Philotic Web

Hey... hey there 3nder, hey... Hey, how about... instead of desiring to kill people who teased you, maybe you should like, I dunno, get over it? Move on? Be good at math and science and have a successful career and watch them wallow in obscurity while you go on to find a cure for people who have emo murderous urges?

Yea, that'd be nice, wouldn't it? Yea...

Yeah, seriously, it worked for me. Well, not really math and science, but the finding a cure for people who have emo murderous rages is sort of a piece of it. Anyhow.

Living well is the best revenge. Particularly when the ones you're living well to revenge against are still working in Wal-Mart in the s***** little town you left in the dust.

...i was good at math and science and i get told i need an outlet...

http://www.cemetech.net

its a party of us nerdy types. Come on over.

People I went to school with are primary teachers, working at the same school we all went to. I'm in England getting my doctorate.*


* No slam on elementary school teachers, I promise. But going back to your own to teach? Come on, people, live a little!

I read his journal. I wish I hadn't.

I'd just like to throw out, for all you ambitious members, that people measure success differently and maybe it's best we keep the definitions (which have included geographical location, place of employ, or level of degrees) more open than have been put forth so far.*

Working at WalMart is an honest job, and for some, all that they can or want to manage.

Likewise, working at the Jr. High I attended as a student was in no way holding me back from living a happy life. It allowed me opportunity to travel, meet wonderful young adults, attend concerts, see movies I wanted to see, etc.

Having well educated members here is fascinating and enjoyable and I'm sure you'll go on to many great things, but keep in mind, there are some here who don't have college degrees and may never get one and they are equally fascinating and enjoyable, and more importantly, happy with their life.

Lastly, living in the town you grew up in -while it's not for everyone- is hardly a necessarily bad thing. I mean this for even the smallest of towns.

All I have to say to the ever emo 3nder is that the best revenge is to go off and be happy with his life, and yes, even successful, however it is that he defines it. Different strokes for different folks.




*I'd like to think I know you all better than to peg those posts as petty or small-minded, or anything outside of being drawn from personal experiences that may have been less than ideal.

Yeah, I know. And, honestly, I believe that. I don't generally look down on people for any of those reasons, nor do I believe someone's life has more or less value due to the job they have. (My parents used to take food stamps, my dad was working the graveyard shift at minimart before we moved to Texas from North Dakota -- whicn, I might add, are not exactly hotspot locals for me to be snobby regarding geographic locations, I have developmentally disabled relatives, and I went through a fun and happy time where I could barely manage working at 7-11).

So, no, I don't actually believe that I'm better inherently than the vast majority of people for any of the above listed reasons or that any of those things defines a life as more or less good, valuable, etc.

Except for the f****** bastards who made my high school and junior high years literally a living hell in that s*** town I was forced to reside in for far too many years, may it be the first to burn when the apocalypse comes and the zombies take over.

(Kidding. Really. Mostly.)

I've got a lot of bitterness towards those people as well; and quite a few others. However, recently I've decided to take a different approach instead of getting angry.

f*** 'em.

I use my bitterness to power my own confidence. It's gotten me over a lot of things, and in my eyes, made my own life better.

Oh, so I'm a nerd 'cause I'm into math and science? f*** you, I'm smarter than you and I'm gonna go a lot farther.

Works for jealousy, too. Instead of worrying about whether your significant other's gonna cheat on you; f*** 'em. If they cheat, f*** them, it's their loss. I'll find someone else, someone better.

You think I suck at my job? f*** you, 'cause I got here on merit, and I'm damn good at what I do.

Yes, I do use that F-bomb a lot regarding those people. I refuse to rely on their opinions of me for my own self worth; and I use my anger towards my negative past experiences to motivate me to be that much better now.

It's all about direction. Everybody's life sucks sometimes. Everybody gets burned, everybody gets hurt. The difference between you and the guy doing life behind bars is just how you choose to direct your anger.

huh, I've got no bitterness towards the people I left behind in my home town, and I wish I could see some of the college prep high school group more than I have. I wasn't good friends with any of them (I still see my two best friends a couple times a year and yeah one of them is working the equivalent of a wal-mart job) but I don't hold any bitterness towards the high school population at large or my classmates. And honestly I couldn't tell you the names of anyone who wasnt' in the AP/college prep courses that I took since those comprised 80% of my high school classes. I had a hellish freshman year in a different school/city, but I don't remember a damn thing about the students there so I wouldn't even know who to be angry at. :-p Hopefully they've forgotten me just as completely.

confession: an editor brought in a canister of harry and david mint chocolates. mint + chocolate is like cocaine to me and I probably ate 10+ today. I am bad. but OMG they are sooooo f****** good!

there are some here who don't have college degrees and may never get one and they are equally fascinating and enjoyable, and more importantly, happy with their life.

Lastly, living in the town you grew up in -while it's not for everyone- is hardly a necessarily bad thing. I mean this for even the smallest of towns.

