Emo post is emo.

I know I would miss my life as I know it, but I really hope this whole thing works out.  Because I'm feeling pretty stuck again and I'd really like a change of scenery.  And maybe... just maybe... this would give it to me often enough that I wouldn't feel like I'm a total wreck that's going nowhere all the time.  ALL THE TIME.  But I'm also acutely aware of the possibility that this opportunity will work out just fine for him, but not for me.  Yes, that probably means exactly what you're thinking it means.  Another day, another irrational fear to battle.

I just want to be happy, but that seems like such a fucking chore right now that it doesn't even make me happy being happy.  I feel like kicking my own ass until I get up and start moving again.  It's time to start in on the next thing.  Can't stop now.  No time for a breather.  I can't make a profile.  PRESS A! PRESS A!  (I need to find that video again, it was hilarious)  But I don't really know what to do yet moving forward.  So, I plan as well as possible and hope for the best.  Something serendipitous is bound to fall into my lap one of these days.  I just have to be patient.  Though I've never been a patient person.  Just tell me it'll be ok.

Also, Lord help me, I'm thinking about buying a Mac. 

With Love,
Tank

Bleh. I caught something awful. It's invaded my lungs and my nose and sinus cavities. It is pretty much everywhere and I'm going to call in sick tomorrow. My supervisor knows and won't be surprised. I just want to get more than 4 hours of sleep. ... please? I want to lay in bed and sip tea and down mass quantities of Robotussin DM. I want you to sit by my side and sing me songs that make my heart smile. Like She's an Angel. I can't help getting one of those lopsided smiles whenever you sing this. It makes me feel happy that you think you're lucky to have me. Because these things happen to other people. They don't happen at all, in fact.

I sat down in front of the tv when I woke up tonight and a story about Billy Mays came on. I said what I usually say when I see Billy Mays on tv which is "KILL IT WITH FIRE!" And that's when Admiral and Grunge saw fit to tell me that Billy Mays had, in fact, died. I feel awful now... a little dirty. It's scary, you know, when all the icons I thought would live forever... or at least for another 20 or so years have started dropping like flies.

Also, I wanted to show love for the comic Drop of Fuel, because I love any artist who shares my philosophy on inking pens.  If you find a fine line Sharpie in the cushions it means you don't have to walk down to the Hobby Lobby. ...p.s. pop culture references abound.  Fo shizz.

-TANK

You know... I'm not a huge fan of Rage Against or anything, but I'm in love with the lyrics to the song Survive.

I've been away a while. Nothing really interesting has happened... I suppose. I'm really just trying to sleep through most of my days so that my vacation (which I have taken to calling vakashun tiemz) will come faster, or at least seem to. I'm not going to go into all of what's gone on in the last couple of days, because... like I said... it's been a lot of work and sleep. But I've got a few gems to share with you.

OK, SO! Here are some beauties I ganked from other's LJ's. Here is a categorization of art students much like what they did in Art School Confidential that came from skulldog. At first I thought it was funny and now I kind of see it as a little pretentious as well as somewhat annoying and disclusionary. Though I do really like the description of the "metal student" (call me biased).

Next up there's Fat Chunk, a comic book anthology based on predetermined themes. This volume's theme is ZOMBIES! You heard me right... ZOMBIES! Stolen from the great and ever-popular Aaron Alexovich of Serenity Rose fame. Because! *DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN* He's doing one of the comics for the zombie volume. Also, they are always looking for new talent for future volumes so some people I know *cough*kobi_lacroix*cough* should submit stuff. I've thought for a moment of finishing up some Aborted Fetus Lab pages just so I could submit them, buuuuuuuut I don't forsee that happening.

Then, keeping in with the comic theme, I have for you an explanation for a horrible joke that Grunge and I (or at least I) will continue making for at least a while. I felt so full that I actually felt like voming (vom=Tank's new favorite word for vomit). So, when Grunge laid on my stomach I faked voming noises and couldn't stop laughing. I kept flashing back to an episode of Jerry Springer that I'd seen long ago and this comic. So, at every opportune (or inopportune moment, call it what you will) I make fake voming noises. Don't worry, it's a two way street. Have you ever gone in to kiss someone and had them fake vom? No? Well, it's certainly an experience I tell you what.

AAAAAAND I've been shmoozing around Cake Wrecks because some of those cakes are incredibly amusing and you have to wonder about how they were ever conceived of, none-the-less made.  Seriously, I want my next birthday cake to say "hey Tank ... you're old".

