Ive been thinking lately, about how the decisions you make now are supposed to sustain you for the rest of your frickin life. how fair is that?

i have to pick what job i want when im 18. ya i know A LOT when im 18. then i have to pick a spouse at like 25. im sure when im 40 ill be sooooooo impressed with my 25 year old knowledge. then soon after you are required to have children and raise them correctly. well, if you're in your twenties then clearly you're qualified with enough life experience to be morally, emotionally and financially responsible for mutliple lives. CLEARLY.

sometimes i feel that the best i can do is whats best for me now. worrying about forever is going to get no where because well, ill be different in 10 years, in 5 years, in 20 minutes. it will be a hole of circular logic.

how is it that the very experiences that give us experience are brought on by decisions made my naive inexperienced hoo-ha's. and yes i just made up that word.
for instance, people in their 40s that have overcome adversity, raised a family against odds, changed careers 4 times . . finally finding their bliss . . . seem like they have life experience, excellent advice, and a decent sense of contentment in their lives
people in their 40s with no kids, living like bachelors, overcoming few obstacles, working at a dead-end job with no motivation or energy to change paths . . well you wouldn't necessarily go to them for life advice.
sometimes it seems making mistakes in life is the only thing that keeps me together and hopeful for the future -

it's not even a little bit comforting that everyone else is in the same boat too.

okay, so finally caught up (somewhat) in life - booking plane tickets for weddings, vaccuuming, dusting, dishes, sleep? work? etc etc

there was a moment where i wished i had the swine flu (not the terminal kind) so i can just take a break from life and not have to do anything

if any of you decided you want to get married this year - f - u. i'm not coming. i'm done with weddings this year. DONE. if by some stroke of ridiculousness, i decide to get married this year. i will be obligated not to attend. i'm DONE.

so sometimes, midweek, especially during a long work week, 6-7 day week . . i get a little bitter, and a little cynical. i get less warm and less nurturing, and more fake.

watch how i am with you this week. if im too nice, it means i really hate you and i was forced to be fake with you. if i'm snippy, well that is the just the way the cookie crumbles this week :)

if anyone wants a michalada this week, please let me know

the only thing i want to do is curl up on in the living room watching gilmore girls - it's predictable, and lame and witty sometimes - just want i need to take my mind and dip it in some jello and freeze it.

okay, im back from twitter for an actual blog with actual complete thoughts.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/04/22/love.on.a.deadline/index.html?iref=t2test_livingwed

this woman has love on a deadline - good luck crazy.

okay so i've had a twitch in my left eye on and off for a few weeks now. there is either a good or bad luck factor in this according to my mother. which one? only time will tell.

i am now trying to recollect theories that may be of enough interest to discuss on 'da blog.

okay, people that love to hate the longhorns. get a life. we rule. i'm tired of this whole "you have too much pride" crap . . i mean really . . . so we found something in our aimless days of youth to guide us and nurture us into the fabulous* successes* we are today (*these terms are used loosely), so sue us. oh wait, in this world of frivolity . . you just might!

in other news, i reallllly love to hate the lakers. they are soo freaking good, that it's just pointless to not root for the other team . . . GO UTAH . . oh ya . . boozer's my homie. the whole utah team with their tailored goatees and waxed eyebrows look like the kumbia kings meet n'sync . . but taller i guess

today is hump day and i reaaaally wish it were friday. not even friday but like so way deep inside friday that the darkness of monday cannot reach me even two days away.

if anyone can find a way to eliminate allergies from life . . . or even specifically my life . . i'll give you five dollars. yes. and you can claim it in installments after you've paid taxes on it.

bloggity blog

here i am again - at home this time . . . letting my thoughts run like a banshee . . . and yes they scream like banshees too . . .

i feel my motherboard hanging on by her several final breaths and i scramble to make use of my companion laptop . . . the longest relationship i've had in years . . .

if you have not already noticed, i am largely a fan of the three dot ellipses. . .

here we embark on a time in our lives where the dust settles and the impossible becomes less possible, the unknown path of our future becomes slowly visible and is graced by (hopefully) thoughtful decisions and love and support . . . well . . i feel like i constantly beat this dead horse over and over, because it's just new and because of the nature of the beast, change is . . . a little less than dreaded and a little more than unwelcome . . .

done with the horse.

i think that people should not draw in their eyebrows with pencil unless the really have a circumstance in their lives where they grown no hair. otherwise, often times, it can look ridiculous. now if you've actually done it well, i havent noticed, then i don't care. kudos.

and does anyone else (that doesn't have an iphone and is insanely jealous of having one) find those little statements at the end of emails condescending?

