Dear Diary/Journal/Bob 3.0

[Luet]

I had a rare fight with my brother.

I gave my mom and stepfather a ride home from the hospital yesterday. He had been in the hospital in NYC for 11 days after open heart surgery. My mom said something that really upset me but I knew it was not the time or place to get into it with her. But I really needed to talk about it to someone and I knew my brother already knew about the situation, so I called him to vent. I did and explained to him that the only reason I was talking to him and not to her was because they just got home from the hospital and I didn't want to upset her (and thus my stepfather) right then. I said this multiple times.

As soon as he got off the phone with me, he called her and got into it with her about the issue. It upset her and my stepfather very much. She then called me and we settled it all. I then called him to tell him I was upset that he called her when I SAID that it was not the right time to di it. He took the attitude that I shouldn't have assumed that he knew that I didn't want him to call her. I was so frustrated, so I said "You would have to be socially retarded to not figure that out from our conversation" and he hung up on me. I called back immediately and he didn't answer but I left a voicemail apologizing. And hasn't spoken to me since. Won't answer his phone or return messages. I've spoken to his wife and she said he'll talk to me "eventually".

It's been over 24 hours and it's tearing me apart to have him upset with me. What I said was and is absolutely true, but it was mean to say. And I think the reason he is so upset is because it struck so close to home. He has been suffering from severe depression for a couple years but won't get or accept any help. None of us know what to do for him. And he is turning into someone we don't recognize and who is not a very nice person.

I miss my bubby wubby.

[Gravity Defier]

s***. My phone broke, Bob.

[Rei]

Bob,

I have some food, now. Simple food. I guess I should really eat some and then bang out seven more pages of writing.

Bleh.

~Rei

[Young Val]

Dear Bob,

Apparently I only know how to write/blog/post when I'm miserable.

Go figure.










It's absurd how happy I am these days.

[daPyr0x]

Bob,

I study. A lot.
I study television.
I study the character's lives, their interactions with (specifically new) people, and everything the tube will let me see about them.

I desperately try to figure out what it is that makes them so god damned happy. How do they have so many friends? How do they meet a pretty girl and get her phone number and have her end up not being a f****** psychopath? How do they get in to their career of choice?

What do they say to people at work that gets them invited to go get wings with the guys or to other random social events? What do they do when they get home? How is the perfect life lived?

I have this belief in the back of my mind that says that I am flawed. Something that I do, or don't do, have or lack; something is the reason that I just can't have that life that those around me seem to be so happy with. The answer that I'm not flawed, or that I'm not somehow different from the majority of society isn't satisfactory to me. There is something wrong, and because I can't very well watch how other people live their lives differently, television is my teacher.

What does it take for me to get some friends near me? What do I have to do to have some friend here in Newmarket that I can see without a week's advance planning and a half hour drive? What does it take to bring home a normal girl? She doesn't have to be gorgeous, with a tiny waist and big breasts popping out of her shirt; she just has to be a good, nice girl with some brains that I have some attraction to. What does it take to be happy with my life?

The life that I want is defined by TV. The nuclear family, where I work 9-5, making enough money to keep the bills paid and a roof over our head; come home to a wife I am very much in love with, we can live happily married alone for a few years and then spit out a couple kids, raise children, have pets...

But it's just not attainable, is it? It's idealistic and not a realistic expectation for my life. Perhaps more realistically would be me living in some dank pit the rest of my life, with an estranged child or two and an ex-wife who's happier with the guy she cheated on me with.

See, that there's just the depression letting me spiral. I'm not actually that depressed, it's just really easy to do that when you're trying to overemphasize the difference.

I want more friends. I want a girl. And I want to have some sort of setup for the rest of my life.
And I have none, and they're not exactly coming my way (with the exception of two girls that I really don't want...)

I'm scared to go back to a psychiatrist. Not only because I really can't afford going back to the same woman and it's nerve-racking to go in to try someone new at a public hospital; but like the first time, I'm scared of what they'll say. The last time I saw her she asked me "Are you really depressed?" and all I can think that means is dear lord this is the rest of my life right here. It doesn't get any better than this. And with that thought in my mind, there aren't any good places I'm going. I'm scared to try more drugs. I'm scared of feeling even moreso like I need intoxication to get me through every night like I did last time. I'm scared of being told that I'm fine, and that I just need to cope better or deal or something like that. Despite my ever-pressing desire to be 'normal', I'm scared s***** of actually being told I AM normal.

