Life's Pursiut

Complaining about my life is a waste of words. Things have happened that were fucked up, to put it bluntly. But for the most part, I must take responsibility for the choices I’ve made. For example, I chose to go to school. I chose to study a subject matter that in not in my native language. I chose to take 19 credit hours during the summer. Therefore, it is a waste for me to complain that I am busy with school. And it is true, I am busy with school, but to state this in hopes of sympathy really isn’t fair.

But I’m off for a week, so you won’t have to listen to my belly aches.

And I won’t get upset that a bum took a shit next to my car. It will just be motivation for me to leave town.

And I won’t be disgusted when I swallow a bug on my scooter…at least I have a scooter to ride. And besides, it tasted kind of sweet, like pollen.

And I especially won’t cry when I drop my Amy’s organic vegan meatloaf frozen dinner all over the kitchen floor. I’ll just scrape up what I can because there’s no one around to see me do this. I’ll pull out the hair and continue eating. Its my hair after all. I do live alone. Who else’s would it be? I’ll plop down on my couch and enjoy my dirt encrusted TV dinner while I watch the “The Royal Tenenbaums” for the hundredth time.

I’m saving up my strength.

Tomorrow I plan on taking over the world. First I will see my dad. This will give me purpose and motivation. Next I will face my greatest fear: loneliness. I plan on spending one night in the woods without a tent all by myself. If I survive this will give me confidence. If I fail, I’ll never complain again. Maybe this will be my last post ever. Years from now some helpless web surfer will stumble upon my blog. And the last thing written will be this…

And he or she will wonder…”Did she make it alone in the woods? Was she attacked by a wild animal? Or has she begun her plans to take over the world?”

But before all that, I should clarify. By the world, I mean Colorado. I am 26, single, and have no kids. I am going to graduate from school in less than 6 months. One might say I am beginning to “grow my wings.” What a waste to stay in the same rut. Just like complaining about the things I can change. Why not L.A. or NYC? Don’t worry. My associates are already covering those bases. Needless to say, the take over is a life long pursuit. But I really don’t have much to loose.

Don’t wish me luck. Luck is for the unprepared.


“When one man, for whatever reason, has the opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself.” – Jacques-Yves Coustea

I have test anxiety.

When will this end?
I have never failed a test, and yet I get anxiety EVERY TIME!!!

Okay. I failed a test once...the MCAT. But that's not really pass or fail. Its more your scores kick ass or your scores suck.

My scores sucked.

But that turned out okay because, according to my physics professor, I would never have made it in medical school anyway.

So how shall I cope?

I think I'll get drunk and naked.

Well maybe not drunk. I'm a sloppy drunk.

Okay.

I'm too shy to take my clothes off, so I probably won't be getting naked either.

Maybe I'll just write a post about my test anxiety and include a pucture of some hot chick vomiting in a bull's eye.

Brief Confessions

I change my clothes, on average, three times a day.

Even though I am in the final stretch of my Master's Degree, I still cram for tests that I think are unimportant. I only studied 15 min. for the test I have today.

Sometimes I day dream about living in a small mid-western town just so I can experience a different side of life away from this scene, away from everything and everyone.

I have too much on my plate. But if I stop eating I’ll be sick.

When people ask me "how's your dad?" I always say, "good."

If I ever do time

If you get a tattoo in prison, its advised not to get an MRI. It has something to do with the metal used to administer the ink into your skin.

If I ever go to prison and have a chance to get a tattoo, it will say something like this:

I got this tattoo in prison: please don’t give me an MRI!!!

I’m thinking somewhere on my chest.

6/6/06 was lame... but 6/9/06 kicked ass!

Because I’ve been looking forward to this show since March when Johnny DJ told me they were coming…

Since I paid ten dollars to get in…and not Dave nor Nick nor Sasha nor Anne wanted to join me…

Steph came along with her broken scapula, collar bone and ribs, but politely excused herself in the middle of the show…

None the less... Matt Fox said they were artsy!
And I think he had a good time.

6/9/06 was a good day.
I had breakfast with an extreme mountain biker.
I swam with a German.
I attended a business meeting about a web site.
I spent too much money on records.
I looked at “art.”
I rocked out with the Danielson Family.