<rant>SO! I took of Saturday, because I took off all the days around Saturday and didn't see much point in... you know, coming in on Saturday.  Also, I kind of didn't want to be dog tired for the drive out to happy fun tiemz vakashun plase!  And I was granted by the powers that be at my place of employment that Saturday off.  One of my other co-workers also requested it off for his son's graduation party.  I can understand that.  So, that leaves the third and final guy to work the shift ... ALONE!  This freaks him out and he also becomes whiny because he gets EVERY SATURDAY OFF except this one.  And he asks me if I'll be in town and if I would switch shifts with him.  It took all I had in me not to call him a complete fucktard with more shit in his brain than sense.  But all I said was that I would not be in town.  He needs to pull the silver spoon out of his ass and do some fucking work around here or get fired.</rant>

-TANK

p.s.
I have the bestest almost-husband pretty much of all time.  I'd tell you all of what he got me for my birthday, but you probably don't want to know.
 

I really like this song from Cage the Elephant.  The singer sounds A LOT like Jack White.  I think the best description I found of them so far is "if Jack White and Kid Rock and Everlast had a baby with Wolfmother ... and the Killers delivered said baby, you would have this band".  I don't really like Jack White as a person.  He seems like kind of a skeezy guy to me.  I could be wrong.  I've never sat down and had a conversation with him.  It's just something in my gut that tells me we wouldn't get along too well.  But for some reason I LOVE the sound of his voice.  Crazy.

I had a two hour long conversation last night with the security guard at work about what the genre 'Alternative' actually meant and whether or not Grunge was a sub-genre of it or if it could, in fact, stand alone as its own whole and complete genre.  We both agreed that Grunge should be considered a whole and complete genre and should not be umbrella-ed under the all-encompassing 'Alternative' title.  I got kind of annoyed at the wiki article on Alternative music and the sub-genres they put under that heading.  It just looks like one big catch-all.  I suppose that there needs to be a music catch-all, but I don't really like that it's the genre that I happen to be really into.  Damn you indefinable music styles.  Also, did anybody know that Johnny Cash did a version of NIN's "Hurt"?  And that Nirvana did a cover of "I Walk the Line"?  I am so amused.

I've been looking for reasons again.  I don't know why now, but yes... now.  It's just that I'm finding it kind of difficult.  I can't actually seem to make up a convincing lie that would make walking away easier and any LESS my fault.  Besides, Eldy said if I did anything stupid he'd smack me upside my head.  And I would deserve it.

-TANK

p.s.
I know it sounds weird that I'd refer to the security guard where I work when it comes to questions of music, but he actually studied music theory for 4 years... sooooo, it's not like I'm asking a whale what it's like to fly.

 

My head feels foggy and fuzzy inside, like it's been stuffed with cotton.  I haven't the slightest idea how it happened to get this way.  I just wish it would stop. 

I can't afford to exist.  I can't afford a place to live.  I can't afford... anything.  I'm still paying for my mistakes.

I'm such a child.  I try to be deep and meaningful, but it never works out.  I just don't care enough.  At one point I tried.  I really did.  I read books I didn't want to read.  I listened to speeches and sermons.  I went to temples and libraries.  I thought that there would be some magic message in there somewhere.  I thought there'd be a decoder ring to life shoved into one of the myriad of cracker jack boxes being peddled to me.  But there wasn't.  And the fact that there wasn't just fed my immaturity and apathy.  Now I care even less than I did before.  At least in high school when I made jokes about never finishing college people would laugh, now they just look nervous. 

I'm starting to get things under control.  My moods I mean.  I'm not swinging quite as wide as I was when I started.  I don't feel like strangling people whenever they screw up.  I don't feel like stapling things to my co-workers' heads all the time, well... most of them anyway.  I'm not going to be searching for the highest point in town any time soon.

I feel like an awful, ungrateful child.  I don't know what to get my dad for Dad's Day.  Mom used to take care of this.  Maybe I should give her a call.  She always knew him better than I did anyway.

I wish this could be more pleasant for you.  I really do...
Do you ever feel like the universe or the creator or ... something ... is trying to tell you something?
What world?!  What is it?! I'm not quite getting the fucking message!!

