Thursday, September 23, 2010

DEPRESSION

Depression is a motherfucker.  I have always known I was prone to changing moods, being a relatively emotional and sensitive person, (despite my thick skin and verbal lashings) but this is bullshit.  Things shouldn't be so difficult.  I really don't have much to complain about.  I am also not dealing with it as I know how. I genuinely care about people and their feelings, yet I choose to make light of the various pains and tribulations life throws one's way.  That's how I deal with things. 
Lately however, I can't seem to find humor or joy in this rut that has become my life.  Each day has been bleeding into the next one and I couldn't care less whether its Tuesday or Friday.  I know tomorrow will be the same. I have also recognized an apathy in me I have never felt before.  I just don't give a fuck.  I don't even know why, but I feel as though I am willingly taking a sideline approach to my existence yet I don't even care about getting into the game.
This is all somewhat ironic given the fact I have made an effort at getting out there and doing more with myself in social, economic and artistic manner.  Other than not auditioning for shit like I should, I am doing exactly what I set out to do in this period of my life.  Why do I feel so empty sometimes? 
I recognize these are "normal" feelings and that everyone experiences ups and downs, yet I wonder if mine are more radical than most.  Some days (like today) it is a straight up STRUGGLE to even get out of bed in the morning, and it isn't because I want to sleep in.  It almost physically hurts sometimes.
I feel as though I am bitching and whining about nothing in particular, yet I know some of you out there have similar experiences which reminds me that as human beings, we have been blessed with such a wide range of emotions that allow us to love, hate and cry over every day happenings.  In this we are separated from the other animals.  Sometimes, however I wish I was a dog.
Speaking of dogs, it seems lately I have been obsessed with getting one.  Perhaps its the perpetual loneliness, isolation or basic lack of interest in people that drives this desire.  Maybe I just want an excuse to go on more walks with another being. While I normally have no issues with company, I haven't been connecting with most people the way I am accustomed to which leaves me with a vacant, lonely feeling I can't seem to shake.  It doesn't help that I don't really let that many people in. 
I have also had this nagging hamstring injury that doesn't allow me to play soccer or have any other physical outlet besides sex which almost always comes with strings and bullshit attached. 
Maybe I am simply emotionally unavailable...?
Now comes the anger.  Anger with myself for being such a whiny bitch.  Anger with my shitty, apathetic, self indulging, self important, meow meow attitude..  Anger with the fact that I know I am spoiled and have many natural gifts and talents yet I still find a reason to be unhappy.  Anger for having been rejected by someone I fell in love with.  Anger for allowing myself to have fallen in the first place.
After finding out Roberta died this weekend I try to remind myself how lucky I am but then become sick and tired of the self generated reminders.
I am also sick and tired of having such self defeating dialogues with myself:
"I fucking miss C so badly.  She isn't coming back.  You fucked up- again.  She doesn't love you and she never did.  Stop drinking, you fucking drunk.  Stop smoking so much pot.  Be fucking normal you punk ass, spoiled little brat.  You are a shitty brother, shitty son and a shitty friend.  You haven't accomplished shit in life.  No wonder your career isn't going anywhere, you lazy bastard.  No wonder she left."
And that's just the start- a bottle of Jameson later and these seem like compliments. 
Anyways, there really isn't any point in reading this self- loathing, pathetic, "poor me" rambling and if you have managed to get through this I can only imagine its because you feel better about yourself.  You should anyways.  Be thankful you aren't me. 
At the same time, I know tomorrow is another day and I genuinely do like myself most days.  This is just what being human is all about.  Without these moments, true bliss and happiness aren't appreciated and embraced, rather flippantly tossed to the side for another day.
I will be fine, after all.  

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Donald, "Billet Clit" and an asshole.

