Unintelligent meanderings

Well, I had something incredibly thought provoking to say. I thought of it while I was working today. I even thought to myself wow, two intelligent posts in as many days. But, alas, it was not meant to be because I forgot what was so memorable. I thought that if I started typing...haha. What I had been typing was "I though that if I started typing, then what I had been thinking would come back to me." Well, lucky for you, it did, right when I was typing that sentence. So, instead of reading something unintelligent, you will get to ponder over these next profound thoughts. A guy came into work today to get his usual coffee. He comes in a couple times a week. He lives just down the block. I over heard him talking one day (about the Twins, believe it or not) and I vaguely mentioned the conversation to my mom. She said she knew who I was talking about. She said he grew up as a really close friend of my uncle. Well, this guy came in today. I started with my customary greeting and then said "Is your name Joe?" (That is what my mom said it was.) He said that it was and we started talking about how he used to hang out with my uncle. He said he thought it was crazy, because he used to be really close to my uncle and then after high school, they just kind of separated. Oh, no, he said, I guess there were the couple years of college, when everyone came home for Thanksgiving. We still hung out then, but once we hit 25, that was it. He went on to ask about my family, where his old friend was now, and what about my other uncle? Doesn't he still live in Hutch? As Joe was getting his coffee he asked if I was still in school. I dutifully responded that I was going to be a Senior. "Oh, so you'll be going through that all this year, huh?" I hope not. Really. I know that hardly anyone ever stays friends after high school, but then what were all those years? I like the friends I have now. I want to keep them. Seriously.

Fake people and how they bug me

I know a lot of people who come into where I work. Some of them I know because they are regulars, some because they are teachers, some are friends of my parents, some are kids at my school. I have to say that one of my biggest pet peeves is fake people. People with their false smiles, their forced laughter, their meaningless conversations. Countless members from my class at school enter to order overpriced coffee. They see me and don their expressions of surprised recognition. "Hey! How have you been?!? How's your summer been going?" they ask, as if they know me, as if they care. What can I do? In my head I think what I want to say. I don't think I've talked to you since 5th grade. And I think that was because we were doing a class project in teacher-picked groups. It is nice that you've taken such an interest in my life. Would you remember my name if it wasn't on my nametag? But, I confess, I could not actually be that mean. I wish I could be though. Then I wouldn't be forced to answer in the sickeningly sweet voice that I hate, with my own smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Hey! I've been really busy working. Haha. Yeah. Oh, my summer is going well. And how's yours going?" even though I don't care. It wouldn't be so bad, I wouldn't mind it near as much, if these people were people who talked to me at school. They don't even have to be my friends. A simple "Hey" would do when we are the only two in the hallway. But these are the same people who I could sit next to in three different classes and they would ignore me. What actually brought this chain of thoughts on was on girl in my class who came in to work the other day. She is in my class, and has been for as long as I can remember. She came in and ordered. She didn't ask questions that she didn't care the answers to. As much as I dislike her (for her morals, actions, etc) I admire the fact that she did not feel the need to act as though she knew me at all. I don't know if I am the only one who thinks this way, who hates artificial people. I am probably the only one who even thinks about it.

