| Bacon Bits and Lesbians |
[Nov. 27th, 2005|02:26 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  chipper | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Hot Chocolate - You Sexy Thing | ] |
One evening at work a few years ago, I was discussing my product with a coworker. I was stocking bacon bits at the moment. There are several types of bacon bits under different brand names, some claiming to be real and others labelling themselves as imitation bacon. My coworker asked me why would anyone want imitation bacon bits when they could have the same thing. I didn't know. So asked him why do lesbians go for dildos when they could have the real thing? He didn't know either.
I mean, c'mon, there are plenty of guys ready and willing to "fill" the void. And yeah, girl on girl is kinda hot, but they always end up doing something that a man is expressely built for.
I dunno. Maybe I just need to get some action. Maybe I should ask Niorah about this subject. Maybe Niorah and I should hook up ;).
Texas is a comfortably safe distance away from Italy. |
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| Escapism |
[Nov. 9th, 2005|10:52 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes | ] |
I have been very thoughtful as of late. Especially since putting up that last post of mine.
I work in the Frozen Food department at work. Now when you open a door, it frosts over. People like to write in the frost. Monday night, someone left a nice little message to me, saying "Fuck off Lance".
It bothers me. It bothers me a lot. It shouldn't, but it does. It had to be written by a coworker, or a former coworker, because they are the only people who know me. Funny thing is, I have no idea who I have offended in such a manner that they would write such an ugly message to me. So I don't know who I should leave alone or what I should fuck off about.
Usually, when something like this happens, it spurs me on to dive into my studies even more. To prove that I am not the worthless sack of shit that crap like that makes me feel like. That I am better than the scum who would write such a thing. That I have worth.
This time though, yeah, I thought those same things. And then I thought why am I thinking these things. And I realized that my studies were a form of escapism. To escape the realities of life, I dove into books.
Now those of you who know me know I am not athletically inclined. I am socially inept. I lack self-confidence. The one thing I have going for me is my intelligence. I use it as both a shield and a weapon. When something hurtful comes along, I dive into my studies like I said before. NOw as a weapon though... In some situations, I use it to batter down others, to make myself seem smarter than others, to make me feel better by making others appear to be small. Yeah I try not to do that anymore, 'cause it makes me an asshole and drives people away from me.
I guess this underlies a deeper aspect of my life. My lack of self confidence has me feeling worthless, like I am lower than low. And my ambition drives me, to prove that I am not scum, that I have worth. It is my greatest fear-failure to prove myself. Failure=weakness. Only the strong survive. Other tired cliches about lead/follow/get out of the way and other crap. But yeah, it is a great fear. That I will not succeed, that I will not improve myself, and that I really am that fat slob that kids made fun of in my youth.
I know I have posted stuff about this before at Terran, just never this deep and introspective. Stuff about how you feel like you are in the hands of fate, and that your are being carried along on a current, and if your work hard enough, you will shape that current to your own will. That you will create your own fate, your own destiny. Sometimes, I feel like if I can just overcome my own weaknesses, that I will be able to achieve anything.
I dunno if any of this makes sense. I dunno if any of you out there in computerland have ever felt this way or understand what I am trying to say either. I just needed to put some of this stuff into words. |
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| Memory is a bitch |
[Oct. 31st, 2005|10:42 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  angry | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Nine Inch Nails - Sanctified | ] |
They say scars heal. Yeah, sure. They can also bust wide open too. I had an old scar bust on me tonight.
Halloween night, 1998. My first real adult party to throw. Parents left the house, so that my guests and I could have fun without "adults" being there. So it was a pretty good evening. Dezzy showed up, and my best friend Tad, who didn't like her, said it would be okay if she were there, so I thought it was all good.
See, I had had a crush on Dezzy. She was smart, funny, sarcastic, and cute. Wonderful! She had dropped out of high school, but was going back to get her GED, she had a job, and talked about how she was getting her life back on track. She sounded so mature and so cool. I had taken her out on a couple of dates a few months earlier. Nothing ever came of it, and she officially labeled me, and I can still remember her exact words, "too fucking wierd". So okay, that hurt, but I could live with it. She hooked up with a buddy of mine, Aaron, and I thought ok.
So the evening progresses. Eventually, it is me and Dezzy sitting together on the couch with some other people in the room, watching Hellraiser 3. My hand was resting on my leg, with the back of my hand brushing her outer leg. She didn't shy away from that contact, a first for me. So I decide oh what the heck, if I make a pass at her, she'll move her leg away from me, but at least I'll have the nerve to make a pass. So I make it clear that my hand is against her thigh. Slowly I work my hand around her knee, and she still doesn't jerk her leg away from me. I was in bliss! I had never made a pass at a girl before without her rejecting me as some ugly fat freak. So I start slinding my hand up her thigh. Eventually, I start rubbing her pussy, and she spreads her legs a bit to give me better access. Holy fucking shit! I was in heaven. Then suddenly, she gets up and goes and lays down on my bed! Yes, a cute chick that I liked was on my bed! So about thirty minutes later, most of the people have left. All that is left is my friend Tad and his girl, Dezzy on my bed, and me. The only thing I was thinking about is that I was finally going to loose the 'Big V'.
