Marc
The Library Clacks Along I'm always so self-conscious about posting from the library because I always feel like I'm pounding on the keys and everyone's paying attention to me, which, in turn, turns into this crazy game where I try to hide the screen, because I don't necessarily want people to see what I'm writing.***1*** So, forgive me if this it seems like I'm holding back a little. I probably am. Public places. I don't necessarily like them very much.
February, indeed, is probably the worst month on the planet, with the exception of the second week in May, which is by far my least favorite week of all-time. One, that week always finds me moving somewhere, and two, because of this, I always end up homeless for at least a couple of days. This year might actually be much less painful than last year as I think I only have a two day homeless span, though, still, when it comes right down to it, being homeless just kind of stinks all around. Except, now that I think about it, for all the hospitality you can scrounge up from people that feel bad for you, like my parents, who always take the whole "homeless" routine quite well and offer me shelter and free food for as long as I need it.
But February's begin the long streak of worthless Sunday's. During the football season there is something to wake up for, something to breathe in when you open your eyes. Beer. Food -- usually pizza. Screaming and yelling, and even though the Bears were less-than spectacular (read: unBEARable) this season, it doesn't mean that we didn't all end up on our tailbones on the edge of the couch for at least five minutes every game with some kind of hope in our hearts, waiting patiently for a win.
I believe that's why the Super Bowl may be such a large event -- it marks the end of a long string of weekends to look forward to. Now, Sundays will turn into days that lag along, slowly, creeping at most points. They will be the hours between hangovers and schoolwork for me, at least. I just want something to think about on Sundays ... besides how behind I will be if I don't stop goofing off and don't climb all over my homework and papers at once.***2***
Now, for all you haters out there, take note -- hating five people is not enough. You have to have at least twenty people on your list. Mix it up. I mean, seriously, how much time can you spend just hating five people? I used to have a list in the back of the phone book two years ago when myself, Zach, Rick, and Scooter used to live together that read like a "hit list", if you will. I mean, yeah, there were one or two locals on there, but that gets too hard in the long run. You need to have hatreds that will last. For example, I put Sisqo (sp?), the singer, on the top of the list as it was about around the time of his "thong-th-thong-thong-thong" song. It was a hatred that fed my fire for about six months. Good, solid hate spewing out of all ends. Next was Bill Walton, who I am proud to say, is still pissing me off, though much less as I've not been keeping up on my basketball scores. Sometimes I would like to think that John Madden's terrible gametime banter has somewhat replaced Walton's idiot remarks about how everyone in the NBA, no matter who they are, does something better than everyone else in the history of the game! But then I sit back and think, "you know Madden's just an old fart" and calm down a bit. Others included the likes of Rick Fox (LA Lakers), John Tesh (singer/television personality), that guy from the orange cleaning thingy infomercials whose whole plan of attack is to basically browbeat you into buying his product, though he's since been relegated to non-hate status because, quite frankly, the whole browbeating thing is kind of cool to watch in a totally "I have nothing else to do, so why not watch this guy yell at the camera for twenty minutes" type way. There were more, I'm sure, but none that I can recall off the top of my head.
Here's how I live my life -- hate as many people as you possibly can. Pass judgements on people that you've never met, that you see from across the bar, the cafeteria, etc. Just hate everyone, if you're so inclined. Sure, it makes it harder to make friends, and going out in public gets difficult after a while cause there's always people there talking about how you hate them, but it really whittles down your solid relationships to those that you know, for sure, you don't hate. I mean, you may only have about two or three friends, but you're certain that those two or three people could never do things that will make you hate them. You'll be too busy, quite frankly, hating everyone else but them, which, to me, is the most solid foundation for friendships.***3***
***1*** at least until its finished and up on the web and I'm out of the room like a broken broom.
***2*** And, for those of you keeping score at home, I feel much better about this whole library/writing thing as some guy's cellphone just went off three seats over, one row up, and he actually (fucking!) answered it, and is talking on it ... in a normal voice. This blows my mind. I get embarrassed talking on the phone to anyone, mostly, even when I'm sitting in my own living room surrounded by my roommates. To see someone talk in a crowded computer lab where, quite literally (and, no, I'm not using it in the way that David Cross deemed incorrect) no one is talking, just blows me out of the water. How weird.
***3*** Disclaimer: None of the above "hate" section is actually true. Except for the whole "hit list" thing ... and the part, maybe, about me only having two friends ... and some other stuff. Damn. Why does everybody hate me?
