Tonight my apology is two fold. The first must be that of a failing to write yesterday. When I returned home from various tasks, such as an evening class of Media Writing and safely conducting my father from a point a to a point b, I found that time had not only swiftly brought in its wings tiredness, but also lateness. The two combined, in addition to the nauseating pace at which my computer downloads all of its starting information, made writing a complete unhappiness. There is no sense in writing if it makes you unhappy, and I’m afraid that I failed you all.
Sigh.
The second is an apology to both Tolkien Boy and Annie. Both have repeatedly stated a certain type of encouragement, one that if followed would no doubt improve the over all quality of my life. That encouragement has been ignored on my part, or at very least not followed. Can you honestly say that something that is consuming in its presence is ignored if it is not carried into action? Hundreds of plans made and hundreds of situations played out and rehearsed, none of them actually coming to the light. When all the things that are in darkness are revealed, the time required to list off all the things in my life will take a dramatic increase after I reached about the age of ten when I made for myself a crippling self-awareness. Self awareness is a good thing, but it makes me play out how I would react to each and every situation. Or is that paranoia?
Either way, I plan to make up for both failures in two blogs.
Make up the first: Have any of you heard any good jokes lately? I’ve recently been very interested in finding new jokes that will bring laughter to anyone. I had the chance to act as a host for a skit night of the young single adults around here, and it was a good time, with lots of good and not so good jokes. I personally enjoyed finding all the different jokes that I could use, and saying them was almost as fun. For example, there was a joke that I heard from someone at the skit party:
My eight year old kid has a wonderful primary teacher. One day they were talking about faith, and the teacher was using China as an example. “How many of you have been to China?” she asked. Of course no one raised their hand. “So how do you know it exists?” One bright little kid said “because on the back of my toys it says ‘made in china’”
There were other ones, like the ten signs that it’s time to turn off the computer. One of them was you get up to use the bathroom at three in the morning and you check your e-mail on the way. Or, even better, after finding your e-mail box empty, you check it again, just to see if you got an email while checking.
There were lots of good jokes, and I’ll be sure to post some in a future blog. I’m sorry that that’s so short, but what can you do? That’s my life. Short.
Everyone did comment on how good I look in a Tux, though. . .
The second apology is a little more difficult to explain, and I wish to make an excuse in the way of a question. My question is one that has been perplexing me for some time and being a reflection of the situation is complex and puzzling. I don’t want to give wrong impressions to anyone, and I’m sorry that this is a departure from yellow culture, but I’m tired and I don’t write very yellow when I’m tired. It doesn’t help that I’ve developed the habit of clenching my teeth, either.
But here’s my question: Tolkien Boy and Annie both have told me that if I like someone (I leave it in the unsure if phrase on purpose-the situation is more confusing than I normally say), I should go ahead and tell that person. My question is this: At what point do you leave good sense in telling someone that you like them? One would think that there is an uncrossable line in both gentlemanly manner and logical thinking when someone should definitely not tell someone that they like them, and the opposite is also true, that at moments gentlemanly conduct calls for some declaration of appreciation. Where is the line? The different occurences and conversations leading up to the advice on the part of my brother and friend have obscured the clarity of the decision, and I am confused.
If you’re pretty sure the person has no interest at all in you, do you still tell them? If you think there’s a slight possibility that they like you, do you lead them on and then tell them you like them? If you know they think you’re great, I’m pretty sure you should tell the person that you like them, but if you’re not sure, what’s the best course of action?
What if you think that you make the person feel uncomfortable? What then? I can’t imagine that declaring some undying affection would make the matters any better (Mr. Collins has proved that quite efficiently) though it might bring a swift end to something that might otherwise be painful for a long time.
Though it’s not showing my strengths, and I hate it when this happens, I have no true inclination about what is right. I can tell you that at times my mind is called up to serious reflection and I wonder about what to do. At other times the matter is trivial, the food for thought when I am alone and tired.
If you think it’s confusing to read this blog, you should see the inside of my mind. It’s pink. It’s beautiful in there. Or so I’ve been told.
And, to end this blog with a goodnight, I’d like to quote a famous line:
Oh, what fools these mortals be.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Blogging Woes
This blogathon has created a serious introspection into the art of blogging. I've learned a lot about why I enjoy blogging so much, and how often things I write can take on a completely different meaning than I was intending. The misinterpretation of blogs can lead to very lively conversations, and some very awkward situations. So, I now list my blogging woes.