Apparently, how I am more apt to trust others before I trust myself

I have a general disposition to trust everyone. It doesn't really matter who. Everyone starts 100% trusted with me. They work their way down, not up. If someone did something that made me lose trust in them, then their percent drops. This plague actually stems from the need to find something good in every person. But, as I learned today, people can't be trusted. No siree. You want trust from me? Take it somewhere else, Bob. From now on, you start at the bottom. You have to build your trust. You do something that is trustworthy, your points go up. Not before. So, I guess you could say I had a general deposition to trust people. So long to that. You may be wondering what brought this on. Well, let me paint you picture. It was a cloudy day, exactly like today, because it was today. It was humid. The door was open at the Larkspur Market, the atmosphere: welcoming. It was about 4:00 pm (for Dylan: 16:00.) It had just started to get busy. We are training new people in there, so it was a little hectic. I waited on a guy (a big guy, 6 feet tall at least, 300 pounds, give or take because I don't know how to tell weight, light brown skin, long straggley black hair, nasty body odor) who had a red shirt on. He ordered two scoops of ice cream, to go, in a dish. Lori, my manager, set his ice cream down on the counter and went to wait on someone else. I took his money. He paid me in a one hundred dollar bill. (On a side note, don't you hate people who pay for something that cost $2 with such big bills?) I counted out his change in my hand, twice. I always count it twice to myself before I hand it over. As I started counting it out in his hand, he waved me off and just took it. Whatever, I thought to myself. I assumed he watched me count it in my hand, so he knew it was all there. He then asked for a lid for his bowl of ice cream. Being the helpful person I am, I went to get it for him. "There you go," I replied cheerfully, as I handed him his lid. "Have a nice day." I'll bet he had a nice day, the jerk. After he got his stupid lid he said I short changed him forty dollars. That put me on the spot a little, so I momentarily froze. I didn't know what to do. I knew I gave him the right amount. I counted it. Twice. By then Lori came back and asked what the problem was. I obligingly told her and she had me give him forty more dollars. Being the trustworthy idiot I am, I did, without a fuss, after all, I probably made a mistake. It was busy, I was flustered. Mistakes happen. He left. We finished our rush. I went to talk to Lori. I'm not stupid. I know the difference between forty dollars and eighty. Hello? If I did short change him, it would not have been by forty dollars. Twenty, maybe, but not forty. Well, anyway, to make a long story short. I was right. I gave him the right amount of change the first time. He walked away with and extra $37.86 and a free double scoop Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream, the dirty animal. The police came and questioned us about him, after Lori counted out the till and realized that we got jipped. I feel like an idiot. Seriously, why didn't I trust my gut enough to know, right away, that he was lying? He slipped the two twenties in his pocket while my back was turned and then said I short changed him. Me and my stupid "Everyone is good, they can all be trusted" motto for life. Darn it. That is still my stupid motto, too. I still trust everyone. (Obviously within reason. I won't get into a stranger's car etc, etc.) You can take it somewhere else, Bob, if you want to, but I will still trust you. You can hoodwink me. I will fall for it, because I believe you are an honest person.

Dream Big

Dream Big
Ryan Shupe & The Rubberband

When you cry, be sure to dry your eyes,
'Cause better days are sure to come.
And when you smile, be sure to smile wide,
And don't let them know that they have won.
And when you walk, walk with pride,
And don't show the hurt inside,
Because the pain sill soon be gone.

And when you dream, dream big,
As big as the ocean, blue.
'Cause when you dream it might come true.
But when you dream, dream big.

And when you laugh, be sure to laugh out loud,
'Cause it will carry all your cares away.
And when you see, see the beauty all around and in yourself,
And it will help you feel okay.
And when you pray, pray for strength to help to carry on,
But when the troubles come your way.

And when you dream, dream big,
As big as the ocean, blue.
'Cause when you dream it might come true.
But when you dream, dream big.

When you cry be sure to dry your eyes,
cause better days are sure to come.
And when you smile be sure to smile wide,
and don't let them know that they have won.
And when you laugh be sure to laugh out loud,
'Cause it will carry all your cares away.
And when you see, see the beauty all around and in yourself,
and it will help you feel okay.
And when you pray, pray for strength
to help to carry on when the troubles come your way.

Still slightly procrastinating

I have decided what I want to be for the rest of my life. I am going to be a stress level manager. I will help people with their stresses. This is definalty an issue present in the world, and if not in the world, then definatly in high school. I am going to be bold here and talk about certian situations. For example, I have one friend who has almost no time to herself because she is pushing herself in a lot of different directions. I can tell that she is really stresses, for one, by the was she was practically crying today when I saw her. I wish she would be more open to opening up to other people. I want to help (hence my career path). I happen to have another friend who puts just as much pressure on herself, though a little less visibally. I don't even think I realized how much pressure she put on herself. Don't get me wrong, pressure is good (without Russia would we have went to the moon?) but to much pressure will blow a valve, or rip off skin, or cause a heart attack. Trust me, I know. So, if anyone needs to talk about anything, you know my number. I promise to honor doctor-patient privacy privlages, or whatever.

