So a weekend with nothing to do and I'm near panic, what's wrong with me? Why am I so afraid to spend time with myself? Yeah I go home every night and I stare at my tv and maybe my computer, for a few hours and then I go to bed and wake up alone, but somehow the thought of spending whole days alone without talking to anybody kinda scares me. I'm sure this isn't normal, but it's still scary. If I look deeper into the fear, I guess my fear of death prevents me from wasting time alone. I realize that I have to go home to an empty apartment every night alone, but my waking hours should not be spent alone! I'm so afraid to spend my life alone.

I have a good serious post in me today, and the subject will be:

When Best Friends get Girl Friends, Nothing is Ever the Same.

I had meant to write this later, but this post is begging to come out, even if it is at work. Now this has happened to me, at least twice in my life. The first time when Eric, my friend in high school, got a girlfriend. They were so perfect for each other, but they always fought. The point there, I went from hanging out with him most days after school to being an occasional friend. But that was good in the long run because they got really, really into drugs and they never were going anywhere in life. Besides he was never truly my friend, just someone who pretended to be one while milking me for every cent I was worth. So that's a bad case, and one of these days I'll write about him, but that will be a long drunken post on a night where the future seems bleak and the past even Bleaker.

The next friend I had who got a girl friend worked out a little better. When Shane found Opal in Job Corps it was devastating to me. Opal always seemed like the only girl worth anything in that Hell hole, of course I felt the same way of Shane. He was the only person with ANY brains at that place. He was the one person with whom loyalty seem a given, the one person who would see me drop my wallet and not pocket the money out of it. People in that place were vicious, but he was the exception. So when my best friend and my crush got together it hurt so bad. I wanted to be supportive to them, and I eventually was, but there was a time of a couple of weeks or months when I just avoided them. I threw myself into learning to cook and becoming the best damned cook in that Hell. I spent my time reading everything that place had to offer. It was mostly cheap paperbacks, but I buried myself in them. I worked incredible hours in the kitchen so that when I wasn't there, I was sleeping and when I couldn't sleep I read. I became a pack a day smoker in that time too. It was a bad time, but I eventually snapped out of it. And when I did, there they were, still my best friends only this time I had two. Still even then when things worked the best way possible, I was still the 3rd wheel. Whenever I was with them I never quite felt like I belonged, but I didn't know where else to go, so I sat in a corner and read. Now Shane and Opal are amazing people and they were still my friends through that knowing that I can never understand what it's like to be in love, or even lust for that matter. And there it is.

I had meant to write another long paragraph about my new friend getting a girlfriend, but that's just not necessary. This is why it's such a huge deal to me to loose friends to girlfriends. Because I can never, NEVER, EVER understand what it's like to love, (like, lust, want) somebody and for them to feel the same way. I have had glimpses into it, but they were always fleeting. A few hours then it was over. But I can still feel it, where everything seems okay in the world and I would give anything to feel more of it. When you look into someone's eyes and see the same longing, the complete comfort and contentment with being with you. Where no part of you in anything but perfect, true soul mates. Okay, maybe I've never really felt that way, and it probably doesn't exist. But I have felt lust, I think. I have felt something before, maybe it's just a feeling of intense hope that my eternal loneliness may finally be over. But alas, I'm straying from the subject, but not really. The point is, the reason I always loose friends to girlfriends is because I can never understand how they feel. When they say they're in love, or even "man I wanna F*** (that girl)", I can never understand that. Because I've just given up. I've stopped trying for years and it hasn't gotten me anywhere. I always here that when you stop trying someone will come along. Except it won't. Nothing will ever come along, I know that now, and soon I hope that I'll be able to accept it.

So I'm drunk again, and this time panicking over little things, except they're not little things, these are insults to my way of like, who I am. That's just not, this bitch is ruthless, but with a cute face. Am I living in a cliche' or am I living at all? Right now I am in the middle of a panic attack, and I'm going to write it to document it. It's weird though, I can provoke my panic attacks and postpone them 'till later. Like I can feel one coming on, but I can talk myself out of it. Sometimes I'm just so afraid. And what I'm most afraid of: this ruthless girl can bring me down, just from what's she seen. She could get me fired if I she really wanted to, I should really explain my trains of thoughts, and maybe they'll seem irrational. . . . .