I feel like everything I do isn't really me doing anything and is just following some sort of programming. I've programmed myself to be awake around 10am, out of bed by 1230, get a shower at 1 when Teg calls, call him back and act interested, and go through the motions of working like I really care about what it is that I'm doing. Then after work, smoke up while driving circles around Newmarket, come home and sit on the PC/360/TV. I tell everyone I'm going back to school, just like I told everyone I'd have my car paid off in 2 years. I don't even really believe it'll actually happen, but I have to tell people that or they'd come to realize just how dead-end my job, my entire life right now, is. It's not that it won't happen because I don't want it to, merely because financially it won't work out; something will come up that I need to cover the cost of and I won't be able to do that while at school.

Somewhere in my mind there's the spot where I realize that I am ahead of the game in some senses. Somewhere I know that for 21 I'm doing pretty damn well, and I know that I'm a smart guy and shouldn't have any problem moving up in any new job I get. Somehow this just isn't good enough. Nothing I can do is ever good enough for me.

That's it right there. Nothing I do is ever good enough for me. This plays in turn with the thought that I don't consider myself "worth" putting a whole lot of effort in for; hence why my room is messy, but I have no problem keeping the rest of the house tidy; or why I'll never cook for myself, but if I'm with a S.O. I'll gladly spend an hour in the kitchen making something.

"When will I learn? The answer to life's problems aren't at the bottom of a bottle, they're on TV!"

--Cam

[Dr. Mobius]

It's absurd how happy I am these days.

Yay?

[Gravity Defier]

Bob,
I'm buzzed. Or drunk. I'll go with buzzed since it's a school night.

I had a very bad night, you see. What was the bad part (my soccer team lost 2-1 in the tournament qualifier after some bad calls from the ref) seems like childish complaints after what followed.

I was dropping my niece off at her home and was about to start working on a list for Santa when her idiot uncle and her mom's idiot girlfriend light up while less than a foot away from my asthmatic nieces. I, still in teacher/coach mode, tell them to take it outside. They get pissed but do it but not before my sister-in-law can get pissed and start a really huge fight with me. Really mean things get said, she shoves me around (kinda wished I got punched, though I can't tell you why) and basically, I can't explain to her that I don't care if it's her house, asthma + smoking = BAD NEWS and her daughters (my nieces) can't defend themselves, as the oldest is only 9 years old.

No, clearly, my telling her she is a dumbshit is just because I'm a stuck up bitch who wants to prove how superior I am. Can't have anything to do with my actually caring that my nieces don't suffer from second hand smoke.

I get home, sis-in-law has my niece call me crying, at which point niece says, "I heard you say you were going to take us away from my mom, if you do, I'll hate you." To hear my niece cry breaks my heart more than words can say. To know her mom put her up to that s***, knowing I was serious about call CPS if they didn't get their act together, to keep me from reporting her [did I mention one of the asthmatics has been sick for 2 weeks with respiratory problems and has been allowed by mom to run around, after coming home from school supposedly sick, without shoes or socks or pants on] was just bad. How can you use your child as a pawn?

Anyhow. Lots happened, I felt like s***. For the first time in a year, I've had alcohol. For the first time in 4 years, I'm actually full out, can't walk straight, can barely think straight drunk.

I wish I could have recorded the conversation. I'm convinced no one would side with her because she felt it was okay to do pot/drink/smoke in front of my nieces.

f***.,

I'm going now.

[Olhado_]

Dear Bob,

I am done, with what has been my first extremely challenging and extremely interesting class for my Master's. It is not my first and it is certainly not my last; but I never have had a class that I both wanted to soak up as much as I could and kill myself because it was too hard. I suppose you can say I was actually having fun.

I know I am such a nerd since I have fun at school.

Well not I have a few weeks of freedom before my next class starts.

For the record, the class was on Pattern Recognition, which is basically the introduction to machine learning and artificial intelligence.

Now I am really sounding like a nerd...a nerd with bad grammar.

[Gravity Defier]

Bob,
Official scores in hand: I passed my tests!

This helps, very slightly, to soften Thursday's events.

[Claire]

Dear Bob,
I am such a f****** idiot. As a psychology student I have to be a subject in 6 grad student's experiments for credit for my psych class. I did 5 of them and had signed up for my 6th, but I forgot about it, so I get penalized 1 credit, so now I've only got 4/6 credits. My fault for leaving it till last minute, but now I won't be able to fill all my credits. Just emailed the TA to see if I can write a paper instead. If he says its alright, I have to have the paper done by 5:00 tomorrow, and find a good relavent article for a source. All this for 2 out of 106 points, but I have to, because my grade is only a B anyway and we still have 2 tests left, and I don't want to risk it. God I wish I hadn't forgotten about that experiment yesterday.
-Claire

[Eaquae Legit]

Congrats, Alea!

