From the horse's mouth. Unlikely to ever happen, ever, but amazing to see regardless.
"As President, John Kerry will ensure that every high school student in America performs community service as a requirement for graduation. This service will be a rite of passage for our nation’s youth and will help foster a lifetime of service. States would design service programs that meet their community and educational needs. However, John Kerry does not believe in unfunded mandates. No state would be obligated to implement a service requirement if the federal government does not live up to its obligation to fund the program."
I just talked to the credit people. Let's just say they were less than happy with me, and apparently not so eager to deal with me - regardless of how much I pay them. Although I feel bad that this puts me in a bad spot, I don't feel bad at all for them. I'm a little shocked that there was nearly no effort to try to warn me of the impending disaster or of the degree of said disaster.
At any rate, it's possible by week's end I'll have fixed everything. There's a lot to be said for speaking calmly and politely.
Today was the day I went broke. Not the flexible semi-broke of a man with credit or investments, but rather the cold hard broke that only a grumbling, gnawing hunger can signal. One dollar and twenty cents is in my pocket right now, and there's ten more in the bank, if I choose to go in there and suffer the unendurable embarassment of filling out a withdrawal slip for such a pittance.
The total of my outstanding debts flirts with gaining an unwanted fifth decimal place, and I've become an it's-in-the-mail lackey. Thousands outstanding, from whichever angle one might view it, yet the cold concrete that is the absence of cash is a far more successful negociator with my hunger than the promise of future funds.
As I reach for resources, my internet connection, my cell phone, my USENET account, my VISA card, and so on, I'm rebuffed with non-payment ruler-slaps from the Mother Superior my debt has become. You knew better, she says. I shouldn't have to do this to you, she tut-tuts. It is this erosion of my life that creates a dizzying riptide of fears and judgements, an emotional landscape that is often as difficult for others to ignore as it is for me to endure.
Providence has been my guardian as well as my response to inquisitive minds, helpful and cynical alike. It is a sense of confidence and optimism that I find when I swish through my murky anxieties, peering as if for lost pennies. In my state, perhaps not even as if. Providence is simply there, and I no more create it than I rely on it. For the past year I've felt hope's big brother, and to find salvation now, at my greatest moment of need, in the form of a high-paying job, coming from somewhere I never would have guessed leaves me with an unavoidable view.
Ultimately, I may not believe in god, but currently I'm finding it rather hard to feel that he doesn't believe in me.
If the ends don't justify the means, do the means justify the ends?
Intentions, results. Results, judgements. Judgements, decisions. Decisions, intentions?
Some people call me a masochist. I prefer to think of it as not wanting to be surprised by pain.
What if you finally get a job, know that you'll get out of debt soon and likely be set up financially in short order, and see a successful life path open up in front of you - but your heart knows it's not the right thing for you?
What if you endure the bad times and enjoy the good ones, but you have no one to share them with? What if there is no one to share them with?
What if the Iraq War is truly lost and there is a Vietnam 2? Will the anti-war people care about what happens after that?
What if you love someone unreservedly and unyieldingly, but you come to realize they are simply not the one for you?
What if Bush wins in November? What if Kerry wins? What if there is a second nuclear war? What if there isn't?
Ok, this marks a solid week of bad dreams. At least when I was having nightmares they were invigorating. Nothing gets your heart pumping like fighting for your sanity against Dark You. Give me the old days, where I could be smothered in the flesh of dead relatives, or the flashcube excitement of waking up into a new nightmare again and again. This sullen business of shadowy men following me or hackneyed lost love stomach-twisters is sissy stuff.
Where's Freddy Krueger when you need 'im?
As per my gypsy curse, I've been feeling very lonely and dispirited. There are a bunch of checks notoriously in the mail, but they do little to console my bank account. For the past week I've been eating slightly better, which is to say I ordered a pizza with my off-and-on VISA card and have been picking at it for days like a neurotic ghoul. My phone isn't acting right. It doesn't ring when it's supposed to and today it decided to pick up a call all by itself. Unfortunately, the call wasn't from who it should be. Neither were the people at my door. The people I need are never there when I need them, and are airplane-seat close when I don't. It's not their fault, it's the gypsy curse at work.