-TANK

 

Sometimes I just feel like destroying things.  The only other people I have run into that have the same compulsion are some pretty maladjusted fuckers.  Sociopaths, you know?  Every once in a while I think I've run into someone else like me.  Someone who sometimes just wants to fuck shit up, but either they don't really or they are another maladjusted fucker.  I was talking to this guy about how things just don't seem to be going well.  All I ever seem to be is angry and I'd really like to take out my agression on possessions I don't feel anything for.  So, I figure that an ingenius way to go about this was to look around a local Goodwill.  I'd be giving money to a good cause and taking knicknacks that no one would ever in their right mind buy off of the Goodwill's hands.  Seems like a win-win deal to me.  But then we start getting into the what of it.  And he says that there are some books I couldn't burn, it would be bad to smash LP's, that I should target anything made by Barbie, and G.I. Joe's should die with dignity.  And I think to myself "WHOA! hold up there just a minute guy ... why all the stupid stipulations?"  Why is Barbie bad, but Joe gets a dignified end?  Why CAN'T I burn all the books I can afford?  This is stuff at the Goodwill.  Do you know what that means?!  It means that this is the dregs buddy.  There's nothing worth loving here really.  No one is going to miss that taffeta abomination once referred to as "bridesmaid's dress" when it goes up in flames in my fire pit.  No one is going to mourn the loss of YET ANOTHER Danielle Steele collection that I happen to tear to pieces.  NO.  Just NO.  The indiscriminatory manner in which I want to tear the world apart is half the fun.  So, quit fucking killing my buzz.  Hand me a few more ceramic clowns, that Yanni tape, and a discarded teen bible and lets light this shit up.

-TANK

p.s.
Do you have any doubt what my plans for the weekend are?  ... I should pick up a hot glue gun ...

I just insulted a guest, completely on accident.
He said, "You said that like I should know it."
I mumbled some apology when what I really wanted to say was:
"YES! YOU SHOULD KNOW IT! I JUST TOLD YOU IT 3 DIFFERENT WAYS!
HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW?!?!?!?!"
Yep, that's right.  I wanted to ask him how he didn't know.

I ganked this twisted PeTA comic book cover from CunningFox on dA. Don't look at the second page they've provided if you have a weak stomach. There's a skinned creature at the bottom of it. I'm sorry. I didn't want to look at it either.  At least you guys are getting a warning from me.

I had a horrible dream today about Zombies.  It was awful and bloody and dark. 
And I like Zombies and even I thought this dream was scary.

So, I guess I should get down to business and tell you what I'm really here to say.  In the past few months I've been easilly annoyed and quick to anger.  And I know this has affected some of the people to which I am the closest.  I'm not saying that I'm all at fault here, but I could have chosen to react better to certain situations and didn't.  But I'm not going to stay angry for long.  I'm certainly not going to end a good relationship just because I get a little butthurt over something.  I like to think that when it comes to a genuinely good relationship I'm a "never say die" kind of girl.  I like to think anyway.  Though I know some *cough* Eldy *cough* would say otherwise.

-Edehn
 

 

I'm at work and I really just wish I could leave as soon as possible.  I guess that's why I'm writing here, you know, to pass the time.  I bought these Combos that were supposed to be salsa and tortilla chip flavored.  They were delicious when I had them, but they have given me the sourest stomach I've had in a long while.  Combos are usually so safe, too.  They are really just hyped up crackers.  I've been having a tough time staying awake at work.  My days off have not been spent lazing about and catching up on my sleep.  They started getting sacrificed when I fell victim to the worst kind of stupid.  You know, the sometimes asymptomatic but otherwise deadly stupid known as "love".  I know this needs to stop.  I can't function at work at the level I need to if it continues.  It's unfortunate, but true.  Things have been rocky.  I'm not going to lie.  Sometimes I think he can't tell when I'm kidding and when I'm really hurt, which isn't unusual.  I've driven away other people because of lesser misunderstandings.  He mentioned counseling and I balked.  I can only think of how VERY counterproductive all of the counseling I've received has been.  I'm going to lie.  I'm going to tell them everything is peachy-fucking-keen. Why?  Because strangers with that kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one.

Sometimes I re-read my own journal thinking that there will be entries in it that I have never seen before.  I don't know why this seems plausible, but it does.  Still, I'm always surprised when they are all just the same words as I've read them before.  I'm waiting for my alter ego, my Tyler Durden, to leave me a secret message somewhere that I can decipher only with my special decoder ring and some gumption.  Come on Tyler, I'm getting lonely.  Give me something to go off of here.

Sorry for the excessive Fight Club references.  They happen to me sometimes.

-TANK

p.s.
I have Saturday off... how the FUCK did I get a Saturday off?

