Tommy's Journal

life, liberty, and the pursuit of happinesses
It's Friday the 13th. My holiday. And I don't have to work! Huzzah!

I am a weird little person (@ 6' tall) and I am anti-superstitious. I believe in the power of belief. I think that reality is created and maintained by conscious beliefs. As such, if you believe that breaking a mirror, walking under a ladder, having a black cat cross your path, et cetera is bad luck then it most certainly will be for you.

So why can't the opposite be true if you believe it to be so?

Anyway, I am going to go see Where The Wild Things Are today.

How have things been going in TommyLand, you ask? Well let me tell you!

Either today or Monday I will know if my apartment application has been accepted and then (presuming it goes through alright) I can start packing things up so I can move in on December 1st. I will be living by myself, much closer to downtown (5 minute walk to downtown, 15 minute walk to work), drinking less, writing more, highly considering getting a cat again (it's been a whole year! That's a long time for me to be without feline companionship!), and hopefully life will take off from there.

Next week I start getting barback shifts in our bar, so that gets me closer to my goal of becoming a bartender. W00t w00t!

The girl and I had a talk and decided to slow things down a bit. She was afraid that she was only attracted to me when she was drunk and didn't want that to be the case, so I suggested that we scale our time together back a bit until we were both able to cut back on the alcohol. I think a little space is a healthy thing. And sometimes you have to take a step back and look at a relationship from a different perspective to fully appreciate it.

My brother is coming up for the weekend and on Sunday we're going to the Vikings/Lyon's game! I've never been to a pro football game before so it should be fun! Even if we did get nosebleed seats. It'll be interesting to see the Metrodome in football configuration from the inside. I've only been to Twins games there.

Ok, enough typing. My thumbs are tired of hitting the little keys. Oh, to have a working computer again... Soon, it will happen soon.

Post from mobile portal m.livejournal.com

love life update
Update on my love life: things are going well.

Let us view this last week's emotional ups and downs in chronological order...

Friday: We both worked. She went to St Paul to dance up a salsa storm. Later that night she sent me some very disconcerting texts basically saying that she wasn't good enough for me, that she would only hurt me, and that I deserved someone better.

I did not like that because that's what my last serious relationship was broken up over: her self-esteem and self-control issues.

Saturday: We both worked. I got off first and went to the bar. I forgot to eat. I met up with my buddy whom I hadn't seen in a long time. We did shots. She got off work and we did more shots after she got there. Drama occurred , but not between us. I pretty much passed out on the bar and some friends took me home.

Sunday: Still having the thoughts from Friday night in my head, I told her that we needed to discuss some things. We needed to define what our relationship meant to each other.

Monday: I decided to give her a day without talking to me in order for her to think and reflect on the situation.

Tuesday: We met up after work. We went to one of our friendly pubs that we frequent and had a wonderful conversation. We ironed things out, said truthful and satisfying things to each other, and basically agreed not to give up on each other and our relationship, and to help each other better our selves and our lives.

I saw more of her than I had seen before and it only made me fall in love more. It was a very important night.

Thursday(yesterday): We had lunch together. Probably our first "real" date, but it didn't feel like a date because we already know each other, so we were simply getting to know each other more.

Last night, well, I can't repeat what we said to each other, but it was informative and arousing.

Today we had lunch together again and I walked her to work. I got to see her in her Halloween costume, which is dead sexy.

I don't know for sure if I'm going to see her tonight or tomorrow, but we're planning on hanging out on Sunday to watch the Packers/Vikings game. I might potentially meet her "daddy" (a father figure/mentor of her's), who professed an interest in meeting me.

I'm not looking forward to working tonight, and I don't really care what happens tomorrow, but I'm really looking forward to Sunday. I just simply enjoy being around her. Feeling her touch, her arms around me, her fingers running through my hair... *sigh* we compliment each other very well. And we're learning more and more about each other every day that furthers that complementation.

So yeah, things are going well. :)

Post from mobile portal m.livejournal.com

Hopeless? Romantic.
So I have officially taken my heart from it's usual place on my sleeve and offered it to someone. No, I didn't propose marriage or anything, but I took the relationship between us from "friends who make out" to "friends who just might be in love with each other", which hopefully will end up as "two people who are madly in love with each other."

Heh, I am definitely not a normal boy. I've never gone in for meaningless relationships. I always only ever tell someone that I love them when it's the truth.

Last night she was telling me that she makes herself seem happy around others because she doesn't want them to worry about her. I do the same thing. My friends cheer me up, and when I'm around them I don't feel like ruining the happy feeling I get from their company by weeping on their shoulders. My best friend Maiya is one of the few I've been able to open up to, and I still find that hard.

I don't know. Every time I offer up my heart on a platter I feel like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. I just hope it works out this time. Every time is different than the last. Each time I can't imagine falling in love with anyone else. And I hate the idea that I could simply fall in love with anyone. No. That's bulllshit. I love this girl for who she is. Sure, she's stunningly gorgeous (my opinion is biased though, I suppose), but so are millions of other girls out there. Each person's situation in life is unique and her's makes her who she is. That is what I love. Who she is.