[starlooker]

Dear Bob,

Well, today (thus far), I've gotten one interview and one rejection.

The rejection this moment means more to me than the interview.

I don't know. I'm depressed. And kind of worthless, today. I have stuff that I NEED to do. I don't want to move. Or think.

Also, I wish that anybody who is not an internship site would not call or email me. I get so excited and then so let down.

Excited and scared.

I hate being rejected. But, well, let's look at this:

1. A failed class
2. Procrastination tendencies
3. A "growing edge" involving being too stubborn (which would be a red flag for most sites).
4. A counseling student applying to clinical sites.
5. Average essays. Generic sounding Essay 5s.
6. Record numbers of applicants with training directors who, you know, want them to get in.

I do not stand a chance in hell this year.

[Gravity Defier]

(Thanks, Ali)

Bob,
God is laughing at me, he really is.

I got stranded at a soccer field with 14 junior high school boys. This team was not my team, I was filling in for their coach who couldn't make it...so of course the bus decides not to show.

I moved the kids from the field to a restaurant across the street since it was getting dark and cold, and I'm convinced I'll get yelled at tomorrow because of it. I did buy all whose parents took time to get there some dinner. Karma? Please?

BAH!

[neo-dragon]

Ever see the episode of the Simpsons when Homer forgets to pick up Bart from soccer practice? When I read your post I imagined you out in the rain and a car splashing you with mud as it drove by. I hope it wasn't that bad though!

[Gravity Defier]

It wasn't that bad. But some of the kids were being real jerks; girls kept passing and the guys were cat-calling. After awhile, I basically threatened castration with a dull pair of scissors if they didn't cool themselves off.

[Young Val]

Dear Bob,

I have a concussion. It's not fun.

[Rei]

Bob,

I'm fading, and I'm only at a page. I need to have six more of these written by 8am so that I may leave for my exam on time.

[BonitoDeMadrid]

Bob,

It ends in 2 days. DAMMIT.

[Luet]

Dear bob,

I've dreamed about her the last three nights. It's unusual for me to even remember my dreams, let alone to dream about the same thing night after night. But it's wearing me down. In them, we are interacting like it would be now, if we tried to reconcile and have a friendship. It's awkward but familiar and I want her to want to be with me but I also am suppressing anger for all of her choices from the past. In one of them, he was there too. I think he was playing games on the computer or something and we were just pretending he wasn't there.

Anyway, I want to go back to not remembering dreams. These emotionally draining dreams hang over me all day long. And I don't want to tell Mark because I feel like it's somehow my fault for still being so subconsciously wrapped up in it all.

[daPyr0x]

Bob,

What the f*** is wrong with people?? What in the hell makes it acceptable to anybody to come into a JOB, and part way through take a part you're supposed to be checking, and write "Ford Sucks" in paint on it? Who does that? If I happen to see the guy who did it again I'm gonna tear his f****** head out. f***. I try so hard to do my job to the best of my abilities. I was there, busting my ass, skipping all my breaks, just to make sure it got done that night. I was there keeping in control of everything else that was going on that night at all my other jobs, too. But I step away and leave 2 guys working while I have an accellerated lunch (ie. cookie and coke) and look what the f*** happens. This is f****** bullshit. It doesn't matter how f****** hard I try, some f****** douchebag can wait till my back's turned and write "Ford Sucks" on a goddamned part and there's nothing at all I can do about it. f****** pieces of s***.

I'm pissed, Bob. Really pissed. This is another reason why I'm less fond of my job than I used to be, inspectors.

Last night, we had 2 guys working at our warehouse by themselves. They've been working for us for a number of months now, so we trust them; and I had to leave to go to another plant. Anyways, I pull in the driveway at 10:30 (half hour till shift end) and see a body run in the door. Looky Looky! One of my inspectors decided he needed a cigarette; and the worst part is the other guy didn't stop him either. No, a cigarette's not the end of the world; it's just a piss off that I can't trust people to do their f****** jobs and take their breaks at proper times.

f*** I can't f****** trust anybody, can I?

