The hearts of my victims, but chances are I ate them already so it'll probably be fried chicken and a nice fat cowboy ribeye steak from Ruth's Chris Steakhouse--served by naked playboy playmates. Hey I'm going to die. Is it necessary to be completely proper?
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Earth Quake happening right now while I'm writing!
This is an interesting article. Just read it.
I can't believe that anyone would want to humiliate their child by giving them a bizzare name. I mean "Sex Fruit" and "Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii?" What kind of frakked off names are those? I thought "Latrina" was pretty awful for as student to have or even "Lemonjello" and "Orangejello" were pretty insane.
I used to think that Samuel was a pretty damned horrible name, but I realized as time went on it was quite a good name. An 18th century name, a name authors, statesmen, and beer.
But to make up some weirdo name out of ignorance and or puerile amusement is beyond comprehension. Those people should have their heads guillotined off for tormenting their children this way.
My favorite low budget activity is going to the library (or even the Huntington although my membership pays for it) with a favorite book or two, a notebook for writing, and soaking in the industrial air conditioning. Cost: $0.
Next would be going to a cafe with the same. Cost: $5 and being surrounded by noisy people.
As for activities with friends anything goes, but it usually costs more than $20.
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Choose to be optimistic. Choose to look and think about things differently. Control the inner voice and tell it to say something different when it says something negative. There's no other way. One has to want to be optimistic.
I have always hoped for the best, but experience has taught me to expect the worst from people and situations. One of my favorite writers put it this way about people in general: "they are ungrateful, fickle, dissembling, anxious to flee danger, and covetous of gain. So long as you prolong their advantage they are all yours, as I said before, and will offer you their blood, their goods, their lives and their children when the need for these is remote. When the need arises, however, they will turn against you."
I found this to be true so I choose to think cautiously. Still it's hard to force myself to think optimistcally when necessary, especially around friends and bretheren in Christ. Sometimes it bothers me to think about how naive they are to the evil taint that lurks in most people's hearts.
Teaching of course only adds to the notion that most people are as my favorite author describes. I find it amusing, at times, to observe some pompous, dimwitted, new teacher full of altruistic expectations to save the world be eaten alive by those half-feral creatures squashed into her classroom. A pity really. Most of those animals should be strapped The Wheel of Pain rather than have to study (ironically to them a wheel of pain itself). But I digress.
Think positively. Don't become a teacher unless you really want to.
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I had a day off today. I have many days off. But off of what? Work? Well that's easy. I'd hang out with a friend and have a nice three hour lunch and conversation.
As much as I detest the lazy French and southern European peoples (prefering the more industrious British, Germanic, and Scandinavian peoples) and their respective cultures and ex-colonies, they do get one thing straight: life is too short for a 30 minute meal or even a 60 minute one. How can one digest properly or even build lasting relationships with a short pit-stop to snort a crumb of food (have you seen Japanese people eat in a train station? I haven't, but I've heard stories of the snorting--isn't that right Nan&Will? )? It's not about the food, it's about the people!
I can say that most likely a good deal of all the broken relationships and loneliness in this world is because people don't take time to break bread and just share unguarded moments of good food and conversation. You can't get that chatting on-line, I can tell you. Real smiles, real food, real people.
If I had time off from life--well that's another story, but I won't indulge you in my Twilight Zone fantasies of revenge and comeuppance.
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How can I accept it? It happens so often that I've just grown numb to it. I was a romantic once and believed in true love and such nonsense, but I've found a solution, not that it's a good one. Here are the seven steps to dealing with rejection:
1. Don't care about anyone any more.
2. Don't expect anyone to care.
3. Expect only betrayal and rejection.
4. Be numb to people's emotions.
5. Be numb to your own emotions.
6. Take advantage of people's ignorance or weaknesses.
7. Build barriers to make you unaccessable.
You may not have peace or joy, but at least you'll have satisfaction and revenge. You won't be a 'good' person if there is such a thing, and you may not be able to live with yourself if you have a conscience, but you'll survive (and get rid of the conscience it only gets in the way of satisfaction). You only live once right?
OR
Just deal with it, stop feeling sorry about yourself, and try to put it in the past. Hang out with positive friends (not emo people--they can cut themselves to death for all I care--they like that feeling anyway) that won't sympathize (sympathy is of the devil; it only makes you feel worse), but will pull you out with their own positive outlook in life. Same
goes if it's a family member that rejects. Life's too short to be
hanging on to negative emotions and trying to figure them out. They're there. Move on. Love & kindness always show up when you least expect it, it's better that way.
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The Barista (1st draft)
Lithe she cleans with cloth in hand.
Punctilious with
Each cup, each bag, each display.
Then customer at hand, she stops
And glides--ponytail bobbing--
To attend. Fluttering, elf-like,
She shifts away dexterously
Completing the order.
In that moment the sun hit her so
That through my yet uncaffenated eyes
She glowed: Arwen at work.
And I, a forlorn ranger,
Scruffy and half conscious
Looked sadly into her brown eyes.
Then, as if to transfer her light,
She beamed her smile into my soul.
--In a blink it was gone:
Of course her boss was right there
Orienting the new hires on
Which bean and machine,
Holding filters to show.
It was her best and, for a beat,
I wished the magic lingered:
But the day wore on.
Actually there's two:
Being single and writing my thesis.
I just finished a draft today. I think I need to sleep. Writing for four days straight can kill you.
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Fried Chicken. It has to be fried chicken. Juicy, crunchy, savory fried chicken. I vowed not to have fried chicken until I finished my paper on Job & an "Essay on Man." Yes. I have stayed faithful to that vow. It has been two years. You don't know how hard it is to not just get a bucket of KFC and chow down. How many times have I looked with longing, as a buddhist for nirvana, as my collegues and I drive past Churches to go to Hollywood Park? Innumerable. I plan to have a full meal at Roscoes onces this infernal paper is completed.
Other comfort food for me that I have avoided, but not vowed to not eat are Niu Ro Mien, pot roast, prime rib, crab, lobster, and any delicious steak from Ruth's Chris Steakhouse. Just look at the steak on their website. It's carnevore porn.
Of course BBQ corn with satay sauce is a given comfort food. The only one that I will allow myself of having when I am exceptionally depressed--like today. 
All I've done is write, write, write and what have I to show for it but 5 measly pages. I've written more in my sleep!
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