For those who are new to the site, feeling lonely and dispirited is typical. Nothing so mundane would require the mystical powers of a gypsy. Getting my formidable array of friends to be perpetually out of synch with my mercurial feelings?
Yeah, you can smell the incense and the tickle of fingers lifting your wallet already.
It's coming up on 1AM. I bought some sleeping pills today because I haven't been able to get any rest for the past week, but apparently the power of the curse extends to pharmaceuticals; I'm exhausted for no good reason and I'm going to bed. Goodnight.
Sometimes life sets things up to work in sequence, like the phrase 'having your ducks lined up' explains, but there is no indication of which side of fortune you're going to find yourself on. In my case, less ducks and more 'tragic series of events'. After a bunch of bad things happened that put me in the perfect vulnerable mindset, I connected to my ex-gf's blog for solace. She had written two very long posts. One was an extremely explicit description of her recent sexual experiences and the other was about her missing the boyfriend she had after me, and why.
I've had the misfortune of being suckerpunched quite a few times, and often in my groceries; spending any time at all foetal on the floor relearning how to breathe is not a recommended experience. Reading that stuff was the mentamotional equivalent. Some things are better left unsaid, and some things are better off unread. In this case, what normally would have been something I would have been wistful and maybe a little sad about is preying on me like the phantoms of yore. I'll get over it, but I'd rather not have to.
I really, really, really wish I hadn't read that. Moreover, I really, really, really wish I could unread it.
That said, I really, really, really need some good sleep.
The latest and greatest spam filter, MT-Blacklist, is now installed and working. This means everyone can now go hog-wild with comments, just like before.
I'd also like to add that today is 9/11.
Killing time at Bangme.net, I came across this profile and slightly damaged my brain reading it. People like this really do exist! Amazing
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It's very likely that soon I will be disabling my comment system. I get something on the order of 40-50 comment spam messages a day now, and the result is that I can't even make out a legitimate comment from the viagra ads. The spammers have recently gotten creative enough to make their 'comments' come from normal-sounding names and contain normal-sounding messages, so it's just too much of a pain to delete them selectively.
Hopefully my de-spammer will come out with an update so I can install it and return to the land of the spam-free, but until then don't expect to see your comments show up.
The Kerry and Edwards kids are on CSPAN talking to university students about the campaign. Struck me as preaching to the converted, but so it goes.
They keep saying "politicized" as in "9/11 should not be politicized" or "protecting the environment shouldn't be politicized" and I'm struck by how mind-bending saying things like that is. They are in a political forum, talking about a political campaign, being asked political questions - and most importantly discussing issues that truly affect and influence people, or to put it another way, political issues!
I think if you have a mic in your hand and you're not rapping, you shouldn't talk much about the thing you're talking about being politicized, unless you plan on shutting up right afterwards.
I urge my readers to help the victims of the Beslan School terrorist attack. It will make an immediate difference.
Ariana Huffington is a chirping, chattering idiot. I just had to say that.
With a sense of wonder and childlike helplessness I see you
unsure of myself, who I am or what I'm feeling, I reach out for you
when I touch you, when I feel you, I'm discovering myself in you
You see me and see through me. You feel me and touch me and I die a little bit and surrender
you're forever foreign to me, a mystery of mutual design
I want you and hate you and love you and cannot tolerate another moment of you but you, you, you and more
where am I but you
so I reach again and touch myself. looking deep into myself and deeper I see you watching
I'm closer to you and never close enough
I'm with you and am you and curse you for being me but love you so much
such are we
If you have extra gmail accounts, you can donate them to our servicemen (who are apparently languishing with hotmail or yahoo accounts) through Gmail4Troops.
Consider dropping by Spirit of America as well, if you're feeling extra generous.