More ranting.

So, without getting too much into the subject, I had a very upsetting conversation with my mother yesterday about "why you don't talk to your brother anymore" and blah-blah.  You see, because our birthdays fall so close together (mine is unfortunately the day after his - as usual, it's not even about me on the day I was born, go figure), every year I'm subjected to what I call "the duty phone call".  Basically, I'm supposed to call my brother and wish him a happy birthday.  That's fine and dandy... but where's MY call?  Why am I "required" to call him but he never has to call me?  He has a phone and fingers that aren't broken.  It basically boils down, as usual, to "it's all about him".  He's not required to do a goddamn thing that's unpleasant.  And yes, I hate to say it, but it's the truth - talking to my family, for the most part, is unpleasant and it's something that I just deal with because I have to. 
 
I know.  That sounds really, really bad, especially now that my mother is sort of making an effort to try to repair what relationship there is left - but it's times like these that she just DOESN'T GET IT.  Every action that she took when I was a kid, it was to save his ass when he got it into trouble in the first place.  When I was 9 years old and had to leave the Catholic school that I loved because we had to move, it was because of MY BROTHER'S ACTIONS that it happened.  We moved to a roach box in Brooklyn because of HIS ACTIONS.  I ended up living with that fucking bitch of a girlfriend of his because, and I quote my mother, "I was afraid for your brother, I was afraid he'd do something drastic."  Uh... pardon me for saying this, but don't you think that trying to kill yourself (and nearly succeeding) at 15 is DRASTIC?  I'd say it is, wouldn't you?  Yet I didn't do what HE did - I just shut up and suffered it all alone, didn't I?  Just like I do now, sort of, isn't it?
 
As horrible as it sounds, I was molested at the age of 8 by a person that at one time was considered to be my brother's friend.  While I'm not going to try to lay THAT on my brother's doorstep... at the same time, I can't help but think the "if only, if only"...
 
Bah.  It no longer matters.  I'm just tired of being second fiddle to my brother, whether consciously or otherwise.  And I'm sick of letting this upset me, too.  Unfortunately, this shit is and has been a pivotal force in my life, where the injustice of all of it has been on my mind for decades. 
 
In additional upsetting family news, the whole conversation started because my brother is forwarding a birthday card to me - from my father.  Which is additional proof that no one fucking listens to me, because I specifically requested that my father no longer contact me in any way, shape or form - be it letters, cards or whatever.  Because, you see, my father never writes them.  It's my stepmother that writes them, and I don't want to hear from HER.  I want to hear from HIM.  And I never do. 
 
Besides... my father is 30 years too fucking late to make up for any of what he's done. 
 
Meh, sorry.  I know that I said earlier that I wasn't going to talk about any of this much, but I guess it's really upset me to the point where I have to get it out.  I'm just fucking tired of all of it. 
 
No other news, unfortunately.  Other than this bullshit, everything's fine.
 
At least I'm not a melting, screaming wreck.  That's something, anyway.
 

A bit of musical nonsense.

Since it IS my birthday week coming up, I thought I'd have a look at what was popular at a few junctures of my life...

The #1 song when I was born was this:



1972, March 25 - April 14:
A Horse With No Name - America

When I was 10 (1982): March 20 - May 7:
I Love Rock n' Roll - Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

When I was 15 (1987): March 21 - April 3:
Lean On Me - Club Nouveau

When I was 18 (1990): March 24 - April 6:
Black Velvet - Alannah Myles
(I LOVED this song, by the way. Still do. The remake is a piece of shit.)

When I was 21 (1993): March 13 - April 30:
Informer - Snow
(Hahaha. I can't think of this song without seeing the "In Living Color" version by Jim Carrey. Snicker.)

When I was 25 (1997): February 22 - May 21:
Wannabe - Spice Girls
(Sigh. It's getting progressively worse, isn't it.)

When I was 30 (2002): March 9 - April 19:
Ain't It Funny - Jennifer Lopez featuring Ja Rule
(Ummm... huh? Now I'm LOST.)

I don't think I'll even continue past this point, because I won't know the songs, most likely, and even if I do I'm liable to think they're shit anyway. The last year I remember newer music that was considered 'mainstream' is 2001. After that, bleh. I go with friends' recommendations or word-of-mouth now, because I assure you that whatever the record industry puts out now is utter crap.

Anyhow, I just considered this semi-interesting...

The weirdness has struck again.

I had a relatively peaceful weekend - for once I didn't have a lot of schoolwork to do or anything much to worry about, and I enjoyed it, to be certain.  But that all changed around 7 or so Sunday night.  My stomach started to ache to the point where I couldn't get to sleep very well, though my body finally gave up around 11pm or so.  But... I can still feel traces of the aching even now, and it's nearly Monday afternoon.  I think it's stress, though I can't imagine what I have to be stressed about.  Things are going as well as they can be going right now.  I don't have any external worries at the moment - my finances are in good shape, my depression is very much under control (I think), my job is going okay (even though I hate it, it's still not like there's any major crises happening or anything).  So why the hell do I feel so unhappy?
 
