There is no time for hatred, only questions

Did you know it's possible to spam people via their blog comments? If you redirect yourself to my entry however long ago about Billy Corgan's Naperville experience, you'll see two or three viagra ads in my comment section. As an internet user, I can't express how delighted I am that advertisers are keeping up with the fads and advances and adapting their methods accordingly. Viagra, after all, is exactly what I need.

Random thoughts of the week:

- I think spontaneity, as a chronic characteristic, is overrated. As much as HBO sitcom women pine for unpredictable men, I find that I'm more comfortable around people of whom I know more or less what to expect than people who are entirely random.

- Recently I've been going through an odd phenomenon in which some experience will lead me to a mental conclusion that is totally obvious, but somehow seems enlightening. Example: volunteering at Second City and making conversation with lots of adults reminded me that adults are a lot more like my current friends and acquaintances than the omniscient, mature beings I imagined them to be when I was a child. In short, adults are people. Duh.

- I have a feeling that within the next several months every time the word "college" is said it will automatically add a tiny push of pressure to a growing headache that is beginning to form in my skull.

- Along the spontaneity/predictability line, I'm convinced that when it comes to human beings dealing with one another, that "learn from your mistakes" rule doesn't apply. People will continue to function and react in the exact same way towards each other after and despite all logic and past experience. Touching a hot stove and turning your hand into a cinder as a child teaches you not to repeat the injury, but for some reason between two grown people the same logic goes awry.

- A couple months ago I commented on fashion trends at the end of an entry and supplied a picture of what I thought to be one of the more ridiculous and unlikely looking ensembles. Since then I've seen more and more girls around the mall wearing pants strikingly similar to the ones on that model. I'm not sure whether that makes me amused or disappointed.

I am currently thankful for: air conditioning, trampolines, public decency laws, and barbecue sauce.

Call it quits or get a grip

Things I don't care about:

- Politics*

- What happens between Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes

- Sports

- Anything promoted on an infomercial

- Music**

*in the scheming, electioning, "let's fool the public" sense of the term. Issues concern me. How everyone bangs their head against the wall to come to a consensus on them does not.

**rather, I tire easily of people who argue ceaselessly how much music today sucks and whether or not bands are "good." If I like it, it's good, and no more discussion is necessary, thank you.

To all concerned parties, I'm pretty sure I've come to a workable personal solution to my aforementioned emotional turmoil. I'd explain it here, but it involves a lot of math.

So, I've noticed recently just how many things I do unconsciously (besides things like breathing and heartbeats, Captain Obvious). Every time I get into a car as a passenger I take off my flip flops. When I'm thinking or don't have anything to say, I crack my knuckles. I stare at people. Every time I get out of my car, I check that my headlights are off, put my keys in my purse, and lock my car twice. Half the time I don't even remember doing any of this, and I'll always be mildly surprised when I find my feet bare or my car locked.

Top 5 things I wish I did more of recently: 1. Painting; 2. Exercising; 3. Seeing my friends; 4. Doing that math packet; 5. Hanging out with my sister (example below)

Me: If I ever get attacked, forget all that self defense training, I'd just go for the eyes. I imagine having your eye gouged would be pretty debilitating and distracting.

Cathi: Yeah, but only if he doesn't grab your wrists. Then you'd be in trouble. Though I guess then you could just start spinning around until you get out of his grip, 'cause he'd have to let go eventually. Unless of course he starts spinning with you, but then that's not really a kidnapping anymore. That's dancing.

Fake it like you matter

So, in the mail yesterday I got the proofs of the pictures I was forced to have taken. Overall, they weren't bad, but if I can give some advice to the general public: never take advantage of an opportunity to look at your face for more than 57 seconds. Much like saying the word "spoon" over and over again too many times to the point it doesn't sound like a real word anymore, your own face begins to appear really funny looking after a while, which isn't, I don't think, the sort of thing you want to psychologically encourage.

Speaking of psychological damage, my emotions have been going crazy lately, and it's really starting to unnerve me. I could attribute this to a few different factors, but whatever the cause, it's really taking a toll on my usual philosophy regarding composure and general sanity.

Current reading goals:

- Immortality by Milan Kundera

- Night by Bilge Karasu

- The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera

- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings (the novel, not the poem) by Maya Angelo

- High Fidelity by Nick Hornby

- Ceremony by Leslie Silko

- Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince by JK Rowling

Other random thoughts:

- The fact that government class ended is good in that I can now get 5x more sleep, but worrisome in that now I don't have a good excuse not to work on my paintings.

- As much as I like droughts, walking on dry, dormant, yellow grass hurts my feet.

- My faith in humanity was restored a little bit today when, while I was late driving to work, stuck at my 5th consecutive red light, and obviously frustrated and exasperated as I had just vented on my steering wheel, some old black guy in a golfing hat in the car next to me rolled down his window, smiled at me and laughed and told me that he hoped my day would get better from there.

- It never ceases to amaze me that people will drop over $100.00 at a teddy bear store.

I don't blame you for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it

Humankind (i.e. a portion of the 15 or so people who dictate how I view humanity in general) has been really disappointing me lately. In ways I consider both intentional and unintentional, but motive aside, it's making me increasingly appreciate the company of books. What's the Captain Planet lesson, kids? Keep your expectations low (despite what Charles Dickens tells you). And don't litter, it kills the seals.

Fourth of July is today. This is a holiday that continues to have very little emotional impact in me. I blame this not on the fact that I have no respect for the trials and tribulations suffered by those who came before me, but more on the fact that lots and lots of red, white, and blue just isn't enough to stir up great swells of patriotism in me. However, I do plan on attending Ribfest to see Naperville's fireworks, as my ritual. Nothing says "I love America" like greasy food, crowds of people, and explosives.

Well, so far writing hasn't done much to dispel my current moodiness, so let's move on to plan B: a market fresh list of things that make me happy:

- Watching earnest little kids close their eyes in concentration and clench their fists as tightly as they can when they make a wish

- Getting lots of phone calls

- Droughts (bad for life in general? Yes. But lots of sunshine makes me happy)

- My dad

- Photographs and written notes and letters

- Hang-out sessions consisting entirely of a constant conversation that lasts for hours

- People who actually listen to what you have to say, as opposed to being preoccupied formulating his next sentence or only hearing without sweating comprehension

- Strawberry smoothies

- Putting on clothes when they're still warm from the dryer