I think she was trying to tell me last night that I shouldn't say that I love her because she doesn't think I know her fully, truly yet. And perhaps I don't. I'm sure the same could be said about me. But love is not a definition. It's a feeling. And BECAUSE I love her, I want to know who she is underneath her layers. I can only hope she wants to let me see that side of her. I hope she wants to know me the same way. We shall see.

Post from mobile portal m.livejournal.com

I need these things:

I need my computer back and it needs to have a good stable high speed internet connection.

I need to stop spending money on going out and drinking for no reason. If someone wants to go out with me, fine. They can call and set something up. No more seeking people out, I have too many friends as it is.

I need to spend more time with my plants and my fish. I love taking care of things. When I'm fiddling with the plants or cleaning the fish tank, I feel so relaxed.

I need a cat again. This one will have to wait until I get a place for myself, but I realized the other day that I have been without a feline in my life for far too long. There is little that compares to the comfort of the kind of unconditional love you can get from a pet if you treat them right and love them in return. Just the thought that, no matter what happens out there in the big bad world, I can always come home and my cat will be happy to see me is such a boost of confidence.

I need to write more. I come up with a story idea, on average, about once a month. The last time I truly wrote anything was several months ago, so you can imagine how many ideas I have piled up. Thankfully I am really good at writing them down in such a way that I can recall the idea as it was when I thought it up. But still, even a good egg will go bad if you let it sit too long.

That's just what's on my mind today. I ran into my buddy Benji last night and we talked about writing. He is one of the few people I know who actively writes and discusses it with others. It was a challenging conversation though, because he was drunk, I wasn't, and he went back and forth between lauding the quality of my work (to the point of stating that he probably couldn't be my editor because he'd end up stealing my ideas) and overtly condemning it as being in serious need of some editing. I know it's all first draft, unedited copy. I know that I will have to go through it a few times at leas before I give it to someone else to edit.

He did pay me a big compliment though by telling his friend who he was drinking with that reading my stories has helped him shape the trilogy of books he is writing. It feels good to be an influence on someone else's writing, considering I haven't ever been published.

Ohh so hungry. A few minutes ago it occurred to me that, since my bedroom is on the first floor in the front of the house an my bed stands next to one of the front porch windows, if I removed the screen and slid the window up I could order food for delivery to my bed. And that has suddenly made me very hungry. So I must go get food. And put on cloth. Probably not in that order. Au revoir.

A turning point?
So I've been thinking about this for some time and I've nearly decided that I need to move out of the house I live in. Here are the pros and cons.

Cons:
* I live with two bachelors and none of us encourage cleanliness while we are around each other.

* I don't like watching tv unless it's educational, like the History Channel, Discovery Channel, etc. All they like to do is watch Cheers or Mash, which are great shows that I like, but they waste time I should be spending doing creative stuff. I WILL NOT waste my life sitting on a couch!

* I never feel like writing. The only time I have ever done any successful writing in this house was the brief time when I lived here alone. I write best in my own space, on my on time, with zero distractions.

* My computer does not work. I cannot write on any other medium, I need to be able to type on a keyboard so my thoughts can just flow out. I freewrite, it just spews out. And if I can't get it down fast enough, well it's like trying to capture the water from a garden hose with a thimble. It just doesn't work. And I know I won't get it fixed while I live here.

* I have no motivation. I can't bring myself to do anything but play video games and watch movies while I'm home. I don't even want to do laundry! I don't know what it is that gets me to do things, but it isn't something that happens here.

* I am finding myself not wanting to be home. Staying at the bar longer after work, staying in bed later until my roommates leave for work. Spending more time shut up in my room. I did this before with my previous roommates in a few locations. I need to stop running away and stand up for myself.

Pros:
* I love living in a house. I love having laundry facilities here (though our drier is currently broken). I love being able to plant and tend to flowers and plants. I love not having to deal with the BS you get in apartment buildings.

* I have a great landlord. He's very appreciative of stuff we do around the house and when I am late with rent he lets me be late. Doesn't charge me anything. He understands that sometimes you have lots of money and other times it just isn't there.

I don't want to screw anyone over. This is the pushover in me coming out. My roommate Jeremy might have to move out and if I do the same then my landlord and Jack (other roomie) are stuck finding two more people to live here. I shouldn't let that bug me though. There has to be a difference between being friends with someone and bending over backwards for them unnecessarily. And I must find that line of difference in me. I must change.

I need to realize that I need to live alone. I am a really good people person, great at listening and being observant and helpful, but they get to me. They get on my nerves, under my skin. I need a place to go where I can lock the doors, close the blinds, turn off the phone, and get guaranteed peace.

