I called my satellite radio company yesterday to cancel my subscription. When the guy asked why I was cancelling, I explained in brief why. He told me to hold. When he came back, he told me that he'd been authorized to give me complimentary service until November. Free satellite radio until November! I told him how I appreciated it, but he then told me that if I still hadn't found full time work by November, they would put me on a reduced payment plan until things turned around.
I figured at this point, I'd better also cancel my DVR service - $13.00 a month extra I'd have available. Called the DVR people. Again, they asked why I was cancelling, and again I told them why. She understood, and put me on hold. A few minutes later she comes back, and somehow I scored free DVR service until December.
I'm seriously not playing on the sympathy of these people, but it sure is nice to know that even when things aren't going well, some people really do care. I know that these things are luxuries, and I really did have every intention of cancelling. But now, I feel like since they understand what's going on, I'm going to do my best to hold on to the services.
Hopefully have a job interview today. Maybe something good will come of it.
- Still don't have a job.
- Teaching Certification has expired. The only way to reactivate it is to get a 2nd Bachelor's Degree.
- Money is very quickly running out.
- No job prospects at all unless I work 2 full time jobs, and a part time job.
- Working that much, I MIGHT make ends meet. Until January when my student loans start to come due.
- Probably going to have to disconnect my internet, home phone, maybe cell phone, XM Radio, cable, TiVo and not buy anything but groceries and gas until I can get a full time job that pays at least what I was making as a teacher. And stop going to the gym (I love that so much...)
- Can't afford to move because I can't save enough money to rent an apartment, activate utilities, change property placement, and eat. I'd have to pick from one of those.
- No health insurance, or coverage of any kind.
- Found a part-time job that can only work me 15 hours a week at $5.75/hr. before taxes.
- My dog that I've had for nearly 16 years is dying.
It's been a really great weekend.
In other news, still no job. I have a couple of prospects, though. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, but still being guarded about everything. So many set backs, so little hope.
I'm going to have a visitor in about 5 weeks! Bring some cool clothes, and a good attitude...I'm ready for company! ~36 Days!! WOO HOO!!
I can't get RID of this guy. He seems to think that drunken sex equals a relationship. Bless his heart. He's so stupid/horny.
Hm, what else? Oh, anyone know a good series of books in which I could become interested? I'm not big on the Sci-fi, but I love a good mystery from time to time. A friend and I are looking for something to replace the Harry Potter void now in our lives. We're needy and co-dependant. Eh, oh well.
'At's all I got right now. I'll keep youse guys posted on everything.
Ta!!
No, that's not a spoiler, but the end of a run.
I'll have to say, I'm rather put off by the last book.
Too many lose ends not tied up.
Too much useless information and prattling on about unnecessary things.
Two days of my life GONE FOREVER.
It's just a dull book, people.
What a depressing way to end one of the most popular runs of books in recent literary history.
Glad I didn't pay full price for the damn thing.
The Things You See People Do In Public*
3 Comments Published by Jason on Thursday, July 19, 2007 at 20:30.
- As I was walking in to Wal-Mart, there was a fairly large woman in front of me, completely unaware anyone was around, that decided to dig her underwear out of her ass. With her keys.
- While going in to Blockbuster, a man, about 40 years old or so, apparently lost something important in his crotch and proceeded to dig there to find it for a better part of 10 minutes.
- While sitting in my car at a stop light, a teen must have had something growing on the very tip of his brain because he had his finger so far up his nose it was unreal. Then apparently found the growth, and used it as hors d'oeuvres.
- At the post office this afternoon, I was standing in line to mail a package when the man behind me apparently felt the holy spirit move him as he started to flt around the lobby waving his arms and screaming: "FIRE ANTS! FIRE ANTS!" There were no fire ants.
- At the grocery, I was looking over the plums to purchase a few when I noticed a adult female pick one up, LICK IT, and put it back in the bin as if nothing had ever happened. I'll never buy fruit again that's not wrapped in cellophane.
- In the mall at American Eagle to purchase a gift card for my cousin, two young girls - customers - came up to me and said: "You have a really nice body. Wanna go outside and mess around?" They MIGHT have been 12, maybe 13. I nearly threw up, but not until after I laughed at them for several minutes.
