You know, I like this apartment and everything, but I have never lived in a place that had so many fucking centipedes in it. Few things are more unnerving than casually glancing over at the window only to see one of the little bastards scurrying up the drapes, then having to clean up all the legs that fall off when I end its useless life.
Seriously, it's like they're enjoying this or something. Fun story: The other day, I happened to be in the kitchen making dinner at the same time as one of my roommates (yes, I have, in fact, been interacting with other human beings since I got here, as hard as that is to believe). I asked him if he had noticed all the centipedes hanging around lately, and he said no, but within the next minute, one of them ran across the counter and almost made him drop the bowl he was holding.
I know I'm really too old to be this concerned about something so insignificant, but...fuck. It's just really, really unpleasant to share a living space with these things. Also, because I'm nocturnal like they are, I encounter a lot more of them than most people would.
I need a shower...but there's probably a centipede in there already.
I know I've already done this a few times, but as long as I'm feeling inspired, I thought I'd again point out the difference that a little discipline and dedication can make in one's life.
Compare this picture, taken on April 21, 2007:
...To this one, taken on April 24, 2009:
I still can't believe how much more I used to eat than was necessary.
That's it. Enough is enough. This self-loathing bullshit has gone too far.
I'm 24 years old and I've had virtually no meaningful life experiences. I've missed probably hundreds of opportunities to improve myself because I was paralyzed by the possibility of something going wrong. Perhaps most importantly, I still have no job, and I've been entirely too passive in trying to change that fact.
This ends now.
Like the post title says: Bring it. You're not holding me back anymore, Universe. I'm going to change things whether you like it or not.
And you will like it, incidentally, because I'm an individual with free will, I know what I want out of life, I have a mental edge over a very large majority of the human race, and I determine my own fucking destiny. I will make reality my bitch.
No more excuses, no more living in the past, no more pity parties.
Let's do this.
NOTE: If I write anything else about how much my life sucks and how much of a failure I am, please leave comments reminding me of this post. I'm sure you're ready to read something different anyway.
UPDATE
Seriously, this is huge. It's probably necessary to spend a couple weeks inside my head to understand how important this post is. Since the end of February, I've been in a rather familiar zone of hopelessness and depression, one which has manifested itself before on SIT in years past.
However, at some point in the last 24 hours, a switch flipped in my subconscious, and now I seem to be back in the high energy, ultra-motivated zone that allowed me to find an internship and an apartment last year while losing 75 pounds in the process.
I repeat: This is HUGE. For the first time in over a month, I genuinely feel like accomplishing something other than getting through a day without failing at a simple task.
The problem is that it's 3:40 in the morning, but hey, I'm nocturnal anyway.
On a final note, I may use this opportunity to try and get the comments working properly, but that's not entirely in my control yet.
You may recall that the boiler in my apartment shut down for a couple days last month, leaving us without heat and hot water.
Well, it must be trying to make up for that now. Despite the fact that it's currently 77 degrees in Weehawken, and the thermostat is set at 40, the fucking heat is on.
What the hell?!
Dear clueless idiots,
For fuck's sake, stop letting Joe Beninati call hockey games. He has the most horrible voice in sports commentary, he spends most of the game having a conversation with his broadcast partner that isn't even remotely related to what's happening on the screen, and he gets more excited when telling us about the intermission report than he does after a goal is scored. The fact that you continue to give him assignments tells me that you actually hate hockey fans and don't want us to enjoy the experience of watching your network.
While you're at it, get rid of Darren Eliot. Sports announcers should not talk like Yoda.
Thanks for your time, and finally...fuck you.
- CD
BONUS:
Here's a little parody of the Beninati/Eliot style that I wrote in the comments of a Pensblog post during last year's playoffs:
"You know Darren, Daniel Briere was challenged by his coach, and he stepped up tonight. It's so great when -THERE'S A SHOT BY CROSBY!- players pick up their game in the face of adversity.""That's absolutely right. Briere knew that his team was -great save there by Biron- on the brink of elimination, and he's keeping them alive."
"Darren, as a former goaltender, I'm sure you know how hard it is to -BIG HIT BEHIND THE NET!- play in an elimination game like this, and Marty Beeeeeeeron has sure shown that he isn't giving up."
"That's a great way to put it, Joe. By the way, have I mentioned that your suit is spectacular today?"
"Thanks, Darren. I picked it up last week, and -LUPUL FIRES AND SCOOOOOOOOOOOORES!- had it dry-cleaned at a place right down the street."
"Mike Richards Mike Richards Mike Richards, Joe.
"Mike Richards Mike Richards, Darren. It looks like there's a penalty. We'll tell you what it is eventually, but first let's head back to Bill at HOCKEY CENTRAAAAAAAAL!"
UPDATE
While I'm airing my grievances about Versucks...
Enough of the retarded "male enhancement" commercials. Are you such jokes that you can't get better sponsors than these intelligence insulting pseudoscientists?
Fuck you and fuck Gary Bettman for not getting a contract with someone competent.
I kind of disappeared for a while there, didn't I? Oops.
Don't despair, for I have not yet given up on blogging. I'm still alive, looking for work, and killing way too many centipedes for comfort (the annoying little bastards are going to ruin both my carpet and my shoes if I keep having to step on them), but I haven't felt like writing too much lately. Hopefully, that will change if and when my life becomes interesting again.
Speaking of life being interesting, you probably remember that I did an internship at an unnamed TV/film production company last summer. In the course of my job search activities, I stumbled upon proof that some of my work actually made it to TV.
I'm still not going to directly reveal where I interned (although it probably won't be much of a mystery after this), but since I'm not there anymore, I figure it's at least safe to reveal that one of the projects I worked on was a show for the Do-It-Yourself Network called Project Xtreme.
To refresh your memory and let new readers (hey, stop laughing!) in on what I'm talking about, here's an excerpt from a post I wrote on my second day of work:
Basically, my job was to surf the Internet and find interesting tidbits of information on various topics so E can insert them into a TV show the studio is producing. Once again, I can't go into specifics, unfortunately.Also, I...oh, wait, that was all I did today. Five hours of research. Wooo. I guess it's better than sweeping up the floors.
Since I can go into specifics now, that show was, as you may have guessed, Project Xtreme. Some of the little factoids I spent an entire day Googling actually ended up in the show. If you want to see a few, go here and watch "New York Electric Power" or "Empire State Building." When the little boxes pop up in the corner, most of the facts in them are based on my research (I'm pretty sure some are even in the exact words I used).
I realize you may not have the time, so I screencapped a couple:
Yes, I did, in fact, spend a decent amount of time researching the history of the squeegee. Unpaid and uncredited.
Anyway, I just thought it was kind of cool that something I did was potentially viewed by so many people. I don't know what kind of following this show actually has, but it was on TV, so...yeah. Hooray for effort.
On an unrelated note...
LET'S GO PENS! PLAYOFF TIME, BITCHES! WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
That is all.