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Some funny April Fool's Day jokes went around at work. When I got there, someone had taped a sign to the bathroom mirror that said something to the effect of "This mirror is out of order. Please do not use." And someone else sent out an email saying that tomorrow was "bring your pet to work day" and people in cubicles could bring in a mouse or gerbil, while people in offices could bring something larger, like a teeny tiny Chihuahua, as long as it didn't yip too much. It's good when people at work let their hair down sometimes.
In a bad mood over something petty. How come it seems like everyone has a significant other? I mean, is that really the be-all and end-all of life? Perhaps I'm just shallow. I've always considered myself too selfish to have a significant other, and I have never been truly happy in a relationship, but is this because of me or because the people I was with weren't right for me? That is something I never want to figure out. Online dating scares me. I have been tempted to try it, but it seems so lame and pitiful.
I am actually writing this on the 4th. I skipped a day because I didn't want to turn my computer on. Writing my Camp NaNoWriMo novel in longhand is helping with that and keeping my eyes away from the screen, so I don't get terribly tired. But it's like I crave screens. When my computer was off, I got the urge to play on my Nintendo 2DS. Weird. I can't play on that thing for more than an hour at a time before my eyes start getting tired. Regardless, it was good to get off the Internet for a day.
Every now and then, I do this lame thing where I read back through my old journals from 10 or more years ago, when I was a teenager. Most of them are about guys I used to like but was too darn shy to actually talk to. Then it leaves me wondering what those guys are doing now and how many of them are married and/or have kids. I wonder what they would have been like as boyfriends. Perhaps they would have been abusive in some way, or they might have been nice and friendly and normal and happy.
Listening to Kate Tempest on YouTube, at the recommendation of one of my blog friends. Odd choice for Easter, I know, but it's an interesting combination of rap and poetry. Odd in a good way but not my type of music.
In other news, I'm not sure what it means to be a "feminist." Therefore, I do not consider myself a feminist or an antifeminist or anything like that. I think different people have different views on what "feminist" means, but the most common one I hear is that a feminist is someone who wants equal rights for men and women.
People are different, and I have a hard time wrapping my head around that. Despite being connected to the entire world via the Internet, I remain pretty insulated. I guess we are only as insulated as we make ourselves. There was something on the news about the Internet filtering information to fit your preferences and turning into a kind of echo chamber where we hear only what we want to hear. So if you read only liberal news, you will never hear the conservative side and vice versa, therefore making you more narrowminded and insulated. Scary stuff, but it's real.
Supposedly, there was some kind of hack that happened to the White House. Or maybe there was a power outage. I don't know, but some kind of catastrophic event took place. Microsoft Word was refusing to save my document at work, so I thought that perhaps the hack affected all the computers in the United States at the same time. Little things. Like the screen freezing for a second or a web page not loading. But that's just my paranoia talking. I think I will forever fear Microsoft Word refusing to save the document I'm working on for whatever reason.
Another April 8 has come and is going. (Can't say "has come and gone" yet because it's come but it ain't gone.) I was thinking about a lot of things, mostly about how I left my rings on his dresser. I left the German cross on his dresser, too, and it now hangs in my other ex's room. Little does he know where it was. Little does he know that the other guy slept on the pillow that I gave him. Two other guys slept on that pillow, actually. (Wait - that makes me sound skanky, but I promise I'm not!)
This is random, but today is my ex's father's birthday, and he turns 50. I can't believe that he's that young. My parents are much older than 50, but I guess it all depends on when you start having kids. Twenty kids in the same kindergarten class could have parents ranging in age from 21 to 41, and that's kind of interesting. Not sure all those parents would have much in common, but it's weird to think about reproductive "ranges" and the ages of parents and grandparents. This post makes no sense. I'm breathing in too much pollen from outside.
I don't have much to write. I feel lazy for some reason, probably because it's Friday. I tell myself that I'm going to get things done, yet I collapse in front of the screen and get nothing done. What is it about screens that sucks you in?
I cut my hand on a computer when I was sticking my hand inside, trying to plug in a wire. Now my whole body itches. I wonder if I'm itching because of the computer (did it have tetanus? But it wasn't rusty...) or because it's warm outside and there are mosquitoes around.