It's times like these that I feel like nothing I do makes a difference.  No matter how 'well' I do or how much I accomplish, I still feel empty inside, like everything is meaningless.  I could buy a house, achieve dizzying heights in my career (if taking urine can be considered a 'career', anyway), get the college degree, do everything I ever dreamed of doing - and somehow, none of it matters or has the ability to make me happy.  I don't know what to do about this gaping, huge wound in my soul.  Nothing fills it.  What the fuck is the matter with me?
 
Forgive me, as I'm obviously melancholy today.  I'm just really afraid that everything I'm doing is for naught, sometimes.  It doesn't help that my birthday falls in the next two weeks, because now I feel old and used up, just as I did last year - only now I'm OLDER and used up, heh.  I know, it just doesn't seem normal for me to feel old at this age... but I feel like I've seen it all.  Jaded, I guess you could say. 
 
I suppose that I'm just tired today.  Things will improve, including my mood, in time.  Everything will be all right.  Right now, the way I feel is better than I was this time last year, so I guess if one looks at it that way...
 
Later.
 
 

Death and cancellations.

I wasn't really going to write anything today, but I was at work this morning and someone told me that Corey Haim, the dude in "The Lost Boys" (which I never actually saw but heard megatons about it because all of the girls in junior high were squealing over it), died today.  I know nothing about him other than a.)  he was once a big teen idol and b.) he was my age, 38 (or at least I will be 38 soon anyway). 
 
The fact that Corey Haim is dead isn't really what bothers me, as cold as that sounds.  I wasn't a fan of his, I didn't follow his career, I could care less.  But what DOES bother me about this situation is that too many of my generation's "idols" are dying - before their time, and of stupid shit like drug addiction.  It's like when Kurt Cobain died - same thing, I hated Nirvana, I hated the grunge scene, I made Cobain death jokes left and right when it happened.  But it's all so fucking senseless.  That, like Haim's death, was totally unnecessary, though I understand Cobain's a bit better, perhaps due to the depression angle...
 
In any case, it just bothers me to no end.  I guess that's because it's a way of facing my own mortality - that we of Gen-X AREN'T invincible, that we WILL die, that we won't be here forever.  I sit here and I can't quite believe that I'm two years from 40.  I think of all of my years, a lot of them lost to depression and to misdirection, wrong turns, bad choices.  I think of what I could have done differently, and thousands of regrets.  But then I think of the fact that regrets won't allow me to move ahead, and that's what I have to keep on trying to do, move ahead, forge on with my life.  Hey, the people in medieval times did it and they had even less than what we do now, right?  So if they can, I can.
 
On another topic, I'm sure you noticed that the picture of the ship above the posts isn't there anymore.  That's because I went ahead and canceled the cruise I was going to go on.  Why, right?  Would've been fun, yeah?  For someone else, yes, it probably would have been, but for me... well, let's face it, I already know that I didn't have a good time on the cruise I went on with my mother.  I don't think that going alone is going to change that.  I just didn't enjoy what cruising has to offer, which is pretty much bingo games, drinking and eating until you're sick.  I'm not interested in any of that.  If I want to go to the Bahamas, I'll fly there and spend six days THERE, not five out of six trapped on a boat bored out of my mind.  It's just not for me.  It also doesn't help that I'm not a very social person, either, and on a boat you can't avoid these motherfuckers trapped with you.  No, thanks, I think I'll choose another way to go on vacation. 
 
Not much else going on, really.  Still watching, still waiting, still playing the life game, heh.  I'm feeling mentally better, which is good.  I don't want to say that I've beaten this depression thing just yet... but I feel a fuck of a lot more confident about it than I have for a long, long time, so that can't be anything but good.
 
Things are starting to look up.

There IS a "God".

Useless got transferred to another location.  She won't be back!
 
Oh.  thank. Christ.
 
My life just got 90% easier over here at the unit... thank God, thank God, thank God.
 
I'd kiss the ground, but it's covered with urine, heh.
 

Friday again and time on my hands.

I really think that the lab should simply close up on Fridays.  There's not enough people here testing for it to be justified keeping this place open 12 hours a day.  With that complaint registered....
 
I've altered the ability to leave comments on the blog - at least temporarily (but I may just leave it this way from now on).  Yes, you can still leave comments on posts, no problem, I love comments and I do read them.  However, you now only have 2 weeks to do so instead of being able to do it at any time - and that's because I've been noticing a lot of comment spam appearing, especially on older posts in the archive.  I've removed it all now, but I don't mind saying that it irritated the living fuck out of me.  Nobody wants these moronic products these idiots keep trying to push.  An interesting thing, though - while I was going through the blog removing the spam, I came across a lot of drafts that were never published, old posts that I'd started and abandoned.  Just little fragments of thoughts here and there, it was mildly interesting.  I deleted them all, though, so it means that my 200th post really... wasn't my 200th post, boo hiss.  Eh, well, I'm surprised I've gotten this far with the blog in the first place, I've never followed through on anything I've started in my life.  That's one flaw I'll admit to.  Oh, and one more thing - I'm going to be paring down the list of blogs on the side, as some people either don't write in them anymore or they've changed their addresses, blah blah, so expect to see some things change soon.  Also considering a new background, too - I'm sick of the blue fucking roses, that wasn't meant to be permanent anyhow and it's ugly.  Heh.
 