" yada yada yada yada . . blah blah blah
and so on and so on and so on . . . . . . .
this is such an interesting email . . . . .
yours truly, t - money

Sent from my iPhone"


fantastic.

another thing. what about these rapper-turned-actors? really ? please pull yourself together and knock the bitches off your lap and wipe the dust off your nose before you try to have a facial expression on broadcast television. what producer/director/casting agent thought it was okay to have washed up wanna-be-pimps as the funny father figure or the tough guy cop . . .

judging by this blog, rants from home are a bit more bitter sounding eh?

happy notes

life has been good to me these past few weeks :)
god (or whatever aging bearded being is out there watching our every move), keep it coming paisano.

im into the italian thing for the moment - cant get enough of franky and his Mambo Italiano :)

also Peter Yorn - Lose You
and ive been obsessed with Peter Schilling for a while now . . i just heard one of his songs REDID in an F-ing LINCOLN commercial . . . that . . to me . . snatched my heart out of my chest . . i felt my stomach turn . . it was as if someone took Major Tom (the name of the song) . . slapped it around, and bent it over a table. but this time, the other watchmen did not come in and save the spectre of Major Tom. The defiled and tainted song was broadcasted and it all but stole a tear from my ungracious ducts.

god help the mainstream that keeps tempting me and disgusting me at the same time. this is one love-hate relationship i seem indebted to keep solid in my life.

The Final Cut - discussion

okay so there's this movie. The Final Cut. amazing title for the premise of the film by the way.

the premise: There is something called a Zoe Implant that can be implanted into an unborn child's brain that records audio and video through [the infant, then child, then adolescent, then teen, then adult ] 's eyes and ears. Upon death, the zoe implant can be accessed via external hardware storage device (it can fit in the palm of your hand) that can be retrieved from the Eye Tech Corporation. All the footage is then cut (via a computer called "the guillotine" yes aptly named) by independed contracters called "cutters." These cutters take hundreds of thousands of hours of footage (which the guillotine conveniently sorts into categories) and make a "rememory" which is shown to friends and family as part of the funeral process, about a two hour film supposedly encompassing the person's life and the essence of who they were.

some ethical points in the plot line: we're not meant to see things through anyone else's eyes; who are the cutter's to decide which parts of our lives make us who we are, and therefore how we are eternally remembered through the rememory; knowing that someone will be watching our life after we're gone, will it make us better people? and thereby not truly ourselves if we are acting on account that we are eternally being watched

i can get behind all the ethical points, as well as the insane coolness of this technology (should it ever exist) how far are we willing to go for coolness. pretty F-ing far sometimes. having all of my memories documented for me to retrieved at any point can be a powerful things, making me powerless at the same time. in therapy, memory is a powerful tool in understanding someone as they see themselves and as they see their lives. memory is far from objective, in actuality it can be one of the more subjective entities out there. we remember some things, forget others, we remember things different from others even if we shared the memory, colors are different, words are different. the point being, we remember things as we want them to fit into our idea of things. the things we cut out, they weren't really important to our schemas, to our world order. now, there will be exceptions, lesions, damage, alcohol that adversely affect memory as well . . but all that aside . . we would lose the power to taint our memory as sub- and un- consciously we do it, it has become an important blanket, an important mechanism that has worked for mankind thus far. taking away subjectability, having reality thrown at us whenever we need it, it can shake our world order to its core.

The Best Time = The Biggest Joke

Especially right after i graduated college, i had no sense of accomplishment and no sense of grandiosity about having a college education. I feel i breezed through it by the skin of my teeth . . . that i did my absolute best, not to do my best at school. Those four years, being the best of my life so far . . i have no doubt, will be the eternal "best time of my life."

with such an attitude, immortality at my fingertips, the certainity of large and grand unknown things in my future, everything a question and just living in the moment for today's drink specials and tomorrow's big exam. the naive thoughts that allowed me to fall deeply into everything i did. i don't wish i knew then what i know now. because, then, then would not have been as famous as it was.

but on the account of school, i feel that it was sort of a joke. i went to class every now and then, many classes i only showed up for the the syllabus on the first day and then on tests thereafter. for those classes with an electronic syllabus . . well . . it goes without saying . .

i slept and made friends, had philosophical discussions, read, ate, and mostly laughed and felt. i felt things freshly, for the first time ever and immersed myself in those things that had never done, the exploration and extroversian of college is epic.

but again, the schooling was not what i had expected. sure many classes were difficult, but if going to most of the classes and then cramming two (actually usually one) day before the test can get you an A or a B . . well . . what does that tell you . .

any tom dick and harry can get a ba or a bs. even from my college. it's a flipping joke.

the best time of our lives is the biggest joke of our lives.

sarcasm for the gods

in the last blog i made mention of my prior coping mechanism of running, of detachment, of a security blanket.

nowadays, it has become more and more easy for me to look things square in the eye. I think the threat of the rest of my life has hit me . . the threat that the rest of my life is at my doorstep and if i don't grow up, im going to have a shitty life. i'm going to be unhappy, passive aggressive, and aimless in the world.

for all the perfectionistic tendencies in me . . . all the "if it's not perfect, then it's not worth doing," go against my logical thoughts that include "it doesn't matter if it's not perfect, the act of doing is worth more than idealist perfection." perfection may or may not exist. if perfection is relative than it is everywhere, all the time, but only relatively. if it is not relative, by definition, and utopian, than it clearly doesn't exist. unless utopia is relative. :) and round and round we go.

theres some garbar in my stomach.

so advice to myself: don't run. eat better so there's less garbar. stop seeking something that doesn't exist. be real. have faith in myself at all times. find my bliss. try to do more things on my "things to do before I die." get people to stop talking in my office while I'm trying to blog. FRICK . .shut uppp and gett outttt . . . too bad they can't here my thoughts . . maybe i should be passive aggressive. hah.

sarcasm for the gods.