Woe the First: It's very easy to say more than I want known. This leads to awkward conversations. For instance, I might confess that a friend (and because I don't want to embarass her I won't mention her name) told me that her gall bladder looks very fetching, or maybe that I have some serious intestinal problems (I don't), or that I actually like someone. When I reveal deep and slightly darkened secrets like this (sometimes in such a way that even I don't realise that I'm sharing them until after later), it can create uncomfortable situations, like someone cornering me about my intestinal problems (I usually use them as an excuse to vacate the area though.). Oh, woe is the blog.
Woe the Second: When I do reveal the secrets of my heart, the person who I was hoping would understand normally doesn't. It's a great irony, one that can be cruel. Most people will think I'm making reference to crushes, but actually I most often write to be understood by close friends, and very rarely have I written a blog precisely so that someone I had or have a crush on might understand me better. Not to say that my crushes aren't good friends. The point is, people don't understand what I write. A good example is the blog "Screaming Silence," which I'm told would be a good name for a horror movie, but that's beside the point. Not one person out of all the people that I hoped would understand a small portion of me through that poem really got the point. Just one is okay (especially because I wrote the poem to specifically avoid bluntly saying what I was trying to say), but often it's the case with many of my blogs. Oh, woe are those blogs.
Woe the third: Inspiration isn't like a tap for me. I don't have an on switch. Seriously! Though this blogathon was my idea and I'm sticking to it, I honesly struggle to come up with a blog that is either interesting or funny or both (as is evidenced by my latest editions), and I feel like the quality of my writing is slipping, when really I just haven't processed everything well enough yet. It's woeful.
Woe the Fourth: Blogging takes away from my popcorn time.
Woe the Fifth: Even though writing is more likely to represent my true self, I still miss the mark to give a true representation of my soul. Perhaps most people can see it anyway, but the person who's trapped under my epidermis is different than the one out on the blogging stage. At least I think he is. Either way, I wish to give a true representation, and alas and alak, I do not.
Woe the sixth: Blogs can create a sense of guilt, even though I only write them for my own enjoyment. If the blog is not witty, or if it is not long enough, or unique enough, then I feel anguish over the failure to improve. That is just wrong.
Anyway, this is a woey blog. What's more, I don't have time nor the inclination to run the spell check, which means you get this in it's raw form, without revisions. Enjoy.
Woe the First: It's very easy to say more than I want known. This leads to awkward conversations. For instance, I might confess that a friend (and because I don't want to embarass her I won't mention her name) told me that her gall bladder looks very fetching, or maybe that I have some serious intestinal problems (I don't), or that I actually like someone. When I reveal deep and slightly darkened secrets like this (sometimes in such a way that even I don't realise that I'm sharing them until after later), it can create uncomfortable situations, like someone cornering me about my intestinal problems (I usually use them as an excuse to vacate the area though.). Oh, woe is the blog.
Woe the Second: When I do reveal the secrets of my heart, the person who I was hoping would understand normally doesn't. It's a great irony, one that can be cruel. Most people will think I'm making reference to crushes, but actually I most often write to be understood by close friends, and very rarely have I written a blog precisely so that someone I had or have a crush on might understand me better. Not to say that my crushes aren't good friends. The point is, people don't understand what I write. A good example is the blog "Screaming Silence," which I'm told would be a good name for a horror movie, but that's beside the point. Not one person out of all the people that I hoped would understand a small portion of me through that poem really got the point. Just one is okay (especially because I wrote the poem to specifically avoid bluntly saying what I was trying to say), but often it's the case with many of my blogs. Oh, woe are those blogs.
Woe the third: Inspiration isn't like a tap for me. I don't have an on switch. Seriously! Though this blogathon was my idea and I'm sticking to it, I honesly struggle to come up with a blog that is either interesting or funny or both (as is evidenced by my latest editions), and I feel like the quality of my writing is slipping, when really I just haven't processed everything well enough yet. It's woeful.
Woe the Fourth: Blogging takes away from my popcorn time.
Woe the Fifth: Even though writing is more likely to represent my true self, I still miss the mark to give a true representation of my soul. Perhaps most people can see it anyway, but the person who's trapped under my epidermis is different than the one out on the blogging stage. At least I think he is. Either way, I wish to give a true representation, and alas and alak, I do not.
Woe the sixth: Blogs can create a sense of guilt, even though I only write them for my own enjoyment. If the blog is not witty, or if it is not long enough, or unique enough, then I feel anguish over the failure to improve. That is just wrong.
Anyway, this is a woey blog. What's more, I don't have time nor the inclination to run the spell check, which means you get this in it's raw form, without revisions. Enjoy.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Voting
As an excuse for me, and to reduce the amount of stress with which I will end this day, once again I must have a non blogy blog. That basically means that I will not really write anything.