It's dead on social media on Friday nights. I suppose that's a good thing -- people are actually getting out in the world rather than hanging around in front of computers... or maybe they all just went to bed early to catch up on sleep that they missed during the workweek.
It's early morning and I hear the birds singing. I'm drinking coffee and trying to get the motivation to write. The cat is lazy and trying to get the motivation to jump into my lap without sliding off or knocking my coffee on top of her.
It's finally Saturday.
Bleh, so my whole post got deleted before I had a chance to publish it. I had a nice post about April 12 and how the weather is wonderful most of the time in April (at least to me, probably because I'm not allergic to pollen and I live in a beautiful state).
I was writing about the so-called decline of marriage and what that means. Is cohabitation really as bad as it's made out to be? Is taking a test drive really a good alternative? Depends on the couple, depends on the society, depends on so much.
For the weirdest reason (probably no reason actually), I'm listening to cheesy 80s power ballads that I like sometimes but not all the time. Total Eclipse of the Heart, The Flame (Cheap Trick), Angel (Aerosmith), and some others. I love how dramatic those songs are. It's like they're tailor-made to movie soundtracks and have all the power of all the love in the world behind them, but that's just me being an odd fangirl. Tomorrow, I probably won't be able to stand listening to any of that stuff and I'll be into something else. Like angry white boy grunge.
These are odd, busy times. There might be a re-org at work. For some companies that might mean firing and hiring. Cleaning out the riff-raff, as someone else might put it. Sometimes I feel as though I am asleep. The days rush by with no break or vacation in sight, and this is my fault a lot of the time because I do not ask for personal time off. I do not realize I am on the brink of mental collapse until I am two seconds away from collapsing. Reminds me of a car that has broken down.
A terrible thing happened in the news, but I couldn't help thinking that it would make an awesome story idea. The tattooed villain with the sad backstory who believes he is the “good guy” in a situation that everyone else sees as a hate crime... and the gay professor who is only being himself and got on the bad side of the wrong student (without intending to).
Not that I sympathize with the villain (I don’t). I just think it would be a good “unreliable narrator” kind of story, perhaps even one of those thriller novels.
For some reason, I like reading books about pregnant teenagers. Not sure why, though. Maybe because all teenagers have narrowly escaped being pregnant or getting someone pregnant. Hormones are very strong, and you always have that feeling that you're invincible.
I need to get a stronger backbone, a thicker skin, and an icepick to break down the wall of fear around me. Or else I'll never grow and I'll be like a flower with an arched stem, trying to struggle up with a ceiling that's slowly closing in on it. A depressing image, but I can't let fear win.
Springtime is upon us in full force. My car normally sits in a parking deck all day, but even then, it gets covered with pollen. On the campus at work, there are a ton of pine trees, and supposedly they give off the worst pollen, or the greatest amount of pollen. I think my officemate is afflicted by pollen. She keeps clearing her throat and coughing. I'm doing the same thing, probably twice as much as her, but I have constant postnasal drip and I'm not sure why. I know, that was way more information than you needed to know.
I got three little notebooks from the dollar store (can't remember whether it was Dollar General, Dollar Tree, or Family Dollar -- some store with "dollar" in it) and they all cost (duh) a dollar each. Normally I don't buy things that often and I rarely buy on impulse, but I can always use notebooks and these were cheap and had cute designs, so I figured why not? Lately, it's taking me ages to get through my journals because there's nothing to write about except random funny stuff that happens during the day. Most of it's a bunch of inside jokes.
I went on an Evanescence listening spree, and I have a bunch of their songs stuck in my head. I used to be a much bigger fan of Ev than I am today, and I still greatly enjoy their music, but it's gotten to the point where I listen to it and roll my eyes at how overdramatic it is. Maybe it's because there's no situation in my life that I can use the music to get through. Music is for situations. It's always much better and easier to get through a situation when you find a song to fit.
I am a Luddite when it comes to technology, and I'm one of those millennials. Kind of weird. I never use microwaves, not because I'm afraid of them but because I just have never used one. I guess if I was trapped somewhere with a microwave and no stove or oven or even a toaster oven, I would have to learn how to use the microwave, but for now I will continue to be a Luddite and spend 5 minutes preparing meals instead of 5 seconds. Patience is a virtue, and it cannot be taught by those little microwave ovens.