What I did.
So, here's what I did to myself about two weeks ago on my golden birthday: I fell down a flight of concrete stairs. I bruised my tailbone and gave myself a concussion. The next day I was in grievous amounts of pain, both in my ass and my head/brain, but I went into work anyway (and promptly took the early cut). I could barely hear out of my left ear as that entire side of my head was bruised and fairly swollen. Also, after a few days I lost my sense of smell. Which was bizarre, let me tell you. Everything tasted like there was simply a layer of flavor missing. Then after about five days my smell started to return, as did my hearing in the left ear. I thought "good, the swelling must be going down". Then I lost hearing in my right ear. When it was the left ear, everything was just muffled, but with the right ear there was the addition of a 'ringing' sound.

My tailbone has slowly been improving. At first I couldn't move, sit, or do anything without pain. I was taking two Ibuprofen (200mg tablets) a day just to stem some of the pain. I was clenching my teeth so much that I was giving myself some nasty stress headaches which is pretty easy to do when your brain is bruised. After five days or so it got to where I could sit down on a cushion just fine and not be in pain if I was in the right position. Standing was another matter. When you stand up your muscles put all the weight of your torso onto your hips and thus your tailbone area. Hurts like hell. It was also painful to stand in one spot for more than a few minutes or lean backwards on anything. So it was either keep moving or lay down. In addition to that I could not take a stride longer than about a foot and a half past my planted foot. As I extended my leg straight out I received a sharp nervous pain from my tailbone down the back of my leg when I got about halfway out. So that reduced my to shuffling around like those little wind-up Godzillas you buy in gas stations.

Now the only improvement I can report is that my right leg is not in as much pain. My tailbone is swollen more on the left side so my left leg gets the brunt of it. The bruises on the left side of my head are pretty much healed but my brain will take more time. I still get a massive feeling of someone shoving a hundred needles into my head if I stand up too fast and cause blood to rush to my brain, but I forced myself to stop clenching my teeth when anything hurts and to breathe instead.

And no, I have not gone to a doctor. Why not? Well for one, I can't afford it. I don't have insurance. Two, there's very little they can do for my tailbone except to tell me to buy a doughnut shaped pillow, take it easy at work, and not to sit on hard surfaces.

I've never had a regular doctor. When I was a really little kid I think I had one, but after we moved to Missouri (I was ten) the only doctor I saw on a regular basis was my orthodontist... Which if anything put me off doctors all the more. As far as I was concerned, I was being tortured for the two and a half years I had braces.

If my smell and hearing don't come back in a week or so I'll probably go to a doctor and get some answers, but I hate having to make an advanced appointment, wait forever in a room, talk to a nurse, and then spend ten minutes with a doctor I've never met before and might not ever meet again, get my advice, and proceed to empty my wallet on the way out. Whatever happened to the 'family doctor'?

That pretty much sums up my last two weeks or so. Working in pain, reading and napping at home, and trying to do as much work around the house as I can stand.

So last night went well. Anna and I went to this great old pizza place called Dulono's. I showed up at 7 to save us a good spot and she joined me a half hour later. We had a few beers and some tasty pizza.

She gave me my birthday present; a watercolor painting of flowers. She always used to draw pictures of these crazy flowers and give them to me, so I was happy to see that that's what she had painted for me. She even framed it.

I gave her the gift I got for her birthday (which is two days after mine); a set of colored ink "brush" pens (basically ink pens with a flexible felt tip). She liked them.

We talked about life, about living here and the possibility of living elsewhere. Why we might want to move and what holds us back. We talked about working in the Service Industry (as restaurant workers) and what other things we could possibly do. I have had a few good ideas for myself for a while now but she had no clue what she wants to do with the rest of her life.

And we talked about music, mostly bluegrass since that's kind of what we were listening to. Her cousin is in a bluegrass band and she's a fan of the genre. We're going to a bluegrass music festival next Saturday which I'm excited about.

After we paid the bill and sleepily finished our beers I asked what she wanted to do next. She shrugged. I asked "do you want to go home or have one more?" She said she could do either, so I suggested that we have one more but relocate elsewhere and maybe that would wake us up. She was ok with that but after a few blocks of walking and yawning on our way to the bar she said "Maybe I should just go home." I said I was ok with that (we were only a few blocks from her apartment). She waited with me for a little bit at the bus stop and we said goodbye. We both agreed that we should hang out together more often. A couple good hugs but nothing more and I sent her off to her apartment. Caught the bus to downtown, and the next one to my place, and went to bed.

So, a few things...

I can tell that she's definitely matured since last year when we stopped hanging out. She doesn't seem to be quite as flaky and aside from a few phone calls from her brother she focused on me (and the music) during dinner. She doesn't drink as much, doesn't go out and get wasted as often as she used to. From talking to her, just from the way she described why she doesn't want to do those kinds of things anymore, I can tell she has grown up since then.

She was the one who ask me to hang out. She said she was glad she did. And she mentioned first that we should do it again soon. I find that promising. I've been thinking about which friends I'll naturally retain when I stop drinking all the time and she seems like a great candidate for one of them. We have several common interests outside of work and the bar scene.