In fact, the only thing that I am going to say is that you should all get out and vote today. It's a wonderful day to exercise liberty. Plus, if you go out and vote, then I will have a reason to be here, in the elections office all day long.
Have a wonderful express liberty day!
In fact, the only thing that I am going to say is that you should all get out and vote today. It's a wonderful day to exercise liberty. Plus, if you go out and vote, then I will have a reason to be here, in the elections office all day long.
Have a wonderful express liberty day!
Monday, February 4, 2008
One Word
Tomorrow is election day, and that means I will spend a total of twelve to thirteen hours in an office. As such is the case, I will limit myself to just one word, one word to explain my emotions
Gratiroticonsteraution.
Have a good night!
Gratiroticonsteraution.
Have a good night!
Sunday, February 3, 2008
The Yellow Factor
Every yellow character in the whole world is plagued by the yellow factor. The yellow factor, bane of the existence of many happy people and the only slight on an otherwise productive and wonderful social life, is what drives otherwise perfectly emotionally balanced yellows into reclusion, avoiding contact with any other human being of the opposite gender unless it be a smile or a handshake. It terrorizes humanity, and many are left bereft of happiness because of it. Yes, as I have alluded, this involves the happiness of people in the dating pattern, because that is what I talk about, so there.
It's always been interesting to me to observe how many people show their interest in others, speaking of a romantic or at least more than friends type interest. There is the nervous type, who the minute the liked person walks into the room they barrage everyone with an incessant flow of verbology. Then there are the exuberant type, who assaults the person that they like with compliments. There are the shy types, who avoid any and all actual signs of liking someone, such as a smile, making eye contact. There are even those that hide any liking behind a joke.
Mine is a strange road, the type of attraction I have and the way I show it. I like to think that all truly yellow types follow a very similiar path, one that to others, may be considered deceiving. The problem lies in the actual happiness and yellowness of my character. You see, the yellow factor is simply this: those who are happy, and act out of happiness of being with people (and therefore out of a sometimes shallow, sometimes deep love) must by nature confuse all those of opposite gender around them. Explanation: people who naturally are happy to see others and are willing to act so about anyone they are happy to see are more practiced in making others feel good, and so are more capable of doing so, in a broad sense. My point is that yellows have the odd habit (unintentional, I assure) of having many people believe that the yellow person likes them. Loving a yellow personality is a dangerous prospect, because everyone loves them, and because the happiness that they portray at seeing many people is often very sincere, it becomes nearly impossible to tell only from the social clues they give if there is any real regard on their part. It's the Yellow Factor.
I've known lots of wonderful yellow people in my life, who had an enchanting, quick smile and laugh, eager for good times and good company. I have had a crush (could you call this having loved?) on many of them, for just those reasons. The accompanying appreciation that they have for many souls endears them to many, and gives hope to people who otherwise might not dare to venture much past a head nod. I think yellows make the world a better place, but they also fall prey to the Yellow Factor. I realize that this sound like self praise as I am very verbally yellow, but honestly I am thinking of girls that I have known who are such. Fwidipan, who I don't think can be described as a complete yellow but certainly has some very amberish leanings, is one such person and is known of having people love her wherever she goes. I don't mean to embarrass her in particular, merely I wish to express that there are plenty of yellow peoples around that fall into this category. That is why, my friends, when loving a yellow, it is best to determine what is truly felt by open communication.
This Yellow Factor leads to some hardship, to be sure. I have come to realize, both through reading and personal acquaintance, that actions and words can often be interpreted in ways that are not completely adherent to the truth. While on a date I explained to my partner of the evening that I have the tendency to not show my complete personality to anyone until I get to know them better, to which she replied "so you're telling me you're a slow mover?" I'm not sure that's the best thing to ask a guy on a date (unless you'd really prefer they weren't), but I digress. The truth is that my motivation for saying that was to point out that my date most likely didn't know me, just a half me, polished and presented to the world to ensure that rejection is not complete, and that if my partner really wanted to know me, she would have to be willing to dig. See, there was a miscommunication (one that, I'm sad to say, was never really understood). The point of that whole paragraph was to say that we can be mislead by our perception of people, and that one must be careful not to fall prey to the Yellow Factor, to believe that a yellow is in love with you when, really, they are just nice people.
It becomes really hard to not have problems when a yellow is a close friend. By some divine blessing many of these wonderful people have the best shoulders for crying, the most understanding words, the most comforting hugs. It's hard not to fall in love with anyone like that, and it's hard for that type of people not to give the comfort. I have known no distress like feeling I could not comfort a close friend, for fear of that person believing that I was interested romantically in her. Perhaps this paranoia on my part is unfounded, and often I have crossed a rather uncomfortable boundary in order to play the role of comforting friend. Time only will tell whether or not I was wise to do so.