. . . I'd rather had a job where everybody hates me than no job at all. So there's my way out, and this is weird because my panic attacks are always a series of weird connections that end up in me loosing my job, or dyeing, or some other catastrophic event. But in the middle of an attack, then those least likely of possibilities seems like a certainty. The trouble is I don't wake up all better, for days and sometimes longer I feel at the edge of an attack. I can't tell anybody about this, and even as I'm writing this I'm afraid that this might come back on me. You know what (and this is the basis for my multiple personality theory) I look up at this entry and I see the words afraid a lot. I am really afraid for no good reason, and that's why I need paxil again. I know I need to do that, but in order to do that, I need to change my life style. The main thing, and that's what I'll work on this week and next is fast food and 7-11. I know those habits are bad and I did them for way to long, but now it's time to save money and go from spending $20 to $10 and freeing money for all the little things, like furniture, groceries, maybe even paxil. God this blog is getting boring, but trust me it's therapeutic.

So I went out drinking last night and I was having a good time, spending more money than I should, drinking whatever was put infront of me, etc. I was out with my family, and then we go into this redneck strip club and I'm in the bathroom, and before I know it, I'm getting punched in the face. I guess this is a part of going to bars, it sucks, but that's fine with me. What bothers me is my reaction. I started calling him "sir" and appologizing, then when it was over, and I'm not sure how it even stopped because I was That drunk, I started bawling. Not brawling like fighting and kicking somebody's ass, it was crying, tears everything. And I didn't stop crying for ten or twenty minutes. And you know what, it felt good. All that shit that I bottled up for so long about frustration with my job, my life, knowing that there's nothing I can do about it and just botteling it up, just finally came out. It's like those posts where I talk about all I want to do is cry, or I just can't take it anymore and at the end, I just say something like "alas, there's nothing I can do about it, so I'm just going to get kicked in the balls one more time and say FUCK IT!", finally I cried and it felt good after it was all done. I still feel ashamed, I still feel really, really ashamed, but it was around family, so it wasn't bad. It's not the way I should have handled it, but I learned a couple of leasons last night. One, if my survival instincts are really to appologize then cry, I really need new insticts. Two, my family (well at least my aunt, uncle, etc.) really are there for me no matter what through Hell and back, through my deepest falls and my highest highs, they will be there. And three, my mom really fucked up on me. I had always known this, I'd even talked about it, but last night made me realize how all of my social problems are my mom's fault. Which sounds bad because I'm not taking responsibility, but really it all goes back to her! And I really don't want to bash my mom, because I'm an American so I love my mama, ha ha. That's why I'm going to take out the "cheap whore" line from this post. All's well, what I gained from that night, before I got punched in the face and started crying, and even what I learned after made last night entirely worth while. Now as long as this doesn't go around the family, I'm good. And I realize a couple of people from my family read this blog, but I made a promise a long time ago that this blog is honest, raw emotion. I hold nothing back, because this will be a record of my decent into devine obscurity, or my rise to power!

So just when my job couldn't get any worse, and I realize that this shouldn't affect me at all, my best friend at work gets himself fired. It's not as if he needed the job, and he did take way too many days off, but still it effects my life more than anything has in the past year really. This job etc. has gotten routine and more than I care to admit it, the biggest part of my routine and the part that I enjoyed the most was hanging out after work with this particular friend. There were times when I thought it was less than normal to be hanging out with the same person most nights, and most of it was just working out way through various video games or debating which football team was better, what's going on in the world etc. But it gave me somebody to bounce idea off of, somebody to pretend to care when my family turns their back on me. Somebody so at least I'm not sitting in an empty apartment staring at the walls begging the universe to do something to me! And now, as much as I will want it to be the same, it just can't be.

I just hope that I don't break down and start sabotage myself like I did at Job Corps when Shane and Opal left. Things were never quite the same after they left, and neither was I. It was as if without Shane and Opal I didn't really have the will to be there anymore and I just wanted out, but I couldn't get out because there were no other options for me. So I just kinda stopped trying. I'm afraid that I will do this at this job too. Now that my support system is suddenly yanked away from me I just hope that I'm strong enough to keep going on my own. Alas, there's nothing I can do about it, so I'll just sit here and do my job, because that's what I do and there's no way around that. So here's to all of those that ever took a chance on an anti-social, somewhat smart, but genuinely good person, and all of those who left me on my own.