Today's conversation with Donald was very entertaining.  If you don't know who Donald is, I suggest you refer to previous posts to get an idea. 
I walk into our lounge to find Donald munching on a half eaten bag of crackers as usual.  Every day he eats half a bag of crackers, shoveling them into his mouth repeatedly but making sure to wipe his mouth incessantly, even in places that could not have come close to his cracker.  He finishes half the newly opened bag and then hastily shoves them in the garbage as if infectious.  I have yet to ask him why he wastes half a bag of crackers a day.  Maybe I don't want to know.
Anyways, I ask him what's new and I get some incomprehensible garble about Jerry Brown and Meg Whitman and how Jerry got involved in some sex scandal years ago, claiming to have banged "that woman Monica Lewkisky" along with "The Bill".  (I love the way he refers to Bill Clinton as The Bill, BillClin, and Billet Clit, my favorite)  To be honest, I still have no clue what he was talking about, nor did I discern what the actual story was about, but I am sure I will find out in the news.  I had to write about his excited, jumbled interpretation first.  He went on to talk about how he loved Bill Clinton and about how Chelsea is getting married, Sarah Palin is a 'hot but idiot' woman, and Bristol is undoubtedly having sex despite her campaign promoting abstinence while wearing a hooker's uniform while dancing.
Next came MTV of course.  I asked him if he saw the VMA's this weekend, which of course he did.  Apparently his favorite part was when Gaga won her award for best video of the year and how much he loved her "Arab" outfit.  He didn't like the meat dress though because he said the amount of bacteria on that thing must have been "astronomical"- leave it up to a scientist to consider microbes and food borne illnesses in regards to "fashion statements".
Then he went on to say that this year's awards were "spicy" and "very nasty" because "that Chelsea Handler was a dirty, dirty woman".  He asked me if she was a singer or something and I informed him that she was a comedian with her own show who leaked a sex tape of herself years ago in an apparent attempt at promoting her stand up career.  I have yet to see the whole thing, but I get the joke if she did it the way I imagine she would- good one, Chelsea.  Nice tits, too.
Anyways, Donald began describing her "nasty" jokes by saying she kept on talking about penises and vaginas and that at one point she even joked about "looking inside vaginas" which was clearly very groundbreaking to him because he whispered in hushed tones while telling me about this and then quickly retreating into a fake conversation when someone else came in the room.  I could hardly contain myself.
He is especially guarded when women come in the room, and I imagine in his world, discussing these things with a woman is purely off limits.  He seems to be extremely traditional and old school when it comes to women, which causes me to avoid conversations about women and relationships.  I would simply rather be entertained by his mannerisms and interpretations of pop culture than hear about him smacking his wife upside the head with wooden spoons or something. 
He usually doesn't ask me much about my life, but today he asked me why I didn't have a girlfriend and I told him I guess I didn't know.  I just didn't, and that's how things are sometimes, right?  He stared down into the ground and lamented "No, for me, I have either been very lonely or crowded with the woman."  Ouch.
He went on to remind me that marriage only ruins relationships and that at 31, I was way too young to get married.  I'm not sure what world he is living in, but I do agree with some, albeit very few, of his views.  At this point in my life, I do not see the point in getting married.  I have no problem with commitment whatsoever, but I do think its almost the "fashionable" thing to do.   Everyone around me is getting married, and FAST.  Only a couple of them are seemingly ready, which is why I told my brother to go into family law. 
I DO however want to go out on a double date with this guy and his wife so I am thinking once I date the right woman for this endeavor, I shall invite him.  I know he will be down.
At the same time, I am not completely sure I want to see how he treats his wife, for fear that he may treat her like shit.  That can really be bothersome.
I was confronted with a similar situation this weekend with an acquaintance of mine who called me up to come over and check out some football.  I don't know that guy all that well, but its one of those "yeah hit me up" type deals where neither person actually calls the other.  Well he called, so I went over with a fresh bag of herb.  We sit down, he rolls a blunt and we start bullshitting about football, beef jerky and my obsession with getting a dog.  Just then his girlfriend comes in the front door, sweetly says hello, gives him a kiss and introduces herself to me.  She had clearly been at the store, so she goes to the kitchen, puts some shit in the fridge and asks if we need anything.  We didn't, so she pops open a beer and comes and sits next to him on the couch.  Seems like a good entrance, huh?
Apparently he didn't like this, and began making his displeasure known with uncomfortable sighs and slightly pushing her away as she inched closer.  It was clear he didn't want her around, ignoring her, talking only to me, almost even skipping her in the blunt cycle.  Soon enough I get bored with his babbling and ask her what she does, how long they've been together, etc.  Right away he starts interrupting her and finally says, "you know what, I am kicking it with my homie, why don't you go do something with yourself?"
It was obvious this wasn't the first time he had talked to her that way.
"Baby I just got home, I haven't seen you this whole weekend"
"Whatever, I'm just trying to kick it and you come up in here all loud, bothering us and shit.  I'll kick it with you later" as he turns his back to her.
She clearly looks rejected and hurt, but she gets up and goes out to the front porch to hang out alone. 
I sat there befuddled for a few more minutes wondering if it was the herb or something else that made me misconstrue the situation, but soon realized, "no, this guy is just an asshole." She seemed kind enough, attractive and was very much into him, so I couldn't imagine why he would treat her so horribly.  Had they been in a fight earlier?  Either way, no one deserves to be talked to like that, especially in front of others. In the few times I had hung out with the guy he seemed very friendly, accommodating and honest but after witnessing him treat his girlfriend with such disdain, I wanted to get as far away from him as possible.  Within two minutes of that blunt being done, I told him I "had to go see about a dog" and excused myself.  I don't think I will be hanging with him again.  In fact, now I wish I would have said something, but it probably would have just provoked him into being even shittier toward her.  Cocksucker.
I like that excuse, BTW: "I have to go see a guy about a dog".  My buddy R gave that to me and I had not used it until I finally saw a use and threw it in.  I mean really, once you say that and then dart off, who's gonna ask questions?  Its like in the movie American Psycho when he says "I have to go return some video tapes" when he needs to extricate himself from a situation.  I once told a director I had to leave rehearsal early because I had to bleach my asshole and it didn't quite work out the way I planned.  He erupted in laughter, disrupting his own scene and couldn't stop giggling until he finally stepped outside for a breath.  Needless to say, he let me leave rehearsal early.  I miss theater.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Fatties, Russians and earthquakes.