Ambitiousness and how it disappeared

Well, it all started about 8:30 this morning. I got up, went through my sites, listened to the latest installment of the podcast, and set to work. I had a meeting with Mr. B. at ten so before that I finished filling out my passport stuff and got a letter ready to mail. I fixed my schedule and applied for my passport ($97!). I helped Kris with her blog and then met with my girl scout leader to discuss my gold award. Then I had a girl scout meeting, then I went to work. As I type this, I realize that it is not near as impressive as it sounded in my head. I was thinking to myself, "Well, Sam, just because after work you didn't really feel like finishing some things on you Gold Award project, you still got a lot done today." Only, I really didn't. And now, at 22:30, I still have to finish up that stuff. I am postponing it by doing this. I will double check all of my sites before I even start. Actually by the time I finish it will be midnight. If I finish.

Things I like about rain

The way it falls

The way it smells

The way it gives life

The way it forms puddles

The way it feels on my skin

The way it makes my hair wet

The way it shines on the ground

The way it sounds on the windows

The way it looks, when I look straight up at it

The way it blurs light when it is on my windshield

The way it can be dreary one minute and beautiful the next

Hopelessly Lost

Okay, I am in a very depressed mood right now. (Sorry Dylan. You are trying to talk to me about Peter Pan.) In the last hour I have been wondering around Internet job sites and taking online personality tests. Nothing seems to be working. In fact, instead of being closer to knowing what I want to do with the rest of my life, I am even less sure! GRRR! I don't want to make a decision that I am not going to be happy with ten years from now. What I like to do has little options (e.i. History, English) besides teaching. Kudos to you who are teachers, but it is not for me. And of the jobs that are out there, there is limited availability. For example, I would like to work on Broadway, doing techie stuff, you know, but how many of them do they really need? And I don't want to go to school to be a techie. I'm not a computer geek. I don't know squat about computers. I wish I was more outgoing, and I liked being around people. I want a doctorate, but that is even worse, because then you are so specialized it is unbelievable. I already know I don't want to be a doctor, partly from an extreme detest for hospitals and partly from an overall dislike of Science. Then what? Law? Okay, I'll concede interest, but still there is the I am not outgoing factor. I don't even know if I would be smart enough for a doctorate program. I have a tendency to collect information and then throw it away when it is no longer needed. In fact, that's the story of half my high school career. This is why I don't want to grow up. This is why I detest decision making. This is why I just want to be a student forever. I wonder how much I would have to pay someone to make these decisions for me. Curses upon people who ask the unanswerable questions. Do you know what schools are you interested in? Do you know what you want to go into?Do you know what types of careers appeal to you? No, thank you and good night.

Home

MICHAEL BUBLE "Home"

Another summer day

Has come and gone away

In Paris and Rome

But I wanna go home

Mmmmmmmm

Maybe surrounded by

A million people I

Still feel all alone

I just wanna go home

Oh I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you

Each one a line or two

“I’m fine baby, how are you?”

Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough

My words were cold and flat

And you deserve more than that

Another aeroplaneA

nother sunny place

I’m lucky I know

But I wanna go home

Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home

I’m just too far from where you are

I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life

It’s like I just stepped outside

When everything was going right

And I know just why you could not

Come along with me

But this was not your dream

But you always believed in me

Another winter day has come

And gone away

And even Paris and Rome

And I wanna go home

Let me go home

And I’m surrounded by

A million people I

Still feel alone

Oh, let me go home

Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home

I’ve had my runBaby, I’m doneI gotta go home

Let me go home

It will all be allright

I’ll be home tonightI’m coming back home

I love this song.