- Coming home from town tonight, I was turning onto a street, when I saw a guy in a truck having a really good time turning in front of me. We stopped at a stop light, he stuck his hand out the window of his truck, slung it, "something" white flew off of it and ONTO MY WINDSHIELD. I ran the car through the car wash 3 times.
*please note that these did not all happen in one day, but over several days. But you have to admit, people do some weird shit when they think no one else is looking...
My trainer is letting his hair grow out.
It looks REALLY HOT on him. That, coupled with his athletic frame, is a serious distraction. Especially when he's finally become comfortable being around a gay client. The bad part is: he keeps BENDING OVER in front of me. It's about to drive me NUTS because he has such a nice ass.
He needs to stop. I can't pay attention to anything else.
My Abercrombie trainer.
Naturally I'd end up one.
Naturally.
*slams head on desk*
Yes, it was STUPID.
No, I didn't intend for it to happen.
NO, I am not a man whore.
Yes, I had been drinking (but so had he).
Yes, I was in a vulnerable state of mind.
No, this isn't the asshat from the previous post.
Yes, we had a good time (I think).
Yes, we took all necessary precations.
There, have I answered all your questions?
NO, I AM NOT A MAN WHORE.
He was in town.
He arranged dinner.
We had a great time.
We went for a walk downtown.
We were having this great conversation about many different things.
I broached the subject of maybe going on a date.
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He looked at me like I had three heads.
Said "no".
Laughed.
Stated: "I could have any man I wanted."
Patted me on the head.
Hugged me 'bye'.
Walked off.
If you had an intense interest (read: massive crush by a teenager) on someone, and wanted to tell them, could you bring yourself to do it? Yes, this is about me, if you must know.
Ok, here's what it is: (thankfully you people can help with this, being independent parties) There is a guy that I've known for a while. We get along great, talk about all kinds of things, and enjoy each other's company. He's not from here (definite plus) so that gives him a more worldly perspective, and makes him easy to talk to about many things.
We've been kept apart by lots of different things: he's fairly quiet, I'm more gregarious. Distance hurts (he lives away, but still keeps in contact), he feels comfortable calling me whenever, and I do the same. It's more of an easy friendship than anything.
However, I get the impression there just may be more to it. I can't quite put all the pieces together, but he's dropped hints and then just as quickly rescinded them and apologized. I've done the same. It seems very sophomoric, but after the many MANY bad dates/incidences that' I've had, I'm a little gun shy. No, that's not true. I've VERY gun shy.
Neither of us being obviously interested, but intensely interested all at the same time is causing friction - and not the good kind.
What to do? What to do?
I hate this part.
A while back, my best friend called and wanted me to meet a friend of hers that had just moved near me. We discussed it for a while and then I decided that I'd meet the guy but only if I could talk to him first. I'm not a blind date kind of person, so surprises in that area don't do much for me. She agreed, but the way she and her co-workers described him made him sound just a bit too good to be true.
I got a call on the cell not long after that and "Eric" and I talked for a while on the phone. He was very articulate, intelligent, and funny. We called back and forth like this for a few days, and he emailed me a pic of him, and I reciprocated. He was right up my alley, and apparently I was right up his alley as well (no innuendo intended) so we decided to meet for dinner.
This dinner date wasn't going to be anything spectacular, just dinner that's it. We agreed to meet at 7pm at a T.G.I. Friday's.
On the date night, I got there a bit early to get our name on the wait list and was seated before he arrived. He told me the make and model of his car so that I'd know he'd gotten there. A little after 7, I saw him pull into the parking lot (at about 60 mph) and sling into a parking space. When he emerged from his car, he was staggering all over the place. Drunk off his ass. Mind, he'd driven about 80 miles for this date, in a car, down the interstate and through heavy traffic just to be at the date.
When he sat down at the table, the smell of alcohol on him was unreal. The waiter arrived, and "Eric" was so drunk you couldn't understand his extremely slurred speech well enough to guess what he wanted. I ordered a large basket of fries and several glasses of tea for him, and then took his keys and made sure the manager had them.