They did it again. As much as I've been hating my job already, they did it again. They shorted my paycheck again! They tried to fix it but they fucked it up again. My hatred towards this job is eating away at me, day after day I come to work and work my ass off for these people doing all this extra work that I'm not paid for. They expect me to train classes when it's not my job, I'm not trained to do it, and more importantly they DON'T PAY ME FOR IT!!! Now they're trying to short me again, it would be easy to just say FUCK IT. It's less than $150 dollars total, but goddamit that's my money! And of course there's that raise that I'm entitled to but never received and they say I'll receive it some time next week. Goddamit! Is this just bad karma from working at this place for too long and not feeling anything when a single mother with two kids calls and says her refridgerator isn't working, but we don't have service and she has to wait a week to find a servicer, but then they don't call in a week, so it's another week, and when the woman finally does get a servicer they take a look at it and order a part, tell her it will take a 3 or 4 days but then it takes two weeks, and then it's the wrong part. So the woman waits another week for another appointment only to tell her that the refridgerator can't be fixed and then it takes another 6 or 8 weeks to get her a refridgerator, meanwhile her kid who needs to keep insulin dies because it can't be kept cold, and I just don't care because there's nothing I can do! Is Karma finally catching up with me because I no longer care? What's with this world where it's nobody's fault and people still get screwed? How many times have I told people "there's nothing I can do, but I apologize for the huge inconvenience" these ass holes didn't even apologize. The didn't even pretend to care, to them who make real money (at least twice what I make) $140 before taxes means close to nothing, but they can at least pretend to care. I have to pretend to care about every single ass hole that I get on the phone. I have to put on a fake smile and say with at least FAKE sincerity "I apologize, let me fix that for you" and all the other bull shit scripting. They didn't even pretend to give a fuck! And the worst part of it, if they fuck up they next paycheck then my check will be too short for me to go to Reno, and I've already made the hotel reservations depending on this coming pay check, or the last check being able to pay all my bills, and then this one, if the next one doesn't have the $$$ I'm fucked! And they can go to Hell, those worthless pieces of shit. One mistake deserves another right. Well one more time, fuck them, fuck this job, and fuck this backwards, redneck, smelly town that tries to be Eugene but never comes close!

Sometimes, I just hate my job. Like today for no good reason, I hate this place, every day it's the same thing. Over and over and over again. Bad customers and stupid reps. Really do these people know anything about their job? And it's not just new people, these are people that have been here as long, or loger than me. I'm just so sick of this routine. And now I've gotten myself so far into debt that I will never be able to work my way out of it. But that's a worry that I can put away for a while anyway. Then they say it will be another week before I get my year raise. God I need a new job, a change of scenery, anything to get my mind off of work. This is getting to be too much for me. Then I realize that life isn't all that bad, I know it could be a lot worse, but does that mean I have to accept this boring, mind-numbing existence? Yeah probably, well like I used to say, life sucks and then you die, so fuck it!

Amazing and stupendous! I have a date on Saturday. This seems a bit surreal, considering I'm still hazy from last night and I've just donated blood, so the dizziness is multiplied plenty. But this girl that I kinda know from work and I've talked to on breaks etc. She's older 26 or 27, but still acts young. Into fantasy books, drinking etc. I've been on one date recently (sometime in July) and the results of that one were mixed. It was a good date, by the end of the date the girl really liked me, I was drunk, but waking up the next morning I realized I didn't like her, and it's been fairly awkward since. The girl's been trying to get with me, but I've made it clear (kinda) that I didn't like her and she stopped trying. The last date was a trip to the coast for beach combing, dinner and shopping. This date is just to a bar and bowling maybe. The difference between the last one and this one, I think I already like the girl. And is this going out as friends, or more? Did she just say yes because she's a nice person, she didn't hesitate to say yes, so that's' a good sign. I hear my friends talk about their exploits (three girls in three days) and it doesn't seem like a big deal at all.

I know saying she's 26 or 27 makes you think OLD, and that would make you think that she would know the difference, or at least be able to make it clear to me. If this is going out as friends, then we'd be paying for ourselves, if this is a date I'd be paying for everything. I know I should just be myself, but when how can I? Also I'm going to be driving, and going to a bar. How much is too much, especially on a Saturday night coming out of a bar, where the cops are going to be looking. I know online using my body weight, I can drink up to 10 drinks in an hour, but that's way, way too much. But is five drinks too much? A designated driver would be nice, but if this really is a date (rather than friends hanging out) then that isn't an option. And either way that really isn't an option. Also: now that I have a car, do I pick her up or do we meet at the bar? OMG, all I know about dates comes from Fraiser (the real Fraiser, not the code word) and one unsuccessful date.

AND what if it goes wrong? What if I do something stupid like getting too drunk , or thinking it's something more than it is? If this goes bad, this could go really, really bad. Carly said once that a night of drinking usually goes bad, and the fact that I my 21st birthday went so well was a miracle. On the other hand, if this goes good, this can go really, really, REALLY good.