While the beginning of the week was a hot mess, it's calmed down considerably since.  Last weekend was neither productive nor a good time for me, so I'm hoping this weekend will prove to be much better.  More homework, of course - it doesn't seem that it'll ever end - but I'll do the best that I can.  I have plans for the summer to finally get started on the driving course/school (if the MVA will let me, anyway, there seems to be a slight medical problem with my vision - doesn't that figure), a couple of easy classes to take, that sort of thing.  And waiting, as always.  Seems that I've turned inward on myself and I'm just concentrating on knocking out long-held goals for myself, one after the other.  So be it.  It's nothing that I didn't need to do anyway, and it's not like there's any pressing need for me to do anything else. 
 
Heh, I've only been here 35 minutes and I have an agonizing 7 hours to go.  I HATE working on Fridays.  Doesn't help when one of my coworkers is chatting mindlessly away about nothing in my ear while I'm trying to think and write my thoughts down.  Makes me want to put my hands around his neck and throttle him silent, heh.
 
I'm really not as dissatisfied with my life at the moment as it seems.  I just get tired of hearing the "clientele" bitch about a situation that they put THEMSELVES in, that's all.  The only thing that I want to do is scream "shut the fuck up" at them, but I can't.  I'm sure that people who have worked customer service counters feel the same way (and I DID work a customer service counter for 7 years, so I know from too much experience).  I'm just a little burned out, that's all.  Tired of the nasty habits and the uneducated thoughts that pop out of these peoples' mouths - but the sad thing is that I can't really blame them too much, as a lot of it is simply that, no education, not knowing any better.  The compassionate part of me (and yes, I DO have one, fuck you very much) sympathizes and wants to help, but the cynical, jaded part of me screams for these people to get off their lazy fucking asses and fix themselves, no one else is going to do it for them.  A hard line to walk, you know what I'm saying?
 
Anyway, I've rambled on long enough, I suppose.  I want to say that there'll be more later and that it'll be erudite and intelligent and blah-blah, but the fact is - who knows.  This blog hasn't been any of the above so far, so why expect it now?  :p
 
Bleh.
 

More bitching. Lucky you.

There's a lot of things that have been going on as of late, but for some reason I haven't felt the need to really describe them. Unfortunately, my mental health as of late hasn't been too good, although as usual I give off the appearance that everything is fine. I'll tell you, if I had wanted to, I would have made a mighty fine actress - though in truth I think it's that people see what they want to see. But, anyway.

This time of the year is never good for me, because my dreaded birthday is this month, toward the last 2 weeks. Just as I didn't share when it was last year, I won't do it this year, either. I just don't want to think about it, or celebrate it in any way. This might sound really bad, but I don't see the day I was born as something to celebrate or anything particularly noteworthy. It's a day like any other. It's a day where I made an appearance in a world that I never wanted to be in.

Unfortunately, what's happening at work is coloring a lot of my outlook right now, and a lot of it is not too pleasing to me at the moment. It's a long story, but there's a lot of changes going on and it's not for the better in my view. I am tired of the idiots I have to deal with day in and day out, I'm sick of explaining myself over and over and over and over and over (when anyone with a fucking brain can understand what I say), I'm tired of dealing with the dregs of society who do nothing but leech off of the system and do nothing to fucking help themselves. I'm sick of dealing with fucking urine and people who don't have the basic fucking sense to wear a goddamn sanitary pad or tampon when they're fucking bleeding. I'm tired of dealing with people who deliberately piss on the floor, don't flush the fucking toilets after themselves... this is the bullshit I have to deal with day in and day fucking out here. I'm utterly SICK of it.

I didn't mean this to turn into a rant, but in truth I guess that's what it is. Fuck it. Ask me if I care what anyone thinks.

Yes, I know, I'm grateful to have a job, blah blah. It's still my blog and I'll bitch if I choose.

Wish that I had some better news to report, but the truth is that there isn't.

I'm doing okay with my classes, at least that, though the math is giving me trouble as per usual. Screw it - I'm going for a criminal justice major, not a math major - as long as I get my C, fuck it. So far I'm managing to pass it, and if I stay there, all is well.

That's about it. Sorry that it's not more exciting or that I'm not in a better mood, but if you know me by now, you know that you either take what you get with me at the time, or you're welcome to walk. I could care less either way.

'night for now.