I feel weird

I've not been feeling my dandiest lately. I'm not unhappy really... I have a generalized sense of discontent. Like I'm wrapped in a towel that was recently cleaned because someone threw up on it. It's not a bad towel, but I can juuuuset make out the smell of vomit if I put my nose to it. I should be thankful for the towel, 'cause it keeps me dry. But that smell. It's there, I know it.

You get me? Maybe I'm having an existential crisis but I don't know it yet. Here's an example of how I'm doing: I've been a vegetarian for a few years. Somewhere around three. In the past couple of months I've been toying with the idea of just saying, "Fuck it. I want a hot dog." I felt strongly about abstaining from my carnivorous nature. I developed a habit of avoiding meat. But now that's all it is. A habit. For some reason, the passion and nobility I garnered from vegetarianism has