Me and me. And I wouldn't change a thing.

My dad teaches elementary. He grew up in the city I did. Probably a lot of my sentiment is directed at specific people and (a) specific school(s). Why anyone would want to go back to that dump is beyond me, even the people who made it a miserable dump.

Confession: I have two saved drafts on my email account. They're not emails. Saved drafts is the only place I could think of to save links where no one but me could see them.

That's really pathetic, especially considering the fact that (a) no one will really check what websites I go on, so I may as well have put them on favorites or something, and (b) those websites aren't anything bad. But if one really tried, one could see a common theme I wouldn't want anyone to notice. Not that anyone would bother spying on my internet usage, so I'm just being needlessly paranoid. But isn't that all I do lately?

I mostly got over my bitterness towards my classmates by the start of 9th grade, on the other hand, it's really hard not to be bitter about the frequently incompetent teaching and utterly incompetent administration that wasted most of my middle + high school years.

When I'm in the pool, I often find myself singing "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..." Usually along around 2000m, give or take 500. That's the horrible depressing wall, where you already feel like you've been swimming forever and you know you're not even halfway. A cheery little song helps.

Hey... hey there 3nder, hey... Hey, how about... instead of desiring to kill people who teased you, maybe you should like, I dunno, get over it? Move on? Be good at math and science and have a successful career and watch them wallow in obscurity while you go on to find a cure for people who have emo murderous urges?

Yea, that'd be nice, wouldn't it? Yea...

Yeah, seriously, it worked for me. Well, not really math and science, but the finding a cure for people who have emo murderous rages is sort of a piece of it. Anyhow.

Living well is the best revenge. Particularly when the ones you're living well to revenge against are still working in Wal-Mart in the s***** little town you left in the dust.

yeah i have had dreams where i have just programed the greatest game ever and i decide to go to get some hot chips and i see a whole bunch of the ****heads from school serving me the i laugh until i die, the i wake up

just 2 1/2 more terms and then they will all be gone to tafe to do some bogan course that will ern them no more than $3.50 per hour, while im still in school getting my HSC

Confession: Bloody Mary and any other spooky supernatural stories like that scare the crap out of me and I cannot watch/hear that sort of thing once it's dark or it's guaranteed I'm crawling into bed with my mom.*

Confession: Also, I have worn a cross on a necklace practically every day for the past 3 years for when I'm freaked out, by both (hopefully imagined) supernatural and real threats.

Confession: I feel like a jackass for believing even a little bit in supernatural phenomena.

*One day, a male will fill this role...or cats.

Confession: I feel like a jackass for believing even a little bit in supernatural phenomena.

Don't! I'm crazy superstitious!

Ok, not crazy, but more superstitious than I would care to admit. David is a really good sport about it 99% of the time, but sometimes it really exasperates him! Don't split the pole!

Making someone else put up with it is probably a lot better than what I do whenever I get freaked out over some stupid superstitious thing: for days or weeks glance over your shoulder, jump at small surprises and check every corner in the apartment upon entering, and then pretend that nothing's bothering you whenever they ask. It would probably be better to admit this kind of thing, maybe?

But that's what Confessions is probably for, I suppose...

confession, I used to avoid stepping on cracks because I watched Land Before Time too many times. :-p

I still do that. I make a conscious effort to not step on cracks or just in general lines on the floor.

check every corner in the apartment upon entering

I used to do that in the bathroom when I was younger...I'd enter and put my back to the closest wall (to make sure no one could get behind me), shut the door, and sneak along the wall to the shower to see that no one was in there.

Somewhat related, I still check the backseat and the storage space of vehicles I'm driving before I get in because, you know, there might be a murderer in there waiting for unsuspecting me.

As for the cracks...I stepped over them only because I was counting my steps, trying to step X amount of times in each square.


*sigh* Is there no end to my weirdness? At least I've stopped doing two of them.

confession:

there are a lot of things I've never bought, or even seriously considered buying because I figured they would come at eventual wedding showers or gifts and the like and in the meantime there was really no need for me to buy a kitchenaid stand mixer, or a stud finder, a circular saw, a router, a cordless drill etc. etc. I'll get all that stuff later, right?

It was sort of something I was vaguely aware of, but it just sort of went 'thunk' and hit me just now as I was investigating to see if my ex, genette, is registered at target since they're having, essentially, a secret wedding at midnight on the ides. no they're not registered and for a second I was annoyed, "why would you want to fore go all the awesome free s*** that getting married gets you? I can't wait til I get to cash in that option!" and then I went, "doh!" and "hmmm" at the same time and decided to post here to clear my mind. :-p


Just to clarify, for those confused. When folks get married on my mom's side of the family when the women hold the family's wedding shower, the guys hold a tool tornado downstairs and you basically get stocked for life with all kinds of useful and awesome stuff. You also get a camouflage bed set and lingerie (for her, but for him, you know;)) courtesy of my crazy Aunt Pat but hey, you win some, you lose some. I have said for years we should take this idea to Oprah and popularize it. It gives guys something to do, and means you get a more interesting variety of goodies and whatnot. and if it's in the fall, it means we can get through all the presents quickly and then return to watching football while the women take their time and play all the goofy wedding shower games/events they put on. :-p

Confession: I'm sitting here on the internet, while I'm supposed to be reading The Stranger by Albert Camus. Maybe it's just me, but the book is SO BORING..