The Library Clacks Along I'm always so self-conscious about posting from the library because I always feel like I'm pounding on the keys and everyone's paying attention to me, which, in turn, turns into this crazy game where I try to hide the screen, because I don't necessarily want people to see what I'm writing.***1*** So, forgive me if this it seems like I'm holding back a little. I probably am. Public places. I don't necessarily like them very much.
February, indeed, is probably the worst month on the planet, with the exception of the second week in May, which is by far my least favorite week of all-time. One, that week always finds me moving somewhere, and two, because of this, I always end up homeless for at least a couple of days. This year might actually be much less painful than last year as I think I only have a two day homeless span, though, still, when it comes right down to it, being homeless just kind of stinks all around. Except, now that I think about it, for all the hospitality you can scrounge up from people that feel bad for you, like my parents, who always take the whole "homeless" routine quite well and offer me shelter and free food for as long as I need it.
But February's begin the long streak of worthless Sunday's. During the football season there is something to wake up for, something to breathe in when you open your eyes. Beer. Food -- usually pizza. Screaming and yelling, and even though the Bears were less-than spectacular (read: unBEARable) this season, it doesn't mean that we didn't all end up on our tailbones on the edge of the couch for at least five minutes every game with some kind of hope in our hearts, waiting patiently for a win.
I believe that's why the Super Bowl may be such a large event -- it marks the end of a long string of weekends to look forward to. Now, Sundays will turn into days that lag along, slowly, creeping at most points. They will be the hours between hangovers and schoolwork for me, at least. I just want something to think about on Sundays ... besides how behind I will be if I don't stop goofing off and don't climb all over my homework and papers at once.***2***
Now, for all you haters out there, take note -- hating five people is not enough. You have to have at least twenty people on your list. Mix it up. I mean, seriously, how much time can you spend just hating five people? I used to have a list in the back of the phone book two years ago when myself, Zach, Rick, and Scooter used to live together that read like a "hit list", if you will. I mean, yeah, there were one or two locals on there, but that gets too hard in the long run. You need to have hatreds that will last. For example, I put Sisqo (sp?), the singer, on the top of the list as it was about around the time of his "thong-th-thong-thong-thong" song. It was a hatred that fed my fire for about six months. Good, solid hate spewing out of all ends. Next was Bill Walton, who I am proud to say, is still pissing me off, though much less as I've not been keeping up on my basketball scores. Sometimes I would like to think that John Madden's terrible gametime banter has somewhat replaced Walton's idiot remarks about how everyone in the NBA, no matter who they are, does something better than everyone else in the history of the game! But then I sit back and think, "you know Madden's just an old fart" and calm down a bit. Others included the likes of Rick Fox (LA Lakers), John Tesh (singer/television personality), that guy from the orange cleaning thingy infomercials whose whole plan of attack is to basically browbeat you into buying his product, though he's since been relegated to non-hate status because, quite frankly, the whole browbeating thing is kind of cool to watch in a totally "I have nothing else to do, so why not watch this guy yell at the camera for twenty minutes" type way. There were more, I'm sure, but none that I can recall off the top of my head.
Here's how I live my life -- hate as many people as you possibly can. Pass judgements on people that you've never met, that you see from across the bar, the cafeteria, etc. Just hate everyone, if you're so inclined. Sure, it makes it harder to make friends, and going out in public gets difficult after a while cause there's always people there talking about how you hate them, but it really whittles down your solid relationships to those that you know, for sure, you don't hate. I mean, you may only have about two or three friends, but you're certain that those two or three people could never do things that will make you hate them. You'll be too busy, quite frankly, hating everyone else but them, which, to me, is the most solid foundation for friendships.***3***
***1*** at least until its finished and up on the web and I'm out of the room like a broken broom.
***2*** And, for those of you keeping score at home, I feel much better about this whole library/writing thing as some guy's cellphone just went off three seats over, one row up, and he actually (fucking!) answered it, and is talking on it ... in a normal voice. This blows my mind. I get embarrassed talking on the phone to anyone, mostly, even when I'm sitting in my own living room surrounded by my roommates. To see someone talk in a crowded computer lab where, quite literally (and, no, I'm not using it in the way that David Cross deemed incorrect) no one is talking, just blows me out of the water. How weird.
***3*** Disclaimer: None of the above "hate" section is actually true. Except for the whole "hit list" thing ... and the part, maybe, about me only having two friends ... and some other stuff. Damn. Why does everybody hate me?
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