The only thing I wonder about when I think about the possibility of us getting back together is that she still doesn't know what she wants to do with her life. I mean, I by no means know what the rest of my life will be like, but I have a short term plan, a set of goals and ideas of what I want to accomplish. She is unsure, and I fear that that insecurity will scare her away from a commitment. The last huge talk/argument we had about us being together was punctuated with her faults and insecurities. I said I needed someone to care for me and to care about me, she said she didn't. She brought up the supposed fact that she's always cheated on her past boyfriends, that I shouldn't want to date her because she is a bad girlfriend. I think a lot of that has changed or at least mellowed out, but I wonder if she still has some of those nagging thoughts in her mind, holding her back.

I'm encouraged by the fact that she was so eager to hang out, to elongate the night instead of trunicating it, and that she put a decent amount of effort into my present. I guess I'll just have to see how next Saturday goes and play it by ear.

What do I do? How do I repress these feelings? Moreover, how do I hold back the hope that she wants something more than friendship? And do I want to? Of course I don't, I want that hope to carry me into the stratosphere. I want to hope until my hope drive gives out. Guess that's why they call us "hopeless romantics"; because trying to stagnate our hope in dire circumstances is, well, hopeless. We don't like giving in. Don't like the feeling of resignation.

I'm going out to dinner (pizza and beer and bluegrass) with her tomorrow night. She keeps says she misses me and that we should hang out more often. *sigh* I could go on forever about my speculations, but in the end I guess you just have to deal with what comes your way as best as you can.

Anna
It was such a nice, great, wonderful feeling to be with her. This morning it occurred to me why. It wasn't just because she wanted someone and I wanted someone, it was because we needed each other. She needed me and I needed her. It was necessary for us to be together.

But when you say it like that it makes it sound so technical. Yet if you were to listen to someone who is on the receiving end of a break-up, that is what they would plead: "You can't go, I need you!" Not "This is very inconvenient at this time." or "How very unfortunate." No, need is always at the forefront of love.

It's like the ultimate form of attachment. You want to be as independent as you possibly can and yet, deep down, you want someone you can depend on. That means needing them in your life. At first it's enjoyable to be around them. It's fun! You get so that you want them around more often. Then when you feel those feelings reciprocated it only serves to fuel the fire.

I haven't had anyone like that in my life since Anna. We were only "together" for about a month and a half before she sensed that it was getting too serious for her and broke it off, but like the hopeless romantic of a fool I am she strung my affection along for another half a year until I got so fed up that I went so far as to tell her that I couldn't even be her friend unless she grew up. I know now why she needed me, it wasn't for the same reasons I needed her. But that doesn't mean my feelings for her were any less relevant.

Now we are friends and coworkers once again, and I'm happy about that, but will we ever be able to drop what happened between the two of us? Will I? As long as I'm single, every time I see her somewhere deep down I still hold a secret hope that she's changed her mind. That she wants to start a real relationship with me.

I once told a girl that you never stop loving someone, you merely forget the truth. You put it away, in the back of your mind. Cover it up, like that forgotten box in the corner of the attic. But it's still there, hoping that one of these days the right someone will remember it, will want it, and will dig it up again.

pains of life?
Tonight I slept from 8 pm till 12:30. My roommates woke me up. It's 3:30 and I'm just now getting tired enough to fall back to sleep.

The past few days have been very strange. Kind of scary even. It started Friday night. I worked at Restaurant Max and went out drinking afterwards. Met up with a few friends. Bar hopped and did a few shots. Didn't have a huge amount to drink, especially for me, but I also hadn't eaten since 4pm. Whatever was in that last shot must have been strong alcohol.

Awoke Saturday hungover as hell, went to work at Brit's. Took the first cut, ate a grilled cheese sandwich and some tomato soup, struggled not to throw up on the bus ride home. Thought it was just motion sickness. Nope. Got off the bus, half block later, threw up in the gutter. Went home, lay on the couch and watched movies all day.

I though, "ok, I just need to rehydrate myself." So I drank water. Eventually I felt sort of hungry, so I made pasta with red sauce. Ate a bowl full of that. Not long after, threw that up. No doubt about it, I was experiencing alcohol poisoning. Had the shakes pretty bad, couldn't even stand to drink too much water.

Sunday I relaxed as much as I could before I had to go into work at Brit's at 5. Thought I would be second cut but I ended up closing. I did ok but I was still weak throughout the shift. My lower back was hurting. Had a few beers afterwards, which I probably shouldn't have done but I thought "Maybe a little hair of the dog that bit me will do the trick." I also hoped it would act as a muscle relaxer. It kind of did, along with the distraction of conversation. But once I got home and went to bed, the pain had returned.

This morning I was experiencing chest pain and pain in my upper arms. I had enough of an appetite to each a half sandwich (I usually don't eat before 10 so that was good), but by the time I got downtown I was worried about having some sort of mild heart attack or something like that. So I bought some Bayer aspirin from the Walgreens (I guess their advertising worked because it was the first one that came to mind).