But I have to look at this positively, I just got a date with a girl that I've had a crush on since she started here. And she didn't hesitate at all. Does that mean that she's had a crush too? What I really need to do is go into this with NO expectations. Period. Every time I've had any success with girls I've had no expectations, and it usually goes good. So maybe all these questions will work themselves out, and I'm sure they will. And I'm sure I'll have a great time. For now, it needs to leave my mind and I need to concentrate on something, anything else. Wish me luck.

An undefined sense of longing. It's been less than a month since my birthday weekend. That was a great weekend. A day at the fair, followed by a day of rest, then a night of binge drinking, to top it all off two full days at the coast just exploring beaches, etc. That was a great weekend where I could truly forget about everything for a few days. Now I'm already restless, like there is something bigger for me to do with life. Vacations just distract me from that, I know I'm climbing the ladder here, inch by painful inch. There is something seriously wrong with this situation, but it's something I can just barely comprehend. Like the old stick figure analogy to explain the possible existence of the 4th dimension of space. The stick figure can almost comprehend the 3rd dimension, but it can't access it. This is my situation.

Yeah, I know this wasn't much of an entry, and I'm not really hiding anything, but since feeling isn't as passionate as the hate or rage that I usually feel, it's just hard to write about. Sorry to all three people that ever read this.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I actually feel like crying. I am just so frustrated over little things in life, that all I want to do is crawl into a hole and cry. I know all of the things that I rant about now will seem irrelevant in a day or a week, but for now I scream! Actually, I don't scream, I let go of my facade of feeble masculinity, and let my emotions role. I'm not even mad, I'm just kinda sad. My paycheck was $100 short because of a mistake by my supervisor who makes enough that $100 would be very little to her. But to me, it means the difference between 2 weeks of feigned wealth, and 2 weeks of abject poverty. Yeah I have enough to pay my bills, but barely. I'm going to have to give up smoke, lunch, fast food, pretty much any food. I really don't know how I'm going to live for 2 weeks with less than $100 for food, cigarettes and gas. And to top it all off, I'm being treated so unfairly at work that I can barely hold myself together. I thought about putting myself back onto Paxil, but that has to wait another month, God I'm just so afraid that I can't handle it. But for now, I put a smile on my face, and fake happiness in my voice and I suffer. I bottle it up some more, and hope beyond reason that I'll be able to keep that lid on my emotions.

I don't like being excluded. God this seems just like high school, where I spent four years observing the "cool" people like animals in a zoo, while loosing myself in a haze of feigned rebellion. Now irony pokes it's head and I'm still on the edge. Why don't people ask me what I think? Because they don't care. What this comes down to is a meeting between my boss and some co-workers. Apparently it was to ask the question: what can bosses do to improve. It seemed that she had the people that she liked over there, and when I asked her what the criteria for being invited to the meeting were, she said there were none. So I smiled and said I understood, but to me it seemed JUST LIKE HIGHSCHOOL! OMG I hate it, all I wanted to do is tell her that if she wants to meet with her friends, she should do it on her own time. It's amazing that this far out of highschool people still treat me like shit! I know it wasn't a direct insult to me, but it sure feels like it. I hate being excluded, am I not was good as the other people? Do I not do as much work or more than everybody else, did I not learn a product that I didn't really care about just so people who did not want to deal with drunk, backwards redneck customers could send them to me? I mean what in the hell do I have to do to get ahead in this Hell? I know my attitude has sucked recently, but goddamn, who's wouldn't at this point? I do more than most people, I know more than most people, and they STILL don't invite me to their meeting? This is pure, refined BS. Why do I even try at this job to be anything more than a mindless, souless, automaton of a phone monkey? The reason is that I still crave appoval.

And that's it, isn't it. It's not like highschool where I stood on the outside of the social circles because I was afraid to get rejected. This is like growing up when the little sisters would constantly get more love, attention, stuff than me. This has nothing to do with high school, this all comes down to jealousy. It seems kind of archaic to be talking about jealousy after all I've been through in life, but that's what it comes down to. I am no better than that psycho little 10 year old that I used to be, with the rage rippling through my body and no good way to express it. Well at least now I have a way to express it (thank god for Blogspot.) Still it hurts to be left out. I thought that I've grown up, but I really haven't. I haven't really matured any from that sadistic teenager or that mad, scared little boy. The emotions are still there, I've just learned to control them a little.