Does this blog make any sense? Perhaps I haven't really said anything that others don't already know, and perhaps there will be few who really understand what I'm saying (seeing as I have a rather rambling rhetoric in this blog). I was expecting to be humorous, but I'm afraid that I came off altogether too serious. But there it is, my friends. Beware the yellow factor. People who are loved by all are dangerous indeed.
It's always been interesting to me to observe how many people show their interest in others, speaking of a romantic or at least more than friends type interest. There is the nervous type, who the minute the liked person walks into the room they barrage everyone with an incessant flow of verbology. Then there are the exuberant type, who assaults the person that they like with compliments. There are the shy types, who avoid any and all actual signs of liking someone, such as a smile, making eye contact. There are even those that hide any liking behind a joke.
Mine is a strange road, the type of attraction I have and the way I show it. I like to think that all truly yellow types follow a very similiar path, one that to others, may be considered deceiving. The problem lies in the actual happiness and yellowness of my character. You see, the yellow factor is simply this: those who are happy, and act out of happiness of being with people (and therefore out of a sometimes shallow, sometimes deep love) must by nature confuse all those of opposite gender around them. Explanation: people who naturally are happy to see others and are willing to act so about anyone they are happy to see are more practiced in making others feel good, and so are more capable of doing so, in a broad sense. My point is that yellows have the odd habit (unintentional, I assure) of having many people believe that the yellow person likes them. Loving a yellow personality is a dangerous prospect, because everyone loves them, and because the happiness that they portray at seeing many people is often very sincere, it becomes nearly impossible to tell only from the social clues they give if there is any real regard on their part. It's the Yellow Factor.
I've known lots of wonderful yellow people in my life, who had an enchanting, quick smile and laugh, eager for good times and good company. I have had a crush (could you call this having loved?) on many of them, for just those reasons. The accompanying appreciation that they have for many souls endears them to many, and gives hope to people who otherwise might not dare to venture much past a head nod. I think yellows make the world a better place, but they also fall prey to the Yellow Factor. I realize that this sound like self praise as I am very verbally yellow, but honestly I am thinking of girls that I have known who are such. Fwidipan, who I don't think can be described as a complete yellow but certainly has some very amberish leanings, is one such person and is known of having people love her wherever she goes. I don't mean to embarrass her in particular, merely I wish to express that there are plenty of yellow peoples around that fall into this category. That is why, my friends, when loving a yellow, it is best to determine what is truly felt by open communication.
This Yellow Factor leads to some hardship, to be sure. I have come to realize, both through reading and personal acquaintance, that actions and words can often be interpreted in ways that are not completely adherent to the truth. While on a date I explained to my partner of the evening that I have the tendency to not show my complete personality to anyone until I get to know them better, to which she replied "so you're telling me you're a slow mover?" I'm not sure that's the best thing to ask a guy on a date (unless you'd really prefer they weren't), but I digress. The truth is that my motivation for saying that was to point out that my date most likely didn't know me, just a half me, polished and presented to the world to ensure that rejection is not complete, and that if my partner really wanted to know me, she would have to be willing to dig. See, there was a miscommunication (one that, I'm sad to say, was never really understood). The point of that whole paragraph was to say that we can be mislead by our perception of people, and that one must be careful not to fall prey to the Yellow Factor, to believe that a yellow is in love with you when, really, they are just nice people.
It becomes really hard to not have problems when a yellow is a close friend. By some divine blessing many of these wonderful people have the best shoulders for crying, the most understanding words, the most comforting hugs. It's hard not to fall in love with anyone like that, and it's hard for that type of people not to give the comfort. I have known no distress like feeling I could not comfort a close friend, for fear of that person believing that I was interested romantically in her. Perhaps this paranoia on my part is unfounded, and often I have crossed a rather uncomfortable boundary in order to play the role of comforting friend. Time only will tell whether or not I was wise to do so.
Does this blog make any sense? Perhaps I haven't really said anything that others don't already know, and perhaps there will be few who really understand what I'm saying (seeing as I have a rather rambling rhetoric in this blog). I was expecting to be humorous, but I'm afraid that I came off altogether too serious. But there it is, my friends. Beware the yellow factor. People who are loved by all are dangerous indeed.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
A Teaser
Friends and bloggers, lend me your eyes! For I come not to destroy hopes, but to fulfill them. Sweet sleep, robbing my eyes of light, will give back to the moon some tarnished beauty, and once, once and for all I will prevail! Indeed, my words are a stool, come sit on them!