The aspirin helped a little with the pain, but after an hour of work (again at Brit's) I now had pain in my upper back and spinal cord, even up into my neck.

So I got off work, went to Kinko's to make fliers for my birthday party next Monday, and after sitting down for a while I felt really good. Not terribly energetic, but not in pain. Posted one at Brit's and went to The Local to have a few beers with coworkers. Ended up having four beers over the course of two and a half hours and I felt ok. Went home via the bus, bought some meat and veggies to grill out for dinner, and started the grill burning.

But by the time I got the grill hot I felt like I was going to pass out. I didn't want to go to sleep without having ingested some nutrients so I finished cooking (totally overcooking the steak and hot dogs) and ate what I could, put the food away, and fell asleep at 8pm.

I don't know if it's built up stress, or drinking too much, or working too hard, or what, but something is causing my body to hurt. To cry out "Stop whatever it is that isn't right!" I can usually judge my overall state of happiness by how many flying dreams I have. It has been quite a long time since I've had one. The last one was probably a year from last December when I thought Anna and I were dating.

*sigh* I don't know. I hope it gets better. Life, the pain, the world, all of it.

dreams
Last night I had a few dreams I remember parts of.

In one dream I had this submarine model which was about two feet long and I was guiding it through the air like it was underwater. "We" went into some sort of secret military base to obtain secret data from the computer mainframe. It turned out to be an office but none of the people could see me. I directed the sub behind one of the worker's computers but it could not gain access as that user was already logged in to the system, so we went instead to the central printer (which, btw, was one of those old school printers with the continuous feed paper with the little holes on the side). There we were able to gain access.

Then, while the sub was looking for what it needed, I looked over at the group of workers seated at their desks and saw someone I recognize! A friend (and crush) of mine, Sully. So I stood up, walked over to her, and said hi. She said hi back and asked what I was doing around there. I made up something that sounded plausible. We chatted for a minute or two and then she said "You should come over-" when her coworker interrupted her, saying "Yeah! You should come over and party with us! How about Wednesday?!" I said I could come over on Wednesday and he said "That's great!" and turned back to his terminal. Sully stood up and we walked away from the rest of the people. Then she said "Why don't you come over right now?" I said "Sounds good to me!" We got in some sort of utility truck (like the ones they carry football players off the field in) and started to leave the facility. After going through a couple gates and doors I think we had to get out or something like that. Then there was a distraction (whether it was in the dream or it was me waking up momentarily I can't remember) and after that I couldn't seem to get Sully's attention. Then the dream faded away.

It sucks when you really connect with someone in a dream and then it's like they left the dream and all that remains of them is your memory of them. An empty shell of a personality. When this happens with people I know I'm tempted to ask them if they had the same dream. If we did actually meet in our dreams.

As for Sully, I'd love to date her and she has a damn fine body but I'm horrible at dating. I barely ever see her and all I ever do when I'm not working or at home is going to the bars. I dunno, maybe I'll see if she wants to go to a baseball game with me.

Another dream I had which I remember vividly was that I was a sort of Homer meets Al Bundy kind of person (someone the world tend to shit on) and I was on this floating platform, some sort of buoy, in the middle of a deep lake. I was supposed to be fishing I think, but I had no fishing rod. The main mast or pole that stuck out of the buoy was bent at and angle and so the buoy kept tilting unsteadily. I was sitting on a rusty oil barrel and either myself, the barrel, or both of us would fall into the water. It was terrifying because, even though the sun was out in full, the water was just black as night and you couldn't see past a few feet. Scared the hell out of me. Then for some reason the buoy started to spin around. Slowly at first, then picking up speed. I noticed that the water around it, about ten feet on all sides, was spinning too and little eddys were being created here and there. Suddenly I saw what was creating the commotion; several large fish! These were carp like, long bodies about six to eight feet with powerful tail and dorsal fins. I saw one attack a house that was right on the water's edge. I didn't know what to do. Finally the fish whirlpool brought me close to land and they swam away. I jumped into the shallow water and clambered onto the shore as fast as I could.

I only have a few phobias. Bees are one of them, and I'm not too fond of heights (though I love climbing trees). But swimming in deep lakes creeps me out. I could swim across Lake Calhoun easily (it's 400 acres and 87 feet deep) because I know that there are people out there every day. But there was this quarry turned swimming beach down by Ames, IA that didn't have any tributaries and if you ventured fifteen feet out, beyond the dropoff, your feet would be ice cold because the sun could only heat the top five feet of water. Creepy as hell!

OK, I'll stop rambling now.

girl ramblings
Today I am supposed to go rollerblading with this girl I work with. It's kind of windy (20 mph winds gusting to 25/30mph) so I'm not sure if we'll rollerblade, but I'm going to try to convince her to do something anyway, maybe grab lunch.

She's the roommate of another coworker who left for vacation in Europe somewhere, so she basically filled in, but now she gets to keep her hours because myself and one of the other wait assistants reduced our hours. Anyway, so I know her roommate.

I'm rambling, but whatever.

