So Maybe I was Being Unreasonable

Okay, so maybe I really was being unreasonable before. I have still been talking to the guy I met on Vegan Passions and I think he wasn't actually being an ass after all. I guess I'm just so used to people being asses to me that I have learned to expect it. Anyway, he actually seems pretty cool.

Now to the point. We were talking about jobs and he said that no one actually loves their job, and that the people who say they do are really just saying that to make themselves feel better. I think he may be right. I know that's the case with most people, because most people don't get to do what they had always wanted to do with their lives. What I'm really wondering about is the people who do get to do what they had always wanted to do. Do you think that as soon as you start doing something professionally it automatically loses it's appeal? I think it very well may. We actually discussed this phenomenon in one of my psych classes once. I believe the theory was (something like) as long as you're doing something just because you enjoy it, you get an emotional reward from it. However, if you add in a monetary reward it sort of negates the emotional one, and all of a sudden the thing that used to be fun is now a hassle because "it's your job." What do you think? Does anyone actually love their job?

I mean, even Sam and Dean hate their job and they have the best job ever. 

How Did I Not See This?

Yesterday, I was looking for a particular picture on Facebook. So I'm scrolling back through my old pictures and, at some point, I realize that the picture I'm looking for isn't there. However, I have become so wrapped up in looking at old pictures of myself that I just keep scrolling. I was horrified to find that the pictures just got worse and worse the further back I went (until I got to my time at WVU and then they got slightly better again). It was so bad that I was legitimately angry by the time I got to the end of them. I mean, I knew I was never happy with the way I looked. Now I know why. It's because I looked like shit! It also kind of makes me paranoid that I actually look like shit now and just don't realize it. Because I know damn well that I didn't realize I looked that bad back then or I would have done something about it.

Who is this and what is that growth protruding form her lower abdomen? Also, look at that arm; no muscle tone whatsoever. It looks like a fucking tentacle.  

Maybe I'm Being Unreasonable?

Remember the whole online dating thing? Well, I have been talking to this one guy for around two weeks now, and he seemed pretty cool. Yesterday, he gave me his real email address (as opposed to the one through Vegan Passions). I was actually really happy about it, because I felt like that meant that things were progressing. So I emailed him and was all excited waiting for him to email me back. Then, the first official email I get from him makes me think "Yeah, this is not going to go anywhere." He is a self-proclaimed "music snob" which is fine, as long as he doesn't act all condescending about my taste in music, which he kind of did. Another thing that pissed me off  in this email was that he asked me if I was finished with school. Which, as you all know, I'm not. However, I am 26 so most people would assume that I am either finished with college or that I didn't go. The fact that he asked about it kind of made me feel like what he really wanted to ask was "So you're not really planning on being a cashier forever, right?" And I hope I don't end up being a cashier forever, but if I do, I would hope that he would be able to respect me anyway. I don't really feel like he would. Also, I feel comfortable bitching about him here because, despite the fact that I mentioned my writing at least twice, he didn't ask about it. If I met someone I was interested in and I found out that they wrote a blog, I would be dying to read it and find out how their mind works. Not him.

I swear, it seems like every person who ever shows an interest in me, is only interested in me in theory. When I actually start talking about myself they zone out, which is really weird in this case because I basically outlined my entire personality on my profile. It kind of makes me wonder if he even bothered to read the damn thing.

Get it? Because she seemed really nice and like she was really interested in Sam, then it turned out that she was actually a demon. (Unfair?) 

It's the Most Important Part of the Story, the Ending

For quite some time now, I have been thinking that I would like to write a book. Specifically, I've been thinking that I would like to write a memoir. I know what you're thinking "That's a stupid idea! You're always talking about how your life is super boring!" and, yes, you are right. However, despite how bored I am with my life right now, if I cut out all the boring parts and only cover the most interesting things from my entire life in a relatively short book, I think it could be rather compelling. I actually have had some rather unique and unusual experiences, that some people might actually care to hear about. Here's the problem; I have no idea how I would end such a book. I feel like anyone who might read it would want some sort of resolution at the end, and there is absolutely no aspect of my life which has been resolved. I feel like I have to do something, or be something, or at least figure out something before I can write a book about my life. At this point, I feel like if anyone actually read my life to the end they would get to the last page and yell "What the fuck was that!" and throw the book across the room. So come on, Powers That Be, give me some sort of epiphany so I can write my fucking book.

Check it out, you guys. We have the same hair. 

I Have a Wand Now. Wands Are Cool.

So this is going to sound really stupid to anyone who isn't me, and I kind of feel like an ass ever writing it but whatever, I feel like an ass most of them time anyway.

I have been slowly gathering the various tools, symbols, and artifacts associated with Wicca. One of the things I wanted to get was a wand. I had been thinking about buying one, but then David Salisbury's book said that you should create your own. He said to use a fallen branch rather than breaking or cutting one from a tree, and that the wand should be about the length from your elbow to the tip of your middle finger. I knew immediately which tree I wanted to get my wand from. 

There is this one tree that I have loved ever since I was a kid. I used to climb it all the time and, (here comes the really stupid sounding part) I always felt like we had an emotional connection. Anyway, I had been thinking about it for a couple of days and just didn't bother to go look for one. Then, the other day, I just suddenly got all inspired and thought "I'm going to go get a wand from my tree!" This happened to be on a day when it was pouring the fucking rain, but I didn't care; I was going to get a wand! So I'm trudging through the rain, trying to get to my tree and I'm looking at my feet the whole time to make sure I don't trip over anything hidden in the waste high weeds. Then, all of a sudden, I look up and there is this fallen branch tangled in another branch and hanging directly in front of my face. It was exactly the circumference that I was wanting and was almost perfectly straight but with all these cool little knots on it. There was one knot that, when I held it up to my arm, was just at the end of my middle finger. I thought to myself "if it breaks right there, I'll know this is supposed to be my wand, and guess what? It did. The really cool thing is that David Salisbury also mentioned that wands are never supposed to touch the ground. So the fact that this branch had fallen without touching the ground is pretty fucking amazing, I mean if you're a big nerd like me that is. Anyway, the point is I now have a really cool wand that was a gift from my favorite tree.

Nerdiest post ever? Oh, I think so. 

Right Next to the People Who Talk at the Theater

For the last three or four days, every time I check my email, my inbox has been absolutely packed full of the most obnoxious spam; namely, ads for porn and various methods of penis enlargement. Well guess what spammers? I don't have a fucking penis, nor do I have any interest in seeing "giant bouncing boobies" or finding out whether Brittney or Jamie Lynn is the bigger slut. Thanks anyway though! Fuckers. Seriously, there is a place for people who crowd my, already over-crowded, inbox with this type of shit. It's called.........

You Really Don't Have to Read This One.

Blah, blah, blah, blah. I need to write something. Blah, blah. It's five in the morning and I have to get ready for work. Blah, blah, blah. I should have gone to get my check on Friday because now I want to order silly things online and can't because I don't have enough money. Blah, blah. My brain doesn't work this early in the morning. Blah. This morning I set my clock for 4:00 and woke up at 3:59. Kind of weird. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, this post was a waste of all of our time. Sorry.