[Eddie Pinz]

Dear Bob,

Life is good right now. The only problem is being about 25,000 in debt, but I'm working to correct that. Although I feel that my life can't keep going in this direction. I feel something bad coming on the horizon and I don't know if I'll be able to handle it.

P.S. Congrats on the 1000 replies Bob.

[Rei]

Dear Bob,

It's over. I even got everything handed in on time. And I'm too melancholic to care what my grades will be. All that matters is that I managed to get them in at all, despite the school's and the universe's best efforts. That alone deserves a letter grade's raise.

~Rei

[Luet]

Bob,

I just want to feel safe in my own skin
I just want to be happy again
I just want to feel deep in my own world
but I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore
On a different day if I was safe in my own skin
then I wouldn't feel so lost and so frightened
But this is today and I'm lost in my own skin.

-Dido, "Honestly OK"

[RandomMaker]

Dear Bob,
While I find the lack of resolution to the writers' strike somewhat disappointing, I think it might turn out to be a really good thing? Why? Because once there aren't good shows with episodes left, I won't be watching much (if any) TV. What does that mean? It means that I will have more time to do awesome things like read. Or study more. Or quilt.
So, sure, at first, I was frustrated, and I think I can still see why the strike is happening. But, while I'm going to miss seeing my favorite shows, I think a lot of good might come of it. Because I have so many better things I could be doing with my time.
What do you think, Bob?
Yours,
R.

[v-girl]

Dear Bob,

I want my mommy.

[Eaquae Legit]

Bob, I really don't want to go to work tonight. I'm so tired. I got sleep eventually, but I'm still tired.

Oh well. At least I still have samosa and aloo gobi.

[shadow-petra]

Bob, There's a crazed ass noreaster going on. Sucks though, cuz it's only going until midnight. People were complaining about not getting out early, but that's okay, because...





I GOT ACCEPTED INTO EMERSON!!!!!

[Young Val]

congratulations!

[shadow-petra]

Hehe thanks!

[anonshadow]

Dear Bob,

No elephant today. My roommate and I gave a hearty cheer. A bit of an elephant two days ago, though--oh, well.

[Rei]

Bob,

My new computer is here! And I'm posting from it!

~Rei

[powerfulcheese04]

Hey Bob,

So, this semester I took a class called "Austen Only" where we only read Jane Austen books and watched at least 1 filmic adaptation for all of them (except Northanger Abbey. We didn't watch that one. I'm still upset about the ending of Persuasion, actually. KISSING ON THE STREET?!?! FOLLOWED BY A FREAKING CIRCUS?!? WTF! Seriously. WTF.)

Anyway, back to the point of this rant...

I'm writing a paper for this class. 10-15 pages (which is a ridiculously large range. I'm aiming for the 15 page side of the range.) We got to pick our own topics and I thought I'd be smart and pick something that I'd sort of talked about in class that she said would be a great one for me to write my final paper about.

So, in Freudian theory, there's this semiotic diad where mother and baby are bonded so closely baby isn't sure where it starts and mommy begins. With boys, dad challenges this diad, baby identifies with dad (due to penis-having), baby breaks diad, baby gets all Oedipal and crap (this then leads to what literary folk call the heterosexualization plot). However, since girls don't have penises, girl baby can't identify with dad. So, how does it break the diad and heterosexualize? According to Freud, by some kind of violent dis-identification with the mother ("I HATE HER!"), or, as I posited (because we were reading P&P) by identifying with an aunt. "*gasp*" says prof, "you should write about that."

So, I am. Mostly.

I'm writing about the avuncular role in 19th century literature but especially Jane Austen's P&P and Mansfield Park. I'm positing that the traditional avuncular function can be a plot device ("Oh look! Money! From my dead uncle in India! Rock!") or as a device to encourage a girl's psychosexual development (Breaking Fanny's diad by removing her from her mother to MP at age 10.) I'm then positing that the avuncular function does not adequately describe the role of the aunt... so I'm making up a new term-- tantular.

Anyway, apparently the only people who write about the avuncular function are queer theorists. Which is fine. It's an interesting field, but JA didn't really write about queer people. She just didn't. I'm sorry. But, that means that very little of the articles I'm reading actually applies directly to my paper. However, maybe that means the prof will be impressed at my extension and application skills?

Anyway, rargh.

I'm currently at the tippy-top of page 12 with a conclusion to write.

[Dr. Mobius]

Bob,

My new computer is here! And I'm posting from it!

~Rei

You know the drill.