I had a dream last night that I was in her apartment and she was asking me my opinion on her attire. She was going to some event that was "casual formal" so she had on dark blue jeans and a navy sleeveless top that was kind of shimmery but not heavy. Good summer ware. I can't remember the whole conversation, I just remember us debating if she was under dressed or over dressed.

So anywho, I want to date her. She's got a great personality, very midwestern but at the same time she's full of energy (she's a runner) and whenever we work together she always brings me up. I feel like I find hidden reservoirs of energy and emotion when she's around.

I hope we can hang out today, she's going on vacation for a week in North Dakota (where she is from) so I want to let her know I'm interested in her before she leaves.

dreams of one sort or the other
I wish my situation in life was different. I'm not sure quite how, but something is not right. I have not been able to successfully have a consistent writing streak in a long while. Really, only a few times since I moved up here. Oh, I've come up with tons of ideas, to be sure, but I haven't brought many of them to fruition.

Just a few minutes ago I awoke from a dream that I was in this mental hospital (which, according to further details revealed later in the dream, sat on a hill in the middle of an island, which I think was in one of the great lakes). I had been taken there by my parents for reasons I did not know and I could not understand why they wouldn't let me go. I was never restrained, never restricted to a room. I wandered around the grounds alone in sadness. I was given no medication. The weather was always overcast and gloomy. Finally one day as my parents were taking their usual "visitation" (which entailed them walking around the facility halfway down the hill) I ran down to confront them about it. My mom wouldn't say anything and just walked away, stonefaced. My step-dad tried to explain to me that whenever I got angry, bad things happened, and this made them afraid of me. I said how I wasn't getting any help there and it was stupid of them to be keeping me prisoner there. I got very angry, hoping to invoke some understanding, but finding none in his eyes, I calmed down and decided on my next course of action. Concentrating, I caused a gigantic thunderstorm to come up and the rain poured down such that you couldn't see five feet in front of you. I said "goodbye" to them and, with their last act of charity, my step-dad said "good luck". I turned and walked down to the shore. Freezing the water in front of me, I created a bridge out into the water.

I woke up before I reached anything on my ice bridge. That dream fits perfectly as a chapter in the first novel I started to write a few years back, back when I was still depressed. The reason I stopped writing it was because I solved the chemical part of my depression and thus my mind did not experience the routine dip into the anger and sadness that the loneliness of depression causes in you, which is what I used as inspiration for my main character. It's difficult, when you aren't depressed, to make yourself think about those things. You just naturally want to stay happy.

Heh heh, ironically it's the situation which keeps me from writing that is making me have these thoughts, and that dream. Our clothes drying is broken and the sink that our washer drains into is clogged, so doing laundry is a pain in the ass and thus my room is a musty sty of dirty clothes. We still don't have internet here and I still haven't fixed my computer such that it's running at full capacity. I have been working two full time jobs (though now I'm down to about 40 hours a week, thank the stars) so I've been both mentally and physically stressed out (I did just get an hour long massage yesterday though!). All these things assist in coming up with ideas for that first book, but hinder my ability to sit down and concentrate on writing it all down.

Work, plants, and hurty throat.
I am sitting at a bar. It is called The Local. It is an Irish pub. I am drinking a free Magner's cider. And I am tired.

Working two jobs can tire you out, and I am working two jobs. Thus, well, you get the gist.

I have been working at Restaurant Max since August and I just started working my second job at Brit's Pub (an English pub) a few weeks ago. I have probably made more money since I've started at Brit's than I have in the last 30 days at Max. And I have a fraction of the stress at Brit's than at Max.

Therefore I decided that, once I catch up on my rent that I owe my landlord, I shall be quitting my job at Restaurant Max. I'm getting really tired of fine dining. At Max I have to water every table when they come in, clear in-between courses, maintain full water glasses, use proper serving etiquette (serve from this side, clear from that side, don't clear until they are all done, serve the women first at dinner, don't serve the host first, etc.) PLUS bussing, wiping, and resetting the table.

At Brit's I just clear and reset. I take out trash, bottles, wash glasses for the bartenders, take down bus tubs (half the time by carrying, half by wheeling a cart into an elevator), and a few other minor jobs. No stress. Lots of money.

I feel like I've ranted this before. Don't care. I feel like nothing else in my life matters to me until this is resolved. I have been and will for at least another two weeks be working both jobs and thus "work" shall dominate my mind. *sigh* but let me try to exercise a bit of variety...

I have planted many plants in the last couple weeks. I planted petunias, begonias, black eyed susans, and violets. I planted 6 miniature roses and 5 mini miniature roses and two weird mini mini roses that resemble viney moss roses. Oh, and I planted 20 moss roses, and I plan on planting 16-20 more. I also plan on planting wind onion and/or leeks (I would plant ramps but I'm told they are hard to grow and even harder to propagate such that you could buy they ready-to-plant from a store). And tomatoes, both beefsteak and cherries hopefully.

