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Enough Already
I'm feeling quite dispirited due to my lack of attention paid to my website as of late. Though it may be argued simply, that nothing much has really been going on lately, it cannot be said that anything much ever goes on, ever. Conclusion: just write for write's sake. You've done it in the past, and it seemed to work just fine. Moreover, it makes for decent reading in the future.
Today was freckled with the accomplishment of respectable, responsible tasks — but for the most part I just frittered away valuable hours on the Internet. WVFS.NET has come along nicely since its inception back in July, as well it should given the obscene amount of time I spend on it each week. Today was an obnoxious example of that — altogether maybe six hours spent fiddling with CSS alone, culminating in a number of "improvements" that few will notice, and less will ever comment on. I do it for the people, sure, but it ultimately amounts to self-gratification: it feels worthwhile, it's what I like to do, it is private. And relaxing in its repetition.
Have I been studying Precalculus like I should? No I haven't. Bought the book and everything, but it's just so fucking tiring — I can actually feel my head starting to swell and feel heavy. Shit. All other classes are great in the going… could be much worse.
Enjoyed lengthy conversations with Aaron tonight at All-Saints. I haven't really ever had the chance to interact with him much — "incredibly nice guy" is the impression I'm left with. Soft-spoken and reserved, thoughtful, earnest.
All in all, today must be given high marks, if for no other reason than because it marked a rare occasion where I actually followed through with one of my implausible schemes that predominantly fail to make the leap from the realm of discussion to that of action. I am talking, of course, about contacting Alexyss Tylor for the purpose of persuading her to record a legal ID for the radio station. I asked, she replied, I replied back, and she asked me to give her a call. The prospects are looking fair at this point, which is something to be delighted about!
edison elementary school
The school that I attended during the 1st and 2nd grades while still living in Danville, Illinois.
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Days 1 - 2
This is the infamous "nut roll" from Royal Donut. 
So far I have consumed three of these. They're big. This is me watching a Law & Order mini-marathon on TNT. 
Once 6pm rolls around, there's not much to do around here unless you have friends or something.
Much of Tuesday and Wednesday were spent getting reacquainted with the city, trying to find my way around. All in all, I did fairly well and did manage to navigate to most of the locations on my list of PLACES TO SEE.
On Wednesday I visited East Park, the elementary school I attended from grades 3 through 5. In third grade I won a school-wide art contest to design the school's new mascot Before the start of the contest, the principal had decided that the new mascot would bear the name "Eddie." My design — a two-dimensional representation of the front of the building, with a half-circle shaped head protruding from the top, one arm protruding from each side, and two legs coming out of the bottom — was selected as the winner by a committee of judges made up of teachers and administrators. A Google Image search for 'eddie east park' yields no resulting images of my design, though I do have copies of my drawing and will likely post it here when I return home from my trip. as it had recently made the switch from middle school to elementary school. I was eager to see if the mascot I designed was still being used — sadly it is not, the nickname having since been changed to the Rockets, with a new mascot resembling a Clip Art image of a rocket. I must admit, however, that I can understand why the switch was made. First of all, it only makes sense for your mascot to resemble the nickname of your school's sports teams, and being called the "East Park Eddies" is rather gimpy. I suppose they could have decided to go the route of some schools, whose mascot is not a clear indicator of the teams' nickname The University of Miami, for example, are known as the Hurricanes, but their mascot is Sebastian the Ibis. but this leads me straight into my second point: there is hardly anything fierce about a personified building smiling and waving at you.
Seeing as though all the schools in this town are closed for summer break, I was lucky enough to visit the school at a time of the day when custodial staff were present, thus allowing me access to the inside of the building. I snapped a few pictures, both inside and out, which you may see here.
east park elementary school
The school that I attended during the 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades while still living in Danville, Illinois.