All of the quotes or versions of sayings that went before are examples of things that can happen when I get tired. See, when I get tired a funny thing happens. I know how ridiculous I sound when I say things like what I just say. I know (for the most part) how foolish things will be coming out of my mouth long before my voice strings begin to vibrate, but when I’m tired, I don’t care! I could care less what people think of me, nor what kind of impression I’m leaving. Normally I am a very happy person, and there are few who can truly get me to shut up. Maybe if someone I really liked but was nervous around walked into the room that might shut me up, but honestly I doubt it. Along with this happy talkative nature is also an energetic need to be constantly doing, or something. However, when the time for sleep is come and I no longer have any real energy, this talkative and twitchy tendency turns into a rambling person who says weird stuff, and then states his exhaustion with life. Seriously, today I am willing to bet that if you lay me on a couch anywhere, I will fall asleep. Even if a girl I liked were sitting opposite me, or instead of a girl it were a firecracker, or even if it were a firefighter with a running hose, or maybe a boa constrictor, maybe a clown, or how about a cowboy, those are scary, good food, a killer something or tother, it would register little above the normal range, and I would be asleep within five minutes. That’s right, the only thing keeping me up right now is the fact that I started this blogathon, and I will see it to the end. I will! And if I don’t, well, oh well, I may survive shame and scorn for another day.
As lame as this is, this blog is only to introduce tomorrow’s topic, something that I have been thinking on for the past week or so, and now, with the completion of my first week in the date-a-week series of 2008, I have come to a conclusion. The conclusion I have come to is about something that I will hence call the Yellow Factor. Got you interested? That’s the point.
And now, I will fall asleep.
All of the quotes or versions of sayings that went before are examples of things that can happen when I get tired. See, when I get tired a funny thing happens. I know how ridiculous I sound when I say things like what I just say. I know (for the most part) how foolish things will be coming out of my mouth long before my voice strings begin to vibrate, but when I’m tired, I don’t care! I could care less what people think of me, nor what kind of impression I’m leaving. Normally I am a very happy person, and there are few who can truly get me to shut up. Maybe if someone I really liked but was nervous around walked into the room that might shut me up, but honestly I doubt it. Along with this happy talkative nature is also an energetic need to be constantly doing, or something. However, when the time for sleep is come and I no longer have any real energy, this talkative and twitchy tendency turns into a rambling person who says weird stuff, and then states his exhaustion with life. Seriously, today I am willing to bet that if you lay me on a couch anywhere, I will fall asleep. Even if a girl I liked were sitting opposite me, or instead of a girl it were a firecracker, or even if it were a firefighter with a running hose, or maybe a boa constrictor, maybe a clown, or how about a cowboy, those are scary, good food, a killer something or tother, it would register little above the normal range, and I would be asleep within five minutes. That’s right, the only thing keeping me up right now is the fact that I started this blogathon, and I will see it to the end. I will! And if I don’t, well, oh well, I may survive shame and scorn for another day.
As lame as this is, this blog is only to introduce tomorrow’s topic, something that I have been thinking on for the past week or so, and now, with the completion of my first week in the date-a-week series of 2008, I have come to a conclusion. The conclusion I have come to is about something that I will hence call the Yellow Factor. Got you interested? That’s the point.
And now, I will fall asleep.
Friday, February 1, 2008
A Late Night
Late nights can be amazing. Tonight my late night is just tired. It's gotten to the point where making a complete sentence in my brain is an abnormality. That being said, I fully intend to end this blog in three completed incomplete sentences.
I have discovered that an aforementioned (in another blog) accentricity of relationships, namely the two girl one guy thing, has a weird affect on the male of the company. In saying this I relate to both work experience and hanging out last night with WM-Star and Fwidipan. Though I enjoy myeslf with them and I can bear work with equanimity (I'm not sure that's a word and at this point I don't care), I can't help but notice in these situations how dreadfully easy it is for the male to become uninvolved with any and all conversations.
I told you, three sentences, that's it.
I have discovered that an aforementioned (in another blog) accentricity of relationships, namely the two girl one guy thing, has a weird affect on the male of the company. In saying this I relate to both work experience and hanging out last night with WM-Star and Fwidipan. Though I enjoy myeslf with them and I can bear work with equanimity (I'm not sure that's a word and at this point I don't care), I can't help but notice in these situations how dreadfully easy it is for the male to become uninvolved with any and all conversations.
I told you, three sentences, that's it.
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