After 6 or 7 glasses of tea, "Eric" managed to sober up enough to garble something about his brother's birthday, and how he'd forgotten that our date was tonight. I didn't really pay any attention, and not long after, he passed out AT THE TABLE. I paid the bill, and left enough money with the restaurant manager (a friend of mine) to get him a room at the hotel next door.
The next morning, my cell rang and "Eric" was apologizing all over himself for his behavior. He asked repeatedly if he could make it up to me. I didn't say anything - just simply hung up the phone.
First date in over a year, and that's what I get. Oh well, at least I didn't have to drive his drunk ass home.
People think I make my Mom up. They really do. It's insane sometimes the stuff her brain processes and the resulting actions.
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Case in point: A couple of Sundays ago, she and I were on one of our S.A.O.'s (Sunday Afternoon Outings) and I had XM tuned to an oldies station she likes. As we were stopped at a light, a song popped on that I haven't heard since I was a kid. I casually mentioned that I haven't heard that song in a while. It was something she used to sing to me as a Little Bit: Rainy Days and Mondays by the Carpenters.
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Now to re-cap, I SAID "I haven't heard that song in a while." What processed in my Mom's brain was: "I sure would LOVE to own a Carpenter's CD with all their greatest hits."
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Cut to a few days ago. I come home from the gym, and Mom has been by the house. On the front porch in the swing was a little bag with a note on it stating: "Since you love this group so much, I bought this for you. The salesman told me that it was hard to find."
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Inside the bag? The Carpenters: Their Greatest Hits 1969-1973.
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What in the gay hell am I going to do with this thing?? This music is so sappy, it gives me cavities to even LOOK at the cover. But I can't very well take it back and exchange it. Why you ask? How embarrassing (and unbelievable) would it be taking this to some 20-something sales guy and actually uttering the words: "My Mom bought this for me." Could you die?
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Anyway...anyone want a copy? You know, just in case you feel the need to be square.
Took a quiz that gave me this result:
I don't get it. I KNOW I was born in the south. Well, that's what my Mom tells me, anyway.
| What American accent do you have? (Best version so far) Midland ("Midland" is not necessarily the same thing as "Midwest") The default, lowest-common-denominator American accent that newscasters try to imitate. Since it's a neutral accent, just because you have a Midland accent doesn't mean you're from the Midland.
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| Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests. |
I don't get it. I KNOW I was born in the south. Well, that's what my Mom tells me, anyway.
My trainer: "So, dude, you ready to step it up a notch? Get some muscle on ya?"
Me: "I thought that's what we were doing."
Trainer: "Well, we've been building strength. Now it's time to put on some major muscle."
Me: "Do I really have a choice?"
Trainer: "Not really. Let's go hit some legs."
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I'm afraid to go out in public for the next few days. People might think I have MS or something. I can't even stand up. Any other time this constantly on my back position would be ideal for my "social" life.
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Right now, I just want to go pee without having to sit down and not be able to get up. My legs actually went to sleep on me the other day because I couldn't push (or even pull with my arms) myeslf into a standing position.
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You know, I can hear you laughing...bastards.
Me: "I thought that's what we were doing."
Trainer: "Well, we've been building strength. Now it's time to put on some major muscle."
Me: "Do I really have a choice?"
Trainer: "Not really. Let's go hit some legs."
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I'm afraid to go out in public for the next few days. People might think I have MS or something. I can't even stand up. Any other time this constantly on my back position would be ideal for my "social" life.
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Right now, I just want to go pee without having to sit down and not be able to get up. My legs actually went to sleep on me the other day because I couldn't push (or even pull with my arms) myeslf into a standing position.
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You know, I can hear you laughing...bastards.
A few mornings ago at my coffee meetings (of all places), there was a group of us sitting around talking about various and sundry things. Somehow, we got on the topic of pornography. Now, I'll preface this by saying this is a very liberal group. Artists, recovering hippies, philosophy majors, and unemployed educators (namely moi).
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The topic came up based off of an article in the paper that stated anyone that owned or ran a pornography site should be incarcerated, etc., etc. Several of us (members of the ACLU) were up in arms about this. Free speech, freedom on the press, and so on. After our righteous indignation, we completely changed the mood.
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"So, Jason, what kind of porn do you like?" Mind, I was one of several to be asked this, it was just my turn.