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i'm sorry
What a horrible day. I'm not even supposed to be working the graveyard shift anymore, what with classes back in session and all. And I gave them 2 months notice! Two months! Some scheduling emergency involving the full-time night auditor and the part-time one (my replacement), along with the fact that I'm a complete push-over… and here I am again. 6 in the morning, running on some sort of superhuman fuel and pints of coffee. I have classes today from 10am until 2pm and I simply don't know how I am going to accomplish this. Plus, there is some karaoke thing at the Club Downunder tonight, and Amy called and told me about it, completely sparking my interest. When will the sleep come? This, of course, is not the worst of it.
The worst of it is this hurricane. We have a lot of evacuees from affected Gulf Coast areas staying at our hotel presently, and it's just so very saddening. These people, they stand in front of me and they talk to me and I talk back to them, and I just feel so many emotions. I feel great sorrow when I think of their position, not knowing if they have a home to return to, some of them knowing full well that they don't. And I smile at them, but it's not enough. I run disgusting charges to their credit cards, charges to pay for the rooms that they are staying in, and it just gives me an incredulously evil feeling inside. Like they shouldn't have to pay for anything. But we don't live in that type of world. Not even close.
My visit to Naples was strange. I felt uncomfortable being there. Seeing my family was very good, but it didn't change the uneasy feeling. Once I returned to Tallahassee the tension disappeared. There is a comfort here, though I don't know where it comes from.
I saw some friends, too, in Naples. Everyone has changed. So have I. Inevitable, I suppose.
Winter.
Winter is here.
And with it come the typical changes inside.
I haven't been able to make complete sense out of it, to understand why I start feeling like this. Awful memories begin to flood back, and I catch myself longing for days long gone. My dreams are long, intricate, dramatic stories made of bits and pieces of the past; stories that are difficult to think about and best forgotten. It seems to me, emotionally, that yesterday was always better than today. That last year is always better than this year, and so on. On closer inspection, it is obvious that this is not true. While elements of 2004 have been awfully sad, overall I have to admit that it has been a good year compared to most others. I am in Tallahassee, enrolled in school, making a nice dollar at my job, giving to V89 and receiving so much more than I can say (no, I'm not stealing from catalog.. geesh). I have Amy closeby, and I love her dearly. Five months from now will mark the 10-year anniversary of the day we first met. She has enriched my life in important ways that no one else has before or since.
Finances are in order. I am succeeding in school, as my grades would prove to me. Socially, I'm still an oaf. I try to make bonds with people, I want so badly to succeed with this, but I find myself still very frustrated. Blame lies nowhere, though I see the obstacles posed by myself, by others and by sheer circumstance. That I can see this clearly is an accomplishment in itself, I imagine. I simply need to escape the house more, and when I'm out there, I need to say more and listen more.
So why then do I find myself so crushed by this season?
If I were asked, I would tell you that winter is my favorite time of the year. I suppose I love the weather the most. I love it because it matches more closely this feeling that rules my life. It is a Joy Division song, or a Sigur Ros song, or something from the new, amazing Julian Fane album, Special Forces. It is not cold, for cold does not exist. It is a lack of heat, of warmth, of brethren, of affection. It is empty. It is dark. It is often painful. Yes, I feel these things in the winter, and the winter mirrors me. The same feelings are evident always, at all other times of the year. Perhaps winter makes it okay for these emotions to thrive and sustain themselves, more so than, say, the summer does.
In winter, I am reminded of all who have disappeared. I am reminded of the ones who ran away, the ones who I pushed away, and the ones who just had to go. I am reminded of low organ keys held for long measures. Of "processions moving slowly." I think about good times with people who are nowhere to be found. Sometimes I try to go out and live amongst others, or to invite them into my room, to drink, to laugh, to be wild and crazy. It seldom works. Because all I really want when I feel like this, at this time of year, is to be alone, without interference and surprise. Without spontaneity or interruption.
Because it is familiar, I suppose.
Fall Semester grades
3 A's and 1 B.
The B should've been an A.
blarrg.
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In other news, apparently Eminem has sampled Martika's "Toy Soldiers" in a new song & video. Do I love this man?
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