Don't split the pole!

What?

As for the cracks...I stepped over them only because I was counting my steps, trying to step X amount of times in each square.

I do this. No confession or anything; I don't see a problem with it. I also sometimes deliberately try to make my gait style unpredictable, and other times I try walking to various variable time signatures. I've also roll-stepped sometimes, but it gets old a bit quick.

Confession: I enjoyed reading that. Even if I interpreted it the completely wrong way, I enjoyed it.

Confession: I'm sabotaging my relationship, and that doesn't bother me as much as it should.

Confession: I really am just like my mom, and I hate it.

Confession: I'm no rebel.

Confession: I'm sitting here on the internet, while I'm supposed to be reading The Stranger by Albert Camus. Maybe it's just me, but the book is SO BORING..

I surprised myself by really liking Camus. I've read The Stranger and The Plague. Although, I did not like the one short story collection I read by him. I read all of it in English, though, so I don't know if that's cheating.

After finishing The Stranger, I can say that it's not half bad, actually. It was probably just the opening that was bad.

I don't really know why I'm so embarrassed to confess this, but I am almost completely incapable of stepping on cracks while knowing that I am. I did not notice that I didn't step on them until two years ago, when someone brought it to my attention by asking why I was walking so weird. I eventually tested my ability to step on cracks and had a minor anxiety attack after forcing myself to step on them. And it isn't just cracks, either: it's the lines that things create, invisible lines covering the floor. I'll refuse to walk on the invisible line that chair legs create, extending into all direction, and step over the invisible lines that both parking meters and their shadows make.

It scares me to wonder if maybe I actually have a problem or, just, you know, am like all of the rest of you, just a little bit further.

I have been on a migraine preventative drug for 3+ years that has a side effect of slight weight loss (average of 6% of your body weight). I have no idea if this did/does contribute to my weight loss and/or lack of appetite. It is no longer working very well. My new neurologist (who I loved!) is slowly starting me on a different preventative and weaning me off the old one. The new one has a side effect of fairly significant weight GAIN (around 20%). Even thought I am verging on underweight currently, the idea of gaining any amount of weight terrifies me.

Also, I almost had a car accident today in my excitement of tracking red-tailed hawks. Not good.

Confession: sometimes.....blech. What foulness. I never want to hear or think about it again.

I don't really know why I'm so embarrassed to confess this, but I am almost completely incapable of stepping on cracks while knowing that I am. I did not notice that I didn't step on them until two years ago, when someone brought it to my attention by asking why I was walking so weird. I eventually tested my ability to step on cracks and had a minor anxiety attack after forcing myself to step on them. And it isn't just cracks, either: it's the lines that things create, invisible lines covering the floor. I'll refuse to walk on the invisible line that chair legs create, extending into all direction, and step over the invisible lines that both parking meters and their shadows make.

It scares me to wonder if maybe I actually have a problem or, just, you know, am like all of the rest of you, just a little bit further.

I can't step on cracks. My wife thinks I'm superstitious but I'm not.

I just digged my own grave. Possibly.

In the conversation we just had, I mentioned some theater groups to my mom. It was a mistake and I shouldn't have, but it seemed harmless enough at the time. She interrogated me so thoroughly, I began to suspect something was up, but I wrote it off to her natural curiosity. Even with my prejudice against it, I had to admit that that group is the best one in town (it's undeniably true).

And now... well, let's just say that the Three Degrees of Separation (in a town as small as this one, it's not six. It's no more than two or three) might go into effect in a way I've had nightmares about all winter. It's a very small chance, but still. The stakes are extremely high.

It's a good thing I'm much better now, or I'd be in my room contemplating suicide right now. Just kidding. Sort of.

I just had an argument/debate. About... Tales of Mu.

Seriously. ToM?

What is wrong with me.

I feel guilty about not living in North Dakota this winter/spring. I want to be there, both to help and to get bragging points.

I feel really guilty about it whenever I know my boyfriend is wishing he were there with his family/friends.

There is actually only a really tiny part of my that is grateful we're missing all the horrible weather. And I'm slightly ashamed of that part.

It's weird.

I don't know if this is a confession or an achievement.

Paul and I competed to try and name all 50 states last night. I got to 45, he got to 41. When we collaborated, we got to 49 and were stuck for a long time before giving up and getting the map.

Stupid Wyoming. How could we forget you?


Also, I asked at least three times: "Wait... is New England a state, or is it just what they call the area?"

Stupid Wyoming. How could we forget you?

Easy, because it doesn't really exist.