Home > Life or something like it > Entry 08/10/2006 10:08:46 PM – Mentat 286

Entry 08/10/2006 10:08:46 PM – Mentat 286

     I’ve come to the realization that there are just some friendships that I have that simply defy simple descriptions and labels.  Neither friend, not good friend, nor best friend, nor acquaintance, nor lover, nor boyfriend…  Eric Michael — a person that I had lost contact with about three years ago — is one of these people.  When I try to take an internal temperature as to how I feel about him, I often find myself feeling something someplace between like, admiration, paternal, and occasionally compassionate.  Coincidentally, I had found him through a mutual acquaintance that I have networked through 360, and when I saw that this acquaintance had launched a response to something he said, I went looking to see what he was responding to.
     Funnier thing there — I don’t normally read through other people’s blogs — mainly because there are very few people’s blogs that I find interesting enough to read.  Hell — most people’s blogs have such a lackluster feeling to them because most people simply lack the ability to write what they’re seeing and feeling about a situation.  But after being invited by Eric Michael to read through his, and reading through it, I actually found myself not only in awe, but I was just a little bit jealous when I realized that he was writing in a way that I used to. 
     But the more that I think about it, the more I realize that the reason why I haven’t been writing in the same way [Eric Michael] is because I don’t oftentimes write about the people and the events that have been going on in my life.  Not surprising really, given that there are so few people in my life that I interact with in real time, and most of the folk that I talk with/interact with are in fact online.  And while there are a couple of people that are worthwhile to speak about from online — so many of the others really aren’t worth the time, the patience, the effort or even the bandwidth. 

     Not sure whether I had mentioned this since the last time I had written (I’m not including the last entry, as the last entry is a spillover for an issue that I had thought resolved two months ago), but I had decided on playing hooky from work because my blood pressure had sky rocketed to something obscene (240/125 or so), and the migraine that I had been sporting had been so bad that not even an Imatrex shot didn’t work.  Did me a world of good as I had made it into a three-day weekend.  Although, for most of the three days, I had seriously considered quitting the contract, because I can’t stand the amount of backbiting, and hypocritical double talk I’ve been getting from the folk here.  Couple this with the fact that with the exclusion of one other person within the contractor/temp pool, I had put in more OT hours than all the others combined for the last three weeks, and I was feeling particularly ungratified with the way folk are treated here by management. Working the amount of hours that I’ve worked, and the two-hour ride home every day is also quite the chore.
     Needless to say, my modus apparendi for such harsh feelings is usually to quit/cancel the contract.  However, on the Sunday that I was prepping to make the decision, I got into a fight with my aunt about it because she had gotten rather judgmental about my wanting to terminate the contract.  So, instead of dealing with the recriminations from family, and having to start working on finding a new job contract from scratch, I sucked it in, and made the decision that I wasn’t going to push myself anymore for this job. 
     Still working the overtime…  Did about an hour and a half of it for Monday.  Lauren had said to me when she asked why I had been out for the Friday, (and I had explained to her that I need to stop working the OT and was still there at 5:30), "You know, that’s like saying you’re on a diet while eating a huge piece of chocolate cake…" 
     Yeah I know…  Not in the least bit right. 
     Had yesterday off, but today now that I’m here, I’m probably going to be going home on time.  We’ll see if I can abide by my own decisions, given that I routinely like to push myself a little bit when possible. 
     I’ve also made the decision that when this company moves to its new location; I’m not going to go with them.  One thing, the distance from my hometown is just too far, and for another, I’m not thinking that I’m going to work on getting a car.  Cost of living is more than outrageous here, and I see no reason in wanting to stay given the greed the state is going through in order to push for the casino. 

     Saturday, went shopping for a new pair of shoes and new sunglasses.  Gotta love the fact that there’s a Sketcher’s Outlet in Franklin, and while there were a pair of shoes that I would’ve preferred to have gotten, at least the second choice I can wear with the clothes that I currently own.  My aunt more than a little bit surprised over the fact that the sunglasses were in the price range of $125.00 (including tax).  Told her that if I’m going to go back to wearing sunglasses, the cost for those sunglasses are more than reasonable, given the fact that they’re made for contact lens wearers. 
     Sunday, went down to Newport to take a few pics of the area to add to my online photo albums…  Was quite the change since the last time I made a trip to Newport.  The last time I made a trip to Newport, I had been there in the late winter/early spring, and it was pretty dead.  Sunday, it was packed and then some.  According to Mike from gay.com, the reason why was that they had the Newport Jazz Festival going on Sunday.  While I didn’t actually come across it, it was pretty obvious it was going on with the amount of people going back and forth from the stores.

     Two other things left to speak about…  The first apparently Seth is kicking up a storm about my last journal entry, because one of his friends is still narcing on me and my activities.  About the only thing that I feel the need to comment on this is not the privacy of the situation, but my beliefs/standards on what is considered private/public and my journal writing/blogging. 
     When it comes to what’s going on in my writing in a blog, I put everything into it, without filtering or privacy settings.  The only times that I don’t put anything into my journal/blog is when it involves HIPAA privacy violations, information that has been tagged as Secret, Top Secret, or high security clearance, or illegal activity that is pending judicial action.  Seems that it’s awful convenient for people to read what I’ve had to say when it comes to myself, my feelings, and my perspectives — but yet when it comes to having them included in on something, particularly in the way that it impacts me in the way that I feel and the way that I act — it suddenly becomes embarrassing or inconvenient or some bizarre breach of some illusionary privacy line and they don’t want to be included…  Sorry — can’t have it both ways, I simply don’t work that way.  Want to know everything, you get to know everything.  Don’t like the way things are going, change your attitude and your approach to me, because lord knows I’ve done the same when I received the e-mail. 

     The second deals with this rather bizarre chat with someone in Yahoo that was professing interest, and yet did positively nothing but make an already bad situation worse.  Of course, I didn’t do anything to make it any easier, given than I found myself not trusting a thing that the man was saying.  And no matter how much he tried to impress me, the more inimpressed I was with what he was trying to say.  To make matters more intriguing had to do with the fact that I’ve seen the nick he was using before, but it had been entirely too long since the last time I had seen it, so I don’t exactly remember what it was he was pulling the last time I had seen him. 
     But more on this at another time..  Right now, I should be working on finishing up an e-mail.  But I’ve been pondering the ramifications of my actions from this encounter.  No doubt, I’ll be talking about this at another time.

     Well, going to run.  Until the next time. 
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