Catch 22

I don't care what Audrey or Kaia say. I really liked Catch 22. I finished it this morning. I even want to read it again. There are so many things in the pages that you can't catch the first time you read it. So many hidden things, themes, clues. It is torturing me. Especially since right now I can't ponder over it because I have to go to work. The book made me laugh and cry. But not cry with actual tears, because on the next page I would laugh again. There are so many things in the text that I just can't put my finger on exactly what they are. Darn it! I know this is rambling post, but it is because I don't know what I want to say and I am in a hurry. Maybe I will repost this later.

Silent as the grave

Haha, I was cleaning out the files on my computer and I came across this. I know I posted something like this a while ago, but still. There are some more too, that in hindsight are actually somewhat amusing. I guess I had a journal on my computer before I started this.

July 17, 2004 (though I actually thought of this a long time ago)
Silent as the Grave
What is silence, really? Can you tell me? Have you heard it, or rather, not? Think hard. When was the last time you have been in complete silence? Can you even remember? No? Me neither.
There is always something. Even now, with the radio off, I can hear the slight buzz of the computer and the droan of the vents above me. And if it wasn’t that it’d be something else. The cars driving by outside, the dog down the street, a family member a floor above me.
Can you think of any times? When you plug your ears is it silent? No, it isn’t. You can either hear what is around you, just a little muted, or this other weird sound, like the ocean.
I sometimes wonder what its like to be deaf. The barely audible creak on the stairs or typing keys would sound like an explosion to someone who has never heard anything and suddenly could.
In a way, I’d be afraid of complete silence. I’d be afraid that had gone deaf, even if it only lasted a little while. I would think something was wrong, defiantly. But I’d also have this unreal excitement, if it was totally, utterly silent. Where you actually could hear a pin drop.

Ghosts and such

While I was immersing myself in Frankenstein last week I came across something that stuck in my mind. "In my education my father had taken the greatest precautions that my mind should be impressed with no supernatural horrors. I do not even remember to have trembled at a tale of superstition, or to have feared the apparition of a spirit. Darkness had no effect upon my fancy; and a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of beauty and strength, had become food for the worm." I was thinking of this and wondering if it really worked that way. Sometimes when I am in a graveyard, respectfully visiting the site of someone who has gone before me, I can't help but shiver as I feel a cool wind or the whispering of nearby trees. I don't immediately jump to the conclusion that is must be a ghost, but it lingers in the back of my mind. You could say I am superstitious. I do ritual things, (no, not like cult rituals). Just like the same things over and over when they produce good results. Like using a certain pencil on an exam. And I guess you could say I believe in ghosts, but I've never seen one. But I'm not afraid of the dark. Unless, I guess, when I am outside, alone. But even then it isn't a fear of the supernatural. It is the fear of a man hiding in the shadows ready to attack me. I was just thinking that if people were brought up not even knowing about supernatural things would they even notice that something is supernatural? Would they attribute a sudden freezing chill all through their body to something completely natural, and not think that there was a possibility that the ghost that lives in the attic just walked through them? I will go as far as to say are ghost real, or just a figment of the imaginations that believe in them?

Bad tippers and how they bug me

I don't even work at a resturante where I am allowed to accept tips. My grandma and mom are awful tippers. I don't even think they know they are bad tippers! But how do you say, "Hey, put more money on the table"? How do you say that? Maybe they just can't do the math. The bill comes out to about $50 so they leave about $3 tip. Now, I know that 10% of $50 if $5. As they should be leaving at least a five dollar tip, if not more, because places are pushing the 15% gratuity thing. I think they can do the ten percent thing, they just don't think about it. I wish they would though, it is embarrasing.

He he he...