Tomorrow I plan on digging up the patch for the roses so I can buy them on Thursday from the farmer's market downtown and plant them either Saturday after my lunch shift or Sunday before my dinner shift.

On a totally random separate note, I am sick with something. After a day (the usual 16 hours or whatever) my throat hurts when I swallow. Last night I woke myself up at 5 am because it hurt so much when I swallowed that I winced with pain each time. I had to take 400 milligrams of ibuprofen and wait a half an hour for the pain and swelling to subside. I should go to the doctor, but I dislike going to a doctor that I don't know. Which is kind of self- defeating since that generally keeps me from going to the doctor at all. The last time I had something bar enough to warrant going to the doctor (in my mind) I had a fungal infection (or perhaps they referred to it as an infestation?) in my throat. Yes, I had fungus growing in my throat. Soooo anyway, yeah. Booo. And now I shall drink my beer, catch my bus, and pass out. Hopefully in my bed, not on the bus.

new job!
So I started a new job tonight at a place called Brit's Pub! It's a second job, I'm still working all my shifts at my Restaurant Max, which means I'll probably be working about 60 hours a week, 6-7 days a week. Uhg. But it will earn me so much money. I fucking need it. I'm so damn tired of always being indebted to my landlord and never able to buy anything but the necessities. Except beer for the house, of course. That's a necessity, right?

Anyway, I like this job a LOT more. At Max I have to water tables, observe etiquette, bus tables, reset tables with a full lunch setup (water glass on beverage napkin, cloth napkin, big fork, big knife, small knife) or dinner setup (lunch plus wine glass and small fork). I have to run big oval trays with three, four, or five heavy entrée plates on them up a flight of marble steps (which aren't forgiving one bit on your feet), and on top of all that I have to be a houseman afterwards at night. Resetting the meeting rooms after working all day long really sucks. Aaaaand I very rarely get to do anything for the bar, which is where I want to be working!

At Brit's, I clear empty glassware and dirty dishes from tables (and I don't have to wait for the entire table to be done either), I clear and reset empty dirty tables (resetting invloves a paper napkin with a fork and a knife on top of it at each chair for some tables, for others it all gets piled in the middle of the table, and for the rest they get buckets full of silverware, napkins, condiments, etc), I take down bus tubs, I take out the trash every now and then, and I restock whatever bar is in my section. So. Much. Better.

But damn am I going to be tired. I can tell that this is going to cut into my drinking habit because I'll be wanting to get a good (sober) night's rest most nights.

Speaking of resting, another thing I really really need is a new bed damn it! My bed is super old and it has to be horrible on my back. Can't wait to be able to afford something nice to sleep on!

And with that, I'm out. TTFN, ta ta for now!

Sureal to me, not sureal to you.
I am a little stoned right now so if my typing is off, forgive me. Thinking in slow mo and all...

Tonight I went to a talent show at my friend Jackie's house. I should say, I participated in it. Yes I should. I was the opening act! I read four poems, three of which were light and comical. It helped warm the crowd up.

It's hard to write when, by the time you finish typing a thought, you've very nearly forgotten what it was you were thinking about.

I... had more to say but I forgot it.

Anyway, it was a good time. It was my first time performing in front of any kind of audience and I was a little nervous but it went well. The other spoken word/poetry was good, the musical acts were great, and the dancing (especially the second enactment) was fantastic!

Mmm, now I have more to say but I'll hold my tongue... (there were some really attractive girls there! Tee hee!)

Aaaaand that's it. Damn, only half done with my bus ride...

Blogs, writing, and the world today
On CBS Sunday Morning New today I viewed a program on the disappearance of metropolitan newspapers and their adaptations to the internet. They discussed online articles, pay sites versus free news, and blogs. Blogging as I understand it is a journal with a purpose of being heard.

Different from a journal, which is aimed at people you know, a blog is directed towards total strangers, and as many as possible.

So my journal question to you is, how does someone who wants to start a blog get it going? I understand there are blog sites, but how does one get their name out there?

Something that struck me while I was watching the TV segment today was their lack of commentary on writer recognition.

When you pick up a publication, free or not, you go for the one you know you want. If you read said paper or magazine regularly you have your favorite authors of articles and you know who's been doing it better for longer. You look for what you consider to be of a high quality.

So how does that translate to online media? How does a blogger become known and respected in a world of seemingly infinite possibilities? Will online news publications vie for the best bloggers like newspapers and magazines do with writers?

I mention all this because I am a writer and while I don't want to work for a big news publication, I would enjoy putting my opinions out there to see if anyone is interested in them. I think my brother's favorite part about being a newspaper editor is the editorials he gets to write. He basically gets to read the entirety of the news before we do and form an opinion on it, then offer that opinion to us. I share this drive to offer myself up to people.

In writing fiction you appeal to an audience and hope they like you. Opinions are more freeform and, when constantly offered up, are a more evolving form of exchange than books. It's good to have a little variety. It's also good to have something to work on...

