Achieving the remoterate distinctory possibiliation.

I am about to put in a movie to pass out to in the first night at my new apartment. Woohoo! I looked in my fridge and found a bottle of V8, butter, hot dogs, bologna, mayonnaise, pickles, leftover hot and sour soup from Chinese delivery, and a bottle of water.

Oh, it appears that I'm already settled in nicely.

Punctuated Progress

I decided to sit in front of the fan for a few minutes and take a breather, as I'm currently in the process of moving. My new place is seriously going to be a palace compared to where I've been living, and the best part of all is that I won't have roommates anymore. For some odd reason, over the past few years I find that people tend to build non-verbalized expectations around me and then try to punish me when I don't anticipate and fulfill them. In this last case, I began to find that I was in trouble for things I not only wasn't doing, but also the things that I did do. Unfortunately, when I made the effort to discuss the situation and hopefully resolve it, I was met instead with an ultimatum. No, that's not right, it was more of a decree passed down by royalty. In doing so, I was left with an unanswered attack on my character and no discourse that would allow all of us to possibly see the other's perspective, or at the very least, save a friendship.

Ok, in a quick aside, I have to give an overview of this absurd attack on my character. For being asked to do a favor, which I did, I was informed that I was "extremely selfish" with a condescending look. The favor: to cook dinner, which I came through on so far as to buy all the food and prepare it all myself. Why I'm selfish: I didn't ask when they wanted it cooked for them. Yup, that appears to be it, but of course, I wasn't honored with the dignity of any further explanation. When I brought it up again later and denied the accusation, I was scoffed at, which should apparently have convinced me of my guilt. So I said, "Ok, explain to me how that is selfish. Convince me," to which I was answered simply, "It's debatable," and then he walked away. Yes, it was a crushing defeat, as the superior intellect apparently doesn't have to justify flagrant accusations when they know they're right.

For intelligent people that consider themselves "enlightened", I find the behavior unbelievable, and if I weren't so disgusted with them and the situation, I would be a bit ashamed for them. As with many people that I have absolutely no respect for, things basically degraded to the point where I stopped talking to them and we were happy to ignore each other. I'm assuming the oppressive atmosphere that resulted is why they have left for the weekend, allowing me to take my time getting my things together and have probably the most relaxed move I can remember. I will now take this last opportunity to offer them a heartfelt thanks for the disappearing act, because I can't foresee any conversation or light banter in the future. If I were to verbalize anything, it would probably sound more like "Fuck you."

I have to copy/paste what I wrote a while ago in the "About Me" section of my facebook page. It seems to be ringing truer all the time.

When you first met me, I might've seemed aloof and one of the biggest assholes you've ever met. After a while, I might suddenly transform into the nicest guy you've ever met. After a couple years, I'll probably find a way to reattain my original status.

Heh.

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Disclaimer: After becoming a student of creative writing, one of my roommates gave me permission to use anything from the house as subject matter for my writing. Well, there you go, and thanks again. I'll be sure to remember that.

You mean they sell refried beans and cheese already mixed?!?

Listen closely, this is important. When it is so cold that you're standing there hugging yourself over the top of your huge coat for warmth yet still don't notice that your shorts have fallen off because your legs are so numb, it's probably a good idea to wear pants.

I just learned this in my dream last night. I wish I could remember the rest of it, because I'm assuming it would have been entertaining. I'm just surprised and happy that I can recall any of it, because my dreams don't like to be remembered. Truly, this is a day for celebrating life. And the pursuit of, uhm, dreams.

Rednecks loves 'em them whip antennea.

I was actually listening to the radio as I was driving earlier today. This is something I don't normally do, considering I'm not usually in my car long enough to hear more than one song per trip, so I don't even bother listening to the crap that some demographic study has decided would be the most popular and draw the most ad revenue in that particular listening area. As it so happens, I had a couple miles to go, so I turned up the volume and caught a commercial break. The first commercial played was using an emotionally charged narrative of a father describing in a passionate voice how he had "put his son in a salvaged vehicle" that had caused another accident. It was almost disturbing how mad he sounded, as if he would beat down the person he bought the car from if he ever saw him again.

Now, a couple commercials later, there's an ad for an auto repair place, and their angle was that some guy had an accident and they fixed it so that it looked like nothing had ever happened to the car. The background singers from the jingle said something at the end about "What accident?" to which he answers, "Right," in a sly, nudge nudge, wink wink voice.

I hate marketing.