgiving?

you won't let it rest. after talking to the ex -x i made dinner. at 8 in the morning. crab legs and filet mignon. i decided to open the wine early.

(blank look) (over the phone. i felt it)

i cooked everything up, proper spices and all except i forgot to grab a lemon from work for the crab. it was the best food i've had in weeks.

so...

i went to sleep watching pbs. in the past five hours i drank five glasses of water, half a case of miller lite, six bottles of heine, and finished the shiraz.

you might have a problem with alcohol. i see that your case history has a period of AA...

they suck.

why?

i spent six months finding a group that wasn't severely depressed. can't deal with that again.

can i call you back? we're trying to have thanksgiving here.

ok. uh, same time next week right?

yes. need to go. thanks for calling.

i heard from someone you're still pretty

in the midst of assessing my ant infestation a few hours ago, the phone rings, and all i can think is Why the hell now? i finally got ahold of my dad, my sister, gonna call the rest of the family tomorrow, but really, at 2:44 am?

and it's the x from three-four years ago, who i've talked with sporadiacally the last six months. wishing me a happy turkey day and...birthday. funny how some wounds actually heal, probably because other idiocy takes the lead.

and then she leaves a message, which is good, but ends with the "i love you". what needs to be remembered is that we had that final breakup talk three years ago...on the eve of thanksgiving, which also happened to be my 30th birthday.

it's not bothering me though. for some reason all the other idiocy is what's causing me to lose my mind. can't focus, work seems a sham, working with my AD daily makes me hate life, and i have ants making a steady stream into my kitchen. how the fuck would you feel.

to change the world

i awoke at 8, only to repeatedly hit the snooze. it was ugly outside, gray skies and rain, and the thought of finishing up the inventory from last night left an empty feeling in my stomach. or maybe that was the heavy microbrew. who knows.

walked in at 9:59 and immediately plugged in numbers, learned a few things about our system from my AD, and then dealt with lunch. screamed at a few people, resolved to get some menu questions fixed, and then helped a woman get her car out of our back parking lot (which is not ours, and you risk being stuck there for hours if you do park).

knocked our food % from 35.6 to a 32.9 and then, because i do know what i'm doing sometimes, down to 30.46. our budget is 31%. this is the second time in two weeks that we've come in under our mandated number.

in between i just do my thing, get a card, a hat, and a sash(?) from the staff. and then i drink, first with one of our servers (cute, and irish, and leaving in two weeks), and then by myself, watching football and trading jibs at the idiocy with the people next to me.

i walk home, feeling strangly good despite myself, and then proceed to txt my buddy up in nyc to great hilarity.

and now is when i stumble into sleep, eyes blurry from what i don't know.

the slow smooth wheel of disintegration

the lj still fascinates me, these moments trapped in time that remind me of events that i'd otherwise have forgotten about. i suppose if i had access to my pc hard drive in storage i'd say the same thing about the old websites...the stories that i once told are lost in my memory.

wondering about college...osu, pittsburgh, even osu (oregon state, that is)...plotting a lifeline that involved the church, God, religion, marriage...stories, sad stories that made me hope for something better...tales not told because i thought i was better than that, but have realized that just having it out there is so much better...personal degredation at the expense of myself, because who else is there?

i do vaguely remember a bad posting about how much i dreaded being half the age of my parents. i think it was full of hope, promises to myself, but it just hasn't turned out that way. it never does, you know. i had that kind of hope when i was 20 and i know i'm not working on my Ph.D, married, or teaching knumskulls like myself.

hate to say it, but i look at it like half my life is lived. the next 33 years...well, no more predictions.

letting go of all i've held onto

self destruction is never pretty. the bartender actually recognized me, maybe a good/bad sign but so what. drinking tall dark microbrews and just watching the late sunday football game...and it's over, san diego loses in the last seconds, the music comes back on and two songs in it's this lifehouse song that i haven't heard since i left madison...

happy birthday, you idiot. no matter how hard you try it'll always be thrown back in your face.