BOOOOO! You're it!
[Harry]"Why? I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low, or are you telling me he's going to jump out from behind a dustbin to try and do me in?" (OotP, UK edition, p. )

The ups and downs of my day

Up: I woke up and was in a good mood.
Up: I had time to read some funny things online before heading out for a day of softball
Up: I found (and found on time) the place I was supposed to meet my team at.
Down: The ump made us take of all of our jewelry. This included the good luck bracelet.
Up: I was sneaky and tied it to my ankle.
Down: Sometime during the first game I slid into a base and scraped up my leg.
Down: Also during the first game I got nailed in the arm with a pitch. It really really hurt. I have a bruise.
Up: We won that game.
Up: I got to relax for an hour, lying in the shade reading a book.
Down: That book was homework.
Up: The part I read was humorous.
Down: I started to get tired.
Down: In the second game the girl at second base had the ball so I tried to run around her only she took out my legs with her tag and I sprained my ankle. That really, really, really hurt. Worse than the bruise.
Down: I got tagged out.
Down: Now I limp.
Up: I managed to hold back the tears.
Up: I played I was okay and got to stay in the game.
Down: It really hurt to run.
Up: We won that game too.
Up: That meant we went to the championship game.
Up: I didn't get hurt during that game.
Down: My ankle really hurt, though.
Up: My arm didn't hurt anymore.
Down: We lost the championship game.
Up: We put up a good fight and the score was tied until the seventh.
Up: We got consolation medals. Big ones.
Up: I got named an All-star. I got a sweet plaque. It is big too.
Down: I misspelled plaque as plague.
Up: I corrected it.
Down: After playing three games today, I am exhausted.
Down: I had to say good bye to my cousins who are going to live with their mom for the school year.
Up: I get to spend a (hopefully) quite evening at home enjoying my French Silk Blizzard from the Dairy Queen.

Whoa who!

Oh sweet mother of good fortune! As I endeavored to start reading the daunting text of Catch 22 I open the cover and lo and behold I found two (2) five dollar bills! How they got there I know not, but now I can say I am ten dollars richer!

Tick, tick, tick.

As I sit hear, listening to the mercilessly loud ticking of my watch, I know, even before I have finished typing the first sentence, that I have nothing of real importance to say. Tick, tick, tick. The noise is taking over my mind, making me feel as though I am victim of some kind of reversed Chinese Water torture. I permit myself to peer around at my surroundings and find myself staring at the enraged face on the cover of Frankenstein. It is calling me into it's unusual pages. The monster's yellow eye is beckoning me, crying out for me to finish the last ten chapters so that I can find out if Frankenstein's "destiny," "his ruin," his overall "destruction," really are as bad as he is foreshadowing them to be. Tick, tick. It has come to the point in the book where the monster is telling Frankenstein a story, who is telling the story that the monster is telling him inside of his own story about his destiny, ruin, and overall destruction to another man (who's name is Robert), who is writing it all down so that he can tell his sister. Tick. I'm sure that soon the monster will begin telling Frankenstein a story that Felix told him so then it will go Felix, Monster, Frank, Robert, Sister, in order of story telling. I smiled to myself when I read the name Felix. I smiled also when I read about the philosopher's stone and the elixir of life. Tick, tick. Alas, I can resist no longer, the pages of the twisted story are drawing me in. Tick.

Colleges and how they keep sending my applications

I participated in Minnesota Private College week for a couple of reasons, one being the application fee waivers. For taking part I got four (4) fee waivers. If you don't know what that is (though, I am sure you do) it is when it doesn't cost you to apply. It usually cost about $40. Well, like I said I got four waivers that are good for any private college in Minnesota. To get these I had to visit three different colleges. Now, wouldn't it make since that I use the waivers for the colleges I visited? The thing is, now I don't have to. Two (2) of the colleges I visited have sent me applications with their own application fee waived. It was stamped right on the application. And one of the colleges sent me two (2!) applications, each with it's own fee waiver. What was the point of getting the fee waivers then? Now I have to find four colleges to send an application to that I didn't even visit just to use them. And they are non-transferable. So I can't give them to anyone else. Oh, well, I suppose I will manage.