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Since I'm not a porn connoisseur, I didn't know what to say. I personally don't much care for porn. I don't enjoy it, and never really have, so I don't own any. The looks I got were priceless. They ranged from "yeah, right" to the obligatory deer-caught-in-headlights look.
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Them: "You don't own ANY porn? None at all?"
Me: "No, nothing. I don't even surf for it on the Internet." *I think at this point, I screamed mentally from sheer disbelief on my own part*
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Again, more stares of disbelief. I think there was some snickering in the background.
Me: "What? Is that so hard to believe? A gay guy that lives alone that doesn't own...."
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Yeah, at that point my voice trailed off. I even began to realize how ludicrous it sounded. But I swear it's true. I'm not a prude. I don't think. Hm. Maybe I am...
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Nah. I just don't like the stuff. I'd much rather make my own with another guy. I think I'd get more out of it that way.
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*insert your lewd comment here*
Those Fabulous Men and Their Flying Machines
3 Comments Published by Jason on Saturday, July 7, 2007 at 08:00.
I live less than a mile from an airport. Now mind you, it's not a very big airport, but it's big enough to hold a small fleet of Lear Jets that belong to a local barge company. These things take off at all hours of the day and night, and the runway that they use goes right over the top of my house. Actually, in winter, you can SEE the end of the runway from my house. So, yeah, it's loud from time to time.
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About a week ago, there was a knock on my door. When I went to answer it, two very severe looking men in Army uniforms were standing on my front porch. They introduced themselves, and asked if I had noticed an increase in flight activity over my house in the last few months. I told them no, it seemed to be about the same as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. They asked if the noise was a problem. Again, I said no, but it was a little annoying to have a plane fly over the house at 2am. I chuckled. They did not.
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They proceeded to ask me several more questions. Can I make out letters or numbers on the planes? Have I met any of the pilots? Do the planes seem to be circling the airport more than normal? To all of these questions, I answered no, not really, or I don't really pay that much attention. It was a little bizarre, but it's a public airport, they can do what they wish. The questions didn't make much sense - at least at the time.
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Monday, I received a letter in the mail telling me that there would be an increase in air activity at the airport over the next few days. The Army will be training local law enforcement on anti-terrorism procedures, and to expect "more activity than normal".
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The fuck they say. It's like living in a foundry. Where there once were maybe 5-6 flights a day, there is now a near constant roar from 10pm until dawn EVERY FUCKING NIGHT. Helicopters (dual prop, I might add). C-130's landing and taking off. Sirens, lights, BANGS (that's comforting mind you at 4am to hear what sounds like GUN SHOTS aiming right at your house). There's nothing like being jolted awake out of a great dream, to have shit rattle off your dresser and crash to the floor from the vibration of massive flying machines skimming the top of your house. Hell, if I'm going to be awakened at that time of the night, it'd better be for something GOOD - not poltergeist activity brought on by distant seismic shocks.
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At the same time, though, I'm learning about different kinds of military aircraft. While watching CNN the other night at dinner with some friends, one of the guys said: "Damn that's a big plane." To which I responded: "Actually, that's a C-130 transport planr used mostly by the 101st Airborne Division to transport troops from place to place. It can hold about 60-100 men depending on the arrangement of the fuselage." They looked at me like I had 3 heads. I just kinda smiled and said: "it's hot when a guy talks plane, isn't it?" They didn't get that joke. I thought I was damn funny. Plane/plain. Get it?
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Oh, bite me...
At the gym yesterday, I ran into a guy that attended high school with me. What never ceases to amaze me is this guy looks almost exactly as he did 13 years ago. Same good looks with the blonde hair, blue eyes, and 6'1" athletic frame. One of those guys that was the captain of the _______ team (fill that blank in with whatever sport you wish). He and I hadn't seen each other since school so when I saw him at the gym, he didn't recognize me at first.
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Him: "You look familiar to me."
Me: "Well, that's because we went to school together. I'm Jason."
Him: "Oh wow. I haven't seen you in years. How are you?"
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For the next few minutes we discuss our lives from 1994 until now. He's married with kids, works out of town a great deal, but lives just outside of town. Didn't know I was gay, but is "cool" with it, we don't keep in contact with anyone from the class, etc., etc.