So I make it to my bedroom. I go to the bathroom and clean up, and then go lay down with Dezzy. I begin working my hand around her skirt, and then she rolls over where she is facing me. We start kissing, and grinding against each other. Then I rolls us over where I am on top. She reaches down and takes my dick out of my shorts and puts it in her. WOW! SO we're going at it. I was happy. It was finally happening. I was actually having sex, and wouldn't die a lonely virgin. So we're going at it. I guess she came, but I didn't. I just know she suddenly stopped, and went to the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, she came out, looks at me and says, (another exact quote) "That was a bad thing." And then she goes out and watches TV with Tad and his girl for like an hour.
The next day, I'm beaming. I had lost the Big V! WAHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then my friend Tad shows up. He tells me that Dezzy had filed rape charges against me.
The world ended.
So I have to tell my parents that I had sex at my first party. That it was my first time. That I hadn't even kissed a girl before then. That she had filed rape charges against me. That I needed a lawyer.
Hope died.
Time passes. My relationship with my mother ends. She treats my like I am less than shit. My dreams of the future end. I had thought about teaching. What school would hire a man who had been charged with rape? I think about if I could ever find a different woman and fell in love. What woman would love a man that had been accused of rape.
Then I find out that Dezzy was 16, and I was like 20 at the time. So yeah, that made me a pedophile. Even worse. Would a school hire a guy that was accused of being a pedophile? Would a woman ever love a man accused of being a pedophile? If I went to court, and lost the case, I swore I wouldn't go to prison. I swore I'd blow my brains out.
Time passes. My relationship with my mom doesn't change one iota in like six months. When I go to the doctor for the court ordered DNA samples, all it seems she cares about is the god damned fucking dogs, and if I had fed them yet.
So eventually, I move out. I get hired on at Wal-Mart. I live with my brother. I seriously think about severing all ties with my family, moving out on my own, and just kind of disappearing.I don't
So about early October 1999 rolls around. I am consumed with memories. I had talked to my lawyer, and found out that nothing was going to come of my case. But still the memories haunted me. I was always angry. People at work, the drug dealers, convicts, etc. were scared of me. I began to drink heavily.
It got to the point where when I got home in the morning from working all night, I would drink a pitcher of screwdrivers (vodka and orange juice) every morning until passing out. On my nights off, I would drink a six pack of beer for breakfast, and go out to a bar. I would drink all night, and pass out in my car. Then I would come home, and start drinking again until I passed out. Then I'd wake up, and go to work. It got to the point where if I didn't have a beer like every two hours, the shakes would come and be severe. I could barely put merchandise on the shelf my hands would be shaking som much. My shift lead would TELL me on my breaks to go drink a beer. He knew I was going through withdrawl, and he needed me to be able to work, so he let me drink. He knew that I went out and drank a beer on my breaks, and he didn't care and didn't report me.
A good six months pass, with me drinking that much on a daily basis. I build up tolerance. So I drank even more, every day.
Eventually though, I stopped drinking.
Around 2003, I got to the point where I could believe that not all women were lying bitches. That some women were capable of being good. That all was not evil in the world.
Tonight, I got to talking about some about how I used to drink. Then I got to thinking about why I drank. And this is the anniversary of that night. So yeah, that scar busted wide open.
Oh, and a random thought...
http://www.terranbbs.net/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=1098
Add my comments from that thread, and you get a glimpse of my history. |
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| I need to be free |
[Oct. 5th, 2005|12:04 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | contemplative | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Headhunter by Front 242 | ] |
I have been with Wal-Mart six years, one month, and two days. It is, in large measure, the whole of my knowledge of the working world. With this in mind, I've told mysel to consider management with the company, after I finish my degrees. I like the people I work with, but I don't care for the work itself. I feel though like I am in a small cramped box. It is like I am trapped, and cannot move. I need to free myself. Like a coat that you've outgrown, if I stretch or reach for more than what I am right now in the company, something is going to rip and tear. That something will be me.
I need to find a release. I need to spread my wings and be free. |
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| I don't belong there |
[Sep. 26th, 2005|10:37 pm] |
A dream I had this morning...
I was walking along the road around my parents place, when I saw a couple of women going through our garbage. I walk over to them, and realize it is a couple of women I work with. I politely ask them to stop, that they shouldn't be going through our trash. One woman starts talking nasty to me, calling me all sorts of names, and then picks up the big trash barrel and dumps it over my head. Then I see a bunch of black men that I worked with in another store. They all start laughing at me. The woman who dumped the trash on me is just laughing her ass off.