*

what are you gonna do?

hallelujah

and yes it is this late. i ask myself this non-question because...well, i guess we all break down at some point. i always find myself in the bathroom when this happens, and stare at myself across the void.

yet it's come to this...behind on everything, not because i'm short, i'm just too lazy to take care of this shit. i...just don't care. it's worse than a funk, it's...depression? i literally destroyed myself two nites ago, it was ugly, brutal, and completely unintentional...in public, and at home, and i'm still cleaning up the aftermath.

i just don't have the balls to do anything different anymore. downward spiral...i have no more, nothing to give. the birthday i've been anticipating since ten years past is finally coming up in 36 hours...half your parents age.

and i have nothing, am lost and wandering...

well, i did take out the trash and clean the bathroom sink...but still nothing.

(no title) (here)

can't find a way to move beyond everything. stuck in the past, reliving everything every single day. feel like my mind is facing some kind of meltdown, but in that reasonable, this is how it goes kind of way. lost.

so sad, all the time. i get out of the funk at random times, but it's not enough. don't even know how to describe it any more, it's so pervasive that it underlies everything that i do. but nothing helps...can barely take care of myself anymore, my home is a disaster.

and this Iron & Wine song...Trapeze Swinger...broke me down last night watching them on PBS. i was looking up lyrics as sam was singing solo with his guitar. what is it about songs that have a story behind them (west point, anyone).

*

my best friend, in nyc, took the plunge and did what i can only dream about: he proposed to his girl, and she of course said yes, after five years.

i'm so happy yet sad, because all of this just reminds me of my own idiocy and how i've screwed up all these past years...

but you're the idiot who keeps believing in love

and i type away on my phone cause it's therapy. i can't sleep, long aweful week at work and i'm staring my friday (monday for those in the real world) in the face and hating it.

but that's not the real issue. i'm good at self diagnosis, but i've hit a real wall here. i just don't care anymore. i have these dreams that speak multitudes to me about everything, yet all i am left with is rambling about the pieces and trying to fit them back together.

i've gone out a lot the past few weeks, trying to meet new people, find a decent hub to just be me, and i just don't feel it. and i try not to sink into this seasonal depression that always hits me, i try not to think about how happy i was this time last year, i try not to do any of those things that will just destroy me, but it's unavoidable.

how is it possible to hate someone yet miss them?

on your side

i feel...angry. lost. betrayed. not so much that i dont know what to do, but when to do it and the meathod.

straight from the president of the company, altering employee times is mandated. encouraged. etc.

i am ready to let the ship sink. at the same time, im prepared to mention how all hourly employees need to keep track of their hours, as i've preached from day one in this business.

fuck shit piss goddamn it all. i work for smart people, yet they do dumb stuff like this.

yet, there is always a way aroud things.

all you want to do is something good

and you walk out tonight, feeling successful yet pissed because it's always that last bump at the end that sets you off. and the weekends, they're the worst, because employees want their food before they work, and they never ask beforehand, yet wonder why the kitchen doesnt make their food until 30 minutes have passed.

you walk to the grocier, because Smithwicks is on call after these last 12 hours, but the last thing you can deal with is other people screaming at some uptown bar. on the way back you crack open one and drink it all before hitting your front door.

but that's never really the problem. the problem is that you were at the same grocery store the previous nite and everywhere you went were thanksgiving foods...stuffing, turkeys, potatoes...things that because of their uptown location they don't carry half the time. and this stays with you, embedding itself thoughly in your psyche because it's that time of year.

and you think about where you were ten years ago, how spending a month in chicago changed how you thought your life should be. be something else, do something else, dont be afraid of making mistakes.

and this affects your dreams, as it has all week, but it wasn't until the previous nite that you put it all together. and you realize the choices you make are yet again entirely your own, and that there is no one to hold responsible but yourself. but that's still ok.

it's fine.

it's ok. you're not gonna sink into the doldrums that surround the holidays (and your birthday), but you know at the same time that it's already done.

all you think about is the good times last year, shopping for dinner with the x, not getting a tree but throwing lights up in the windows, the snow everywhere...being able to simply sleep with your arm around her because you knew that no matter hard it may be day-to-day, at least you have each other.

and you try not to think forward, past this period of the year, but it doesn't work. you escalate past everything, and all you can see is both of them betraying you.

and regardless...you keep going, because this is the life you asked for, ten years ago, and you look forward to 14 hour days and a lack of a life and...tomorrow you get to make split pea soup at 9 o'clock.