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As the conversation progresses, he states that he probably wouldn't have said anything because I look nothing like I did in high school. Which is true, actually. Since graduation, I've lost about 64 pounds, shaved head, and I've worked hard to get here. I faithfully go to the gym as often as I can just to keep the weight off.
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As our conversation ends, he leans over, pats me on the stomach and says: "you know, just a little more hard work, and you'll be rid of that big gut. See you around."
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I looked down. What big gut? I know I don't have the ever elusive "6-pack" and I never will. But I didn't think I had a big gut. I turned and glanced in the mirror. I guess it's juts out a bit, but it seems flatter. And then all of a sudden, I was back in high school. As sophomoric as it sounds, I was once again Chunk from the Goonies.
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All through school, I was the "big" kid that was everyone's whipping boy. I didn't bother anyone, kept to myself, but when school was over I decided to change everything about me. I started exercising, some weights, but I wanted to get the weight off. I had too, I was 70 pounds overweight for my height and frame. It took 3 years, but I finally got most of it gone. I was very proud, but the self-esteem was always elusive. I fought weight for another 8 years, losing the battle and putting on about 40 pounds, then finally taking it off about a year ago, and keeping it that way.
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In the past few months, I'd actually started to like the way I looked. I was feeling good about myself to the point to where I was actually wearing clothes that fit instead of one size to big. It's ludicrous to think that one guy saying something so insignificant could bring all that crashing down; but in a way, it did.
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It's distressing to say that no matter how much you try to block things like that out, they always bring back negative emotions. He meant nothing bad by it at all, but it just stuck there like gum on the bottom of a shoe.
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I don't wish him any harm, but I wonder (and always will wonder) what possesses people to be so conceited about looks? I think it's great that people have healthy self-images like him, but I don't - and probably never will. That stupid on board faulty programming.
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Oh well, it's one thing to linger on it, another to move on and try to ignore it. All I can do is hope that I don't ever do that to someone else. Becuase I know from experience, it blows to be judged based solely on looks alone. Rejection is the worst kind of abuse.
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I just wish I could delete the faulty programming in my brain. It would make my life a tad easier maybe.
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Enjoy the 6th. Good Thursday, people.
I've been job hunting since the middle of April when I was told by the principal at my school they no longer needed two Special Education teachers. This process - a full time job looking for a full time job - is at the very least arduous, and is beginning to piss me off.
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I WANT a job, but I can't seem to find one. Can you believe it? A male that teaches Special Education working almost exclusively with children that have behavior problems or Autism, and he can't find a job. I'm still stunned over this.
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In my part of the country, school starts in less than a month. The first week of August, things start moving around here as kids start going back to school, teachers gear up for another 190+ days of trying to get kids to stop touching each other, and parents tear up with relief as their little hellions become someone elses problem for 7 hours a day.
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And here I am, with a Master's degree in Education, and I may have to start waiting tables to make ends meet. I can't go out of state until I'm certified in THIS state, so here I am. Stuck. All this education that I HAVE to have, $30,000 in debt, and no job.
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They tell me that I'd have a MUCH better chance of finding employment if I were to coach something athletic.
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Me? Coach? Honey...they gays don't catch. But I suppose I can carry water bottles and towels and stand there and clap my hands. Oh, OH! I could be a cheerleading coach...
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Yeah...that'll happen.
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Have a good day, everyone.
An interesting holiday. At least in the U.S.
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This is supposed to be the day that we, as a nation, celebrate our freedom from colonialism from Great Britain. Some of us do this by having a backyard bar-b-que around a pool. Some of us have friends and family over to swim in the pool. Some of us start our vacations to go sit by a pool/beach (some form of a body of water). While some of us just say, "screw it", and go to the public pool.
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In all, this holiday boils down to one thing, and one thing only: being able to pee outside in a large body of cool water while splashing about trying to look cool.
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I say, the forefathers of this country had the wrong idea when they decided to free themselves from the British: no more rule over us from anyone. Period. End of sentence.
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Who'd have thought that it would have eventually been celebrated by public urination?
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Have a great 4th, people.