I tell them to just go away, to leave me alone. The black men then surround me, and grab my arms and such where I cannot move or get away or anything. One guy speaks up and says, "There he is, 'Lance the fool. We always called him that. Lance the fool." And then one guy whips out a knife, and starts running the edge along my face and all over my body. He's not cutting me or anything, just scarying me. I piss myself in fright, and start whimpering/crying. Everyone just laughs all the harder at that. Then I finally pass out.
I come to, covered in trash, in the ditch by the road. I get up and pick up the trash, sobbing to myself. I go up to my parents house, and take a shower, crying to myself.
The next day, I go to work at my regular Wal-Mart. Everywhere I go, I hear people sniggering at me, and I see people staring at me. I even see people whispering to each other and pointing at me, trying to be subtle about it. The whole store, except for one guy is doing this. I go talk to the store manager about it. He says he can keep them from doing things to me in the store. I ask about my car, because his authority only extends to the store, the parking lot is completely different. I ask what can I do about it outside of the store-since I know they'll do crap to me and my car. He says his hands are tied.
So I quit Wal-Mart. I go home. I put a gate across the driveway. I fix all the fences. I plant a garden. I put surveilence cameras everwhere I think someone my try to cross my gates or fences. I buy a shotgun. I dig tunnels to hide in. I decide to never leave the property again-living off the land/garden, watching for someone to try and cross my fences.
A few days after I quit, I see the woman who dumped the trash on me come back to my driveway driving a four-wheeler, looking at my gate and eyeing my trash. I (from quite a distance away) shoot the ground beside her, sending a small spray of gravel up by her. Then I shoot a tire on her four wheeler. She jumps on it, and drives off.
Then I wake up.
And the really weird thing is that for the most part, the people in my dream, even the black guy who called me 'Lance the fool' I consider if not friends, then friendly aquaintences. |
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| Argh |
[Sep. 25th, 2005|05:40 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | complacent | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Calling out to Carol by Stan Ridgeway | ] |
Sometimes, I really enjoy my job. And then there there was this weekend. Nothing really bad happened, it just seemed like I was crazy busy busting tail all day, and it didn't look like I did a darn thing! I hate that feeling!
On the other hand, I did get to see the awesomely cute cashier yesterday. She's named Charlotte. Now, if I could ever catch her in the breakroom and strike up a conversation... -Very droolworthy-
And I really wish homework papers, especially the long boring ones would write themselves. I should be working on a paper now, instead of procrastinating. :(
Anyways.... |
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| I wonder.... |
[Sep. 21st, 2005|11:44 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | annoyed | ] |
| [ | music |
| | 16 Tons, by Tennesse Ernie Ford | ] |
As I left work tonight, I found a little note stuffed in the book I am reading for class. It was from Angela, saying she had been thinking about me a lot and wanted to talk to me again.
I wish she'd take the hint that I'm not interested in her or talking to her. I wonder how she'd react if I told her I was thinking about her when I popped a zit on my ass. That might just do the trick.
I hope this doesn't turn into some sort of fatal attraction freaky stalker shit.
I've got a quiz tomorrow on some readings I've been doing. Sure hope I do ok on it! |
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| Her |
[Sep. 19th, 2005|11:22 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | complacent | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Styx - Mr. Roboto | ] |
So I talked to Angela tonight. I told her it wasn't fair to her for us to try to persue whatever. Started talking about how I might have some free time in December, maybe. I was nice and tried to put up a good front. I didn't tell her that she bored me. I told her that I wanted to forget that it ever happened. She said she didn't. She wants me to come live with her. I must have had some sort of impact upon her. Either I discount myself way too much, or she's extremely desparate. I mean, it was just one night, and now she want me to move in with her?
Ah well, tomorrow is another day.
Oh, and completely on another topic, I saw the coolest thing Tuesday! A Star Wars Chess Set. I was practically making a puddle of drool standing in front of it. Let's see, I have one chess set that is crystal and is traditionally shapped pieces, and one pewter set of fantasy creatures, such as unicorns and dragons. Yeah, I might break down and buy that Star Wars Chess set.
Oh, and I'm seriously thinking about having Sunday afternoons with my niece-if her parents will let me. I know she is only 5, yet I truly believe she should be further along academically. Also, I have a serious lack of faith in the local public school to provide a quality education.
Oh, and is anyone reading this? Anyone at all? Hey Terraners, send me a PM or make a comment or something to let me know if you are reading this-PLEASE. |
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| Morning |
[Sep. 19th, 2005|09:07 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  bouncy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Brasil sung by Rosemary Clooney and Bing Crosby | ] |
Morning has come. It has brought its children, Headache Jr. and Dread of Work. At least Mom and Dad are off today, and I got a good breakfast. It's going to be weird when they retire. And so now, instead of spending more time on the computer, I should be reading my homework stuff. |
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