I overheard some talk about labels on Tumblr. Some people like to label themselves as a feminist or whatever. Then they might get upset because of all the qualities people might associate with that label. But they still manage to label themselves other things, perhaps less controversial things. Like gamer or nerd or bookworm or what have you. I think that's what it is, but I don't want to contribute to the conversation on Tumblr because I don't really know enough about the situation. Best to not stoke the flames or poke the bear or draw attention. Remain quiet. Calm.
I am tasked with writing a short story about an uncomfortable situation. This might take a little while before I really get the inspiration to write it, but I think I already know where I'm going with it. So many uncomfortable situations happen between my characters already, so why not make one of them into a short story? Those are fun to write and relatively low maintenance compared with longer stories. I think I mostly write longer stories so I won't have to publish them or do anything with them. A cop out, but it's a good fun cop out.
I have 100 words to write and a cat who wants to sit on my lap and prevent me from typing. Also, I had better take my work shirt off before she shreds it. That's better. I hear it's snowing up north. I'm glad I don't live up there, or I'd be really irritated... but who knows? If I was used to the cold weather, maybe I'd just roll my eyes and forget about it. It wouldn't mean much to me, other than, perhaps, a minor inconvenience. There are a lot of those in life, but that's life for ya.
Supposedly, there were explosions in a neighborhood near mine. I didn't hear or feel them, but some people in the neighborhood did, and they were pissed. Of course, I would be too if people were making stuff in my neighborhood explode, but the only way someone will raise a formal complaint is if someone gets injured. That's the way it is around here. They are a bunch of crazy rednecks. No offense to the crazy rednecks out there, but some of us aren't rednecks and don't like random explosions going off at all hours of the day and night.
One of the things I miss about LiveJournal was that there was hardly anyone on it. Those who were on it weren't involved with social justice issues (at least, not as much as the people on Tumblr). They kept to themselves, and they were more interested in character fandoms (not that the people on Tumblr aren't... not by a long shot). Tumblr seems to be a lot of feminists screaming at those they perceive as the "anti-feminists" about gender equality and other issues. I don't think anyone learns anything from the "arguments," so it all doesn't really matter much.
Sometimes I read a book that's so good it makes me want to quit writing because I know I'll never write anything as good. That's no reason to quit writing. I write because I have a lot of fun getting into frustrating situations with my characters, and I write because I can't not write. In a way, it's a form of therapy. Seeing your thoughts appear in front of you, visualizing characters in your mind, and seeing a story come together are very satisfying. I wouldn't stop writing for anything. Even if my hands fell off, I'd find a way.
I just read something that I'm not 100% sure is a valid fact. Something like 97% to 98% of people between the ages of 25 and 44 are not virgins. So that means only 2% to 3% are actually virgins... (Captain Obvious strikes again!) How odd is that? I guess that proves how strong the human sex drive is. You can opt out of sex for your entire life if you so desire. It also makes me wonder how many of those 2% to 3% are asexual and have no interest in sex and how many of those are heterosexual.
I think it's allergies, but I have a constant feeling of a tickle in my throat and in my nose. I already sneezed once, but this time, I feel like I haven't sneezed at all and still have all these sneezes built up inside me just waiting to come out.
Just sneezed again. Still feel all gross on the inside of my nose and my throat.
In other news, I got my measly check from jury duty. But hey, it's better than getting nothing, and it was a nice break from work and the long commute back and forth.
Here are a couple of mini-rants for your reading pleasure (or displeasure):
Revenge porn: Why the hell would you take a picture of yourself naked in the first place? I don't care how "in love" you are with the recipient of the photo. You never know where that photo will end up when you break up.
Celebrities: Why would you go out of your way to impress a celebrity -- even to the point of forsaking your religious views? It's ridiculous. Celebrities don't care about what you have to say anyway. They don't deserve their fans' obsession and adoration.
No mini-rants for today. I just want to write a little bit about nothing in particular. I thought my cat ran away permanently, but she came back around dinner time. I have another outdoor cat, and I thought he chased her away, but apparently, he didn't intimidate her that much.
I like when I come to the end of a month. Then you think back to the first day of the month and wonder how it all went by so fast. You did stuff back at the beginning of the month that you don't even remember doing anymore. Weird.
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