[Young Val]

Hey Bob,

So, this semester I took a class called "Austen Only" where we only read Jane Austen books and watched at least 1 filmic adaptation for all of them (except Northanger Abbey. We didn't watch that one. I'm still upset about the ending of Persuasion, actually. KISSING ON THE STREET?!?! FOLLOWED BY A FREAKING CIRCUS?!? WTF! Seriously. WTF.)

Anyway, back to the point of this rant...

I'm writing a paper for this class. 10-15 pages (which is a ridiculously large range. I'm aiming for the 15 page side of the range.) We got to pick our own topics and I thought I'd be smart and pick something that I'd sort of talked about in class that she said would be a great one for me to write my final paper about.

So, in Freudian theory, there's this semiotic diad where mother and baby are bonded so closely baby isn't sure where it starts and mommy begins. With boys, dad challenges this diad, baby identifies with dad (due to penis-having), baby breaks diad, baby gets all Oedipal and crap (this then leads to what literary folk call the heterosexualization plot). However, since girls don't have penises, girl baby can't identify with dad. So, how does it break the diad and heterosexualize? According to Freud, by some kind of violent dis-identification with the mother ("I HATE HER!"), or, as I posited (because we were reading P&P) by identifying with an aunt. "*gasp*" says prof, "you should write about that."

So, I am. Mostly.

I'm writing about the avuncular role in 19th century literature but especially Jane Austen's P&P and Mansfield Park. I'm positing that the traditional avuncular function can be a plot device ("Oh look! Money! From my dead uncle in India! Rock!") or as a device to encourage a girl's psychosexual development (Breaking Fanny's diad by removing her from her mother to MP at age 10.) I'm then positing that the avuncular function does not adequately describe the role of the aunt... so I'm making up a new term-- tantular.

Anyway, apparently the only people who write about the avuncular function are queer theorists. Which is fine. It's an interesting field, but JA didn't really write about queer people. She just didn't. I'm sorry. But, that means that very little of the articles I'm reading actually applies directly to my paper. However, maybe that means the prof will be impressed at my extension and application skills?

Anyway, rargh.

I'm currently at the tippy-top of page 12 with a conclusion to write.

Kimmie, I adore you.

[Oliver Dale]

Hey Bob,

So, this semester I took a class called "Austen Only" where we only read Jane Austen books and watched at least 1 filmic adaptation for all of them (except Northanger Abbey. We didn't watch that one. I'm still upset about the ending of Persuasion, actually. KISSING ON THE STREET?!?! FOLLOWED BY A FREAKING CIRCUS?!? WTF! Seriously. WTF.)

Anyway, back to the point of this rant...

I'm writing a paper for this class. 10-15 pages (which is a ridiculously large range. I'm aiming for the 15 page side of the range.) We got to pick our own topics and I thought I'd be smart and pick something that I'd sort of talked about in class that she said would be a great one for me to write my final paper about.

So, in Freudian theory, there's this semiotic diad where mother and baby are bonded so closely baby isn't sure where it starts and mommy begins. With boys, dad challenges this diad, baby identifies with dad (due to penis-having), baby breaks diad, baby gets all Oedipal and crap (this then leads to what literary folk call the heterosexualization plot). However, since girls don't have penises, girl baby can't identify with dad. So, how does it break the diad and heterosexualize? According to Freud, by some kind of violent dis-identification with the mother ("I HATE HER!"), or, as I posited (because we were reading P&P) by identifying with an aunt. "*gasp*" says prof, "you should write about that."

So, I am. Mostly.

I'm writing about the avuncular role in 19th century literature but especially Jane Austen's P&P and Mansfield Park. I'm positing that the traditional avuncular function can be a plot device ("Oh look! Money! From my dead uncle in India! Rock!") or as a device to encourage a girl's psychosexual development (Breaking Fanny's diad by removing her from her mother to MP at age 10.) I'm then positing that the avuncular function does not adequately describe the role of the aunt... so I'm making up a new term-- tantular.

Anyway, apparently the only people who write about the avuncular function are queer theorists. Which is fine. It's an interesting field, but JA didn't really write about queer people. She just didn't. I'm sorry. But, that means that very little of the articles I'm reading actually applies directly to my paper. However, maybe that means the prof will be impressed at my extension and application skills?

Anyway, rargh.

I'm currently at the tippy-top of page 12 with a conclusion to write.

Kimmie, I adore you.

And I am frightened by you. I bow before your superior lit mojo.