So I work with a bunch of scientists as mentioned before and today it seems they concocted some kind of nutso drug in the lab this morning and tried it out.  There's this Russian who we shall call Victoria.  This woman is relatively new, but holy shit she is loud!  Every morning she is fired up about something or another as if we were working in politics or something.  She has an extremely thick accent and is constantly excited and perplexed with the way bureaucracy works in the state, overusing adjectives like "stupid" and "nonsense" while constantly eating eggs.  I don't know what her fascination with chicken reproductive cells, but she eats them at almost every meal and worse yet, she microwaves them.  yuck. 
reminds me of a bunch of Russians I used to go to school with as a kid.  I remember these guys would beat the shit out of each other, no holds barred without any interference from authority.  For some reason, they would start fighting amongst themselves and it would be dismissed: "Oh its just the Russians fighting again."  I remember these fools would kick the shit out of each other- literally.  For some reason kicking isn't fashionable in American street fighting and we aren't used to fighting a dude who is going to start by kicking your legs.  Well one time this kid kicked another so hard in the ass, shit came out.  The kid began convulsing and flailing about on the floor as he uncontrollably shit himself in pain.
Then another time a kid who none of us liked began shouting "Fucking Russians!" as he served food in the cafeteria until one day the little fat one popped him in the mouth, causing blood to flow into the Ravioli sauce.  Quite entertaining indeed. Victoria probably went to school with these kids- in fact it wouldn't surprise me if she was the little angry fatty.
As we speak, she sits in her office eating eggs and arguing with Donald about some chemicals they just ordered. Scientists get worked up over such minor things; one tweak and their world falls apart. She has an extraordinarily large ass which seems to grow with her time here in the states.


*Whoa, I just felt an earthquake that felt as if a bomb dropped.

Speaking of large asses, I read an interesting article today about a woman who lost 100 lbs and gained a "new life" or basically perspective.  It's always been clear to me that fat people get picked on and discriminated against quite a bit, especially women.  With the body image issues pop culture produces, many women end up feeling like shit about themselves because they don't look like (insert random hot chick here).  I ask myself if I would seriously date a fat girl, and my first question is, "how fat?".  I am not quite sure what to think about this.  I never considered myself shallow but I have definitely made light of people's weight, including my own.  In theory I would never turn down someone because they were fat, but I suppose its happened countless times.  I do have to be attracted to someone, but I find humor more attractive than a perfect set of tits (just barely).  This woman pointed out that usually fat people are funny in order to create effective walls. I mean really, fat jokes are pretty funny sometimes.  I just didn't quite realize how hurtful they are to people, especially women. 
It's easy for guys to have a beer gut and talk shit because its more "acceptable" and many women seem to overlook it even when they have maintained a slim figure.  It is one of the many double standards and advantages we, as men enjoy after having dominated society for so long.  At the end of her article she says:

"But when I lost weight, I was rewarded with membership in a club I never knew existed, where the benefits included better treatment, greater professional success and, above all, a new status as qualified participant in the social world including romantic relationships."

I never quite thought about it this way, but it is very disconcerting.  Club? Really?

While this woman's own perception is clearly that- her own, it seems this mentality plagues many people who fail for one reason or another to establish satisfying personal lives.

Still, I think people take themselves too seriously.  They don't even want to be called fat sometimes.  Especially the REALLY fat ones as they prefer large, or BBW or whatever.  How come all of them consider themselves big, BEAUTIFUL women, anyways?  Who told you that? 
You ain't gotta lie to kick it.

If and when I am fat, fuck it say "I'm a fatso".  I mean really, are you THAT sensitive?  Do you not look in the mirror?  OWN the fact you are fat and I think it would make people a little more secure with themselves. 

Here is that article, btw.  Check it out:
http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/09/02/tf.lost.100.pounds.fat/index.html?hpt=T2