Wow, I've kind of been a wildly emotional, worrying nag.  Seriously, what the hell happened?  I used to be a duck in the rain, letting the water slick right off my back like no big thing.  Now... now... I flail about and pout and whine about how wet I'm getting.  I need to fucking relax.  Not everything is a life or death situation, right?  Not every problem needs to be dealt with so dramatically.  Hell, some of them don't really ever need to be dealt with at all.  Don't cling to the rocks on the bottom of the stream, let go and just float on.  I don't know.  I just get so worried about how things are going.  I get worried about the future.  I start to get insecure and I worry about what everyone thinks of me.  I worry that I'm becoming stagnant.  I worry that my mistakes will haunt me forever.  I worry that I've put my trust in the wrong people.  And the further these worries embed themselves into my consciousness the more I cling; to the past, to the bottom... to you.  Because I want something that I can believe is constant.  I want something that I don't think I have to worry about.  SO, I think... that I'm going to have a few cigarettes and not worry about lung cancer.  I'm going to eat a few meals and not even think about the fat content.  I'm going to forget that tomorrow is ever going to happen.  I'm going to start being a "right now" kind of girl, at least for a little while.  Because being this "constantly sick with worry over what will happen" kind of girl is really a drag.  And I don't like being a drag. 

I was really early to the meet today.  A young girl and her father were the next to arrive.  And for reasons I won't go into I found myself being rather harsh and critical of them.  I actually had to stop myself and tell my brain to stop judging.  So, I smiled and they smiled and they were really very nice people.  They were a little slow to speak, but not stupid.  And I felt rather ashamed of my initial reaction, but proud of my quick ability to supress it.  I also have been talking to Nauta quite a bit at recent meets.  And I find that any opinions I may have had about some people are maybe wrong?  Being based on the opinions of people who I trusted but should not have. 

My eyes are slowly cracking open and the crust is flaking away.  I can almost make out what the world really looks like. 
Plato would be so proud.

-TANK

I know too many euphamisms, similes, metaphors and words when it comes to sexual activity... but when you're trying to write erotica it never seems like enough. There's a commercial about a game site put on by ESPN with a girl who turns to the camera and says "it makes work less soulcrushing". The security guard said that she reminded him of me. I've been looking through motifakes.com, because pundit kitchen and its sister sites only update so often. Apparently someone is having difficulty discerning the difference between Kurt Cobain and Chad Kroeger (srsly?). And after seeing Taken I can't help but put this up to let you know that Liam Neeson WILL find you and WILL kill you.  I think the only reason that I like them so much is because my mom used to LOVE the original ones.  You know, the ones with the big black border that would say shit like "STRENGTH" skip a line and then "who gives a fuck, here's a picture of a lion".  Ok, that's not really what they'd say, but I think everyone is familiar with the idea behind the first motivational posters.  Dr. Strangelove will be playing in Uptown on Saturday night, midnight showing.  I'd be going, but I have to work.  Yep, that's right.  WORK.  God, it really is crushing my soul.  Also, when is After Dark Horrorfest going to give up.  I'm not dead, so obviously your last 3 sets of 8 films to die for really just WEREN'T.  I think it's time to take a break and re-evaluate your priorities After Dark Horrorfest, yes... re-evaluate them.  I want to go see Drag Me to Hell.  I know it will be bad, but goddamnit it's Sam Raimi.  How can I say no?  I've been getting these unbelievably bad headaches.  Yes, so bad it's unbelievable.  I don't know what's causing them, but I sure as shit wish they would go away.  I had intended on doing more of the accounting course for work tonight, but... as you probably could have guessed that's just not going to happen.  I can't seem to concentrate on anything that isn't so shiny that it's probably crushing hydrogen atoms for more than few seconds.

-TANK

p.s.
NO I'M NOT ON COCAINE!

I've lost my book in the car somewhere.  That seems to be happening quite a bit.  I know that there are at least 5 books that it's swallowed up.  I can usually spot 2 or 3 of them from the driver's seat.  I'm so exhausted right now that I can't quite think straight, or at all for that matter.  So, maybe it's for the best that I can't read my book.  The last few days have been nothing but moving and moving and doing and talking and moving and more talking and some thinking and yet more doing.  But I've got to stop because this is ridiculous and I don't know how much further I can go without just... collapsing.  I wish the reports would print so I could fill in the numbers and just go home.  But it'll probably be another hour until I'm all finished up here.  And by then... will anyone be awake to open the door for me?  I need to do some laundry, but I don't really want to waste the time at home to do it and so am thinking about grabbing some essentials that NEED doing and a roll of quarters XP

I still don't know what to wear tomorrow night.  I don't know if I'll be able to muster up either the balls or the lack of sense needed to wear that damn halter top, but here's hoping.  I also have no idea what shoes to wear with that skirt.  Or should I just wear the polk-a-dot corset top from LB?  Maybe I'll just have a tiny fashion show and ask Grunge what he thinks.  Since... you know...   OR! I could wear one of the adorable vests with nothing but a lacy bra or cami underneath.  Well, all I really know is that I don't know at all.

