Home > Uncategorized > Entry 01/20/2009 04:18:58 AM – Mentat 476

Entry 01/20/2009 04:18:58 AM – Mentat 476

01/20/2009
     So I got through my week with the usual zaniness, and I felt more than a little bit cursed given that there had been a change with procedures for one market — which completely doesn’t make any sense to me, but hey that’s why we have people in management to make sense of it — and the instant I got all pointy-haired about it, ended up with me taking a majority of the calls from that market and from the areas that had been changed.  Heh, this is why my status messages on Facebook and MySpace had the word "cursed" written in them through my work week. 
     Ken called it karma…  I still believe it’s a curse…  At least I hope that my "curse" is over with now that I’m through the work week and hopefully when I get back to the office next week I won’t get any more of those sort of calls.  Ugh… 

     And through my work week, I tried out one set of code for Apophysis which while I liked how it came out, am rather daunted with the fact that it takes so bleeding long to render the picture.  Not surprising given the complexity of the code from the way it set ups the triangles within the editor to the plug-ins that it calls to create them.  Definitely something I’ll look into more when I get through the next couple of weeks break while I try to sort out the frustration and mid-winter blahs that I’ve got creeping into my attitude.  Yeah — the blahs are back.  Lots of cold, lots of snow, the long stretch between holidays (with the next one being Memorial Day…) At least this time through isn’t quite so bad as it has been in the past.  Although I think I’m going to need to meditate more given that I’m finding myself more on edge than I would normally. 
     Of course, I’m counting down the weeks for my vacation time now that it’s approved.  Got the time off for the first week in Spring, but haven’t a clue where the hell that I want to go.  Still entertaining the thoughts of going to the west coast more than the east coast.  Particularly given that the flight is during the day which is perfect for someone like me who’s used to sleeping through ’til I get to the West Coast.  What I’m going to do, I have no idea.  But I’m sure that I’ll work something out. 

     And in other news, the replacement power supply’s come in.  This means that I’m going to probably have a go through trying to get it installed, powering the unit up and praying to whatever silicon gods there are out there that the issue with the power supply the last time I tried running the box I’ve built isn’t because there’s some sort of short going on with the motherboard.  *crossing fingers*  I mean that I understand that everything’s under warranty both from the seller as well as the parts manufacturers.  Especially given that I had purchased it within the last month (yeah, it’s only been a month). 
     I’ll probably work on it tomorrow night when I get up instead.  At least to install it, if not to power it up and hope that it works. 

     The reason why I had sat down to write this entry….  Based on the frustration that I had going with the last one and unfortunately compounded by the dreams that I had over the last couple of nights.  Rights and wrongs all across the board from the last journal entry.  Add into the mix chatting with someone about half my age that has been celibate for almost as long as I have, which has me completely understanding, empathetic and wanting to just convince him to keep a stiff-upper lip.  Saw someone else clear across the country that I would really like to get to know providing he’s closer to my age than my second guess that makes me think he’s after in his 20-somethings.  Hell, I even had to send a copy of his pic to my friend to see whether she thought the same as I did.  She confirmed that she thinks he’s mid to late 30s (although she called him a little "slow" looking).  While I understood the man’s fears, at the same time I don’t quite fathom them.  It’s scary to die — but we all die alone.  It’s not as though people can choose to die at the same time as a loved one (unless of course it’s an accident), but even then we die alone.  Is it that he’s more afraid of being lonely than being alone?  It’s just one of those sort of questions that I want to ask to better understand. 
     Still can’t work up what to say to the other that offered his e-mail address (disposable, yes, but e-mail address nonetheless).  The problem is that he just doesn’t have a profile filled out much other than physical stats, although looking at it again, there’s an edge to the choices that he’s thrown out that I see as potential problems…  Particularly about punctuality.  Punctuality isn’t the same in the north as it is in the south.  Politeness is more important.  Sure we all expect someone that’s going to be a date to show up on time, but yet in the north it’s a deal breaker if one isn’t on-time, even if one calls the person to warn them that they’re running late.  And I most assuredly don’t want to go through having to deal with that bullshit this time of year with anyone. 
     *sighs* I’m making excuses.  I know it.  I should just go with it and hope for the best. 

[Last Edited: 01/20/2009 07:01:02 AM]

     Fuck it, I’m not writing to him.  His profile is written like the million of profiles that I see from the area.  Numbers, height/weight statistics, and while it doesn’t contain dick size — it does contain within the all the same old bullshit of worrying entirely too much about the package without caring at all about what’s contained within that package.  I spent a better part of an hour stuck feeling as though I was at the disadvantage of him knowing more of what I wanted rather than anything of what he wants.  Then it began to sink in that it wasn’t the disadvantage, but rather because his profile completely lacked personality.  It lacked the necessary elements for me to feel as though I could remotely relate to him.  And the more that I looked at it, the less I felt that I would relate. So, throwing the trash in Outlook, I came back here to rant the rest of it out…
 
     I might not be artistic, but dammit I’m a romantic and with it comes the all the trappings of wanting to let words flow with emotions and feelings.  Staring at his profile reminds me too much of the narcissistic-like attitude of queerfolk wanting gym-bodies and pretty packages; of jocks and jock-wannabes that have as much emotional depth as a Petri Dish, and as much emotional commitment as a goldfish in a fish-bowl waiting for the next feeding.  Of men my age wanting some 20-something to re-capture their wasted youth, and the feeling of a successful hunt… 
     Now before I go off on some wild and highly cynical tangent, let me just say that the one that I thought stopped writing me (and only did so for the weekend as I had originally suspected) in the Metro-Boston area had more in his profile for me to work with than this one in Rhode Island ever did.  I’d rather chat with the one that I’ve talked about in this journal who’s clear across the country who would rather have friends than die alone than deal with the likes of one that’s worried more of what people would think of him by a set of physical numbers, and by whether or not he exercises, does yoga and Pilates and hikes…  Bleh…  *shakes the crap off* 
     I feel better now.  And now it’s time to wander off and work up the gumption that I’m wanting to work up. 

     Well, that’s about it for the time being.  Until the next time.
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