I'm tired.
I'm tired of just getting by. I'm tired of working just enough hours to keep my benefits. What the fuck is the use of having benefits like insurance if you can't pay the co-pay? I'm tired of not being given what I deserve. I'm tired of not being given what I've been told I will receive. I'm tired of passing up other, more lucrative opportunities for what I have now just to do someone a favor. I'm fucking tired of all of it. And I'm not alone...

Today my co-worker and one of my better friends at work, Zach, was telling me that he is probably going to be cutting back his hours because he sees little opportunity for advancement. He bartends at his other job, and makes a damn good amount of money doing it too. Here (at our restaurant) he is a barback. He was, as I understand it, hired under the understanding that he would receive bartender training so that he could either fill in for one of the bartenders if they needed/wanted a shift off or, ideally, be bumped up to full fledged bartender when a spot opened up or was deemed necessary. That was in August. With April knocking on the door he has only bartended a few special events and picked up a few shifts here and there in our bar.

I mention this because I feel the same way. I want to barback. I've been told by both the bar manager, Justin, and the General Manager, David Soos (whom I've worked with before and know fairly well) that I'll get some hours behind the bar. All the bartenders, including one of my best friends Max, have said they'd love to have me back there...

Nothing.

I've told Soos I need to talk to him about it, but he keeps sweeping the issue under the rug and acting like everything is ok. Well while the rug is bulging I'm walking over to another restaurant for a more lucrative deal.

I found out yesterday that the manager at Brit's (the place I've applied, which by best friend Maiya works at) who does the hiring, Andy, is on vacation for a week. I have talked personally to Andy and he said he'll probably hire me and at least give me an interview, so I now know why he hasn't called me. And that's reassuring. So in a week if nothing goes wrong I should have a much more lucrative job.

For you see, Brit's is an English pub, two stories, with a front patio and a large back deck on the second story level, with lawn bowling and umbrellas. Many many people go there and spend money on simple food and alcohol. My job will be much simpler yet much busier, which suits me just fine.

Familiars and Family Members
Last night I had, well I had several dreams that were very vivid, but I have a head cold so they were also kind of choppy and I don't remember all of them.

I remember one dream where I was in a big house and it was very clean, modern, and electronic. I could run and slide along the smooth floors, even swinging around corners, at high speeds. I remember sliding through electronically opening double doors.

In this dream I had a Familiar. A Familiar, in case you didn't know, is kind of like a soul mate in animal form. They are bound to you and you are bound to them. Mine was a medium haired black and gray tabby. She spoke to me but not to anyone else. At one point there was a fire and she helped me warn everyone about it. There was also some sort of quarrel with the owls that lived in our trees and she was there with me for that too.

In another dream there appeared at the end my Grandma Betty and Grandpa Norman (my dad's parents). Also with them was who I though was Norman's mother but apparently turned out to be my mom's grandmother. She told me how she recently got to have real oatmeal like they used to make it back when she was a little girl.

I had a dream about dog sledding, but that got all mixed up as well and I was waking up so I started to take conscious control of it, which generally ruins the creative aspect of a dream.

Finding my familiar and talked to my dead relatives, then waking up, puts me in a strange mood. Finding my familiar is sort of like finding my true love, and seeing my grandparents et al makes me miss them. Both create a sort-of yearning for a world more perfect than the one I'm in right now, where I'm in debt, not happy with the direction my life is headed(or perhaps I should say, the lack of direction in my life), and without the creative social interaction I moved up here for.

And of course add to all of that my sickyness and you get a Tommy in a funk. And not the good kind where I'm dancing the soles off my shoes.

I bought glasses today!

After my lunch shift I had a little over $100 in my wallet, so I cashed my paycheck which was for just over $200 and headed to Moss Optical. I asked if they accepted cash, to which the girl said "yes". (I say 'girl', though she was probably my age. She looked cute but this is a guy without glasses on talking so...). I asked her if they could put lenses in the frame I had (which is the pair I took from my last job's lost and found box when I lost my glasses the last time). She told me they could. I told her that I had $300 in cash on me, I was interested in looking at what she had available, and if I didn't find anything in my price range that I liked I would go with option number 2.

She first asked if I would like for her to see if she could get me my old frames. I told her that would be wonderfull! She proceeded to look up my old glasses, verified with me that they were the same ones as the picture in the catalog, and had me try on a similar pair they had in stock, called the distributor of the frames to make sure they still made them, ordered a pair, and wrote me a receipt for $306!! I gladly forked over my $306 and she said they would be readly on or before Friday and she would give me a call to let me know.

The positive repercussions of this? Well 1. I get my old glasses back. I didn't really want to change it up just yet. 2. I will have them before I'll see my parents this Saturday, and since I told no one in my family what happened they won't have any idea that anything happened at all. last but not least, 3. My insurance pays up to $150 for eyeware so half of it will come back to me in two weeks! And just before my insurance gets reduced by my summer hours too!

So I feel pretty happy about that. And as such, I shall sing the song I have in my head for you:

Oh the wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'. Don't know where I'll be tomorrow...

Advertisement