Also, supposed to be having lunch with Jay and K tomorrow, but Jay doesn't seem to know anything about it.  K talked us into this really expensive place that I've no real interest in when Admiral made a GREAT point.  It's my effing birthday.  And on my birthday I want to go to Bucca's.  And we should have enough people to sit at a pope table.  Oh my, how I would love to sit at a pope table. 

All plans aside I feel bad.  I should spend time with the one person that I'm not going to see this year on my birthday.  Unless I can convince her she wants to come have Bucca's (I'll buy!) with us.  I feel kind of like blowing off all the plans that have been built up around me and just sitting in your room sipping supertini's and watching the heart wrenching movies we used to watch before I became a fucking movie elitist.  But I don't know if that would make anything better.

With all the love that I have in me to give,
Tank

I really don't know what to do.  I've never been in this situation before.  Do I even have a right to be angry?  Who's in the wrong here?  Someone has to be or it wouldn't feel this bad.  All this time and what is one day?  Nothing and everything.  I find myself falling back on old habits.  First I just wanted to scream about how not fair it is.  Then I want to distance myself from it.  I could just throw up my hands, defeated, and say "I'm done".  I've had enough.  And reason and logic say that these are just old habits and that I shouldn't pay them any mind.  But doubt keeps shoving them to the forefront for me to consider.

I want to be what is most important.  But I keep seeing time and time again that I am just... not.

The last couple of days the sleep aids haven't been working.  So, yesterday I lay in bed and imagined my mind was a massive factory with huge lights swinging from open rafters, large tables made from thick wood with tools strewn about and a great expanse of concrete floor.  I imagined myself as the only one there and all the machines were off.  The only thing left to do was switch off all the lights.  So, slowly, one by one, I turned off the lights.  The first night it worked.  I feel asleep after the first few lights, like a more elaborate sheep counting.  The second night it backfired.  Have you ever created an environment in your head and let your brain run wild in it? 
I don't think it'll work again.  Crazy.

-TANK

p.s.
Also, I bought myself shoes.  My old sneakers are about ready to kick the bucket (heh), so I bought myself a pair of these. Oh yeah, dig that hot gasmask action.
 

I've been less motivated the last couple of days.  I've avoided continuing on in the accounting course at the hotel.  I've stayed home from walks (went this morning, took the dog, it was nice).  I blame the horrible sinus headache that's come with the weather.  I've even started questioning why I should bother going to Hennepin Tech or college in general.  I've begun to tell myself that I am incapable of seeing any of these things to the end.  I think that I can't do them. 

It's sort of crazy when I start to think about it.  There are so many things I avoided because I didn't know how to do them and I was too afraid or ashamed to ask.  But then I think about all the things I've done only because I'd never done before and didn't know how to do them.  More evidence to fill the bi-polar files.

ZOMG NOODLES!  I got a coupon in my e-mail from noodles and co. for a free bowl (of noodles) for my birthday.  I also got a coupon from Torrid, though I'm less likely to use that.  I'd like to, but I don't see myself going down to THE MALL before the end of May.  And there's not a gaurantee that they'll have what I'm looking for.  Hmmm... I should call and see if I can use it online or if I can finnagle it so I can use it to order something.  So, yeah, my birthday is coming up.  I'm going to be that much closer to being mid-twenties instead of early twenties.  I didn't have any plans, but now I may just go get noodles.  I don't remember the last time I've ever been so unenthused, almost underwhelmed, over a birthday.

I've been watching the first season of Hell's Kitchen.  I'm a big fan of Gordon Ramsay and would like to get episodes of the other show that he did (because another season of Hell's Kitchen might just drive me nuts).  I also picked up a copy of The Dark Knight, Sick Girl (Lucky McKee's, of May fame, contribution to the Masters of Horror selection), and Life is Beautiful.  I got them at Half-Price while there with Frost.  I couldn't decide if Life is Beautiful was a good decision.  I'll never get over the end with the little Jewish boy and the Americans and the tank.  Crazy.

I'm going to end this because I'm starting to bore myself. 

I started reading Haunted.  I had to sit there and concentrate on taking deep breaths after reading the story of how Saint Gut-Free became Saint Gut-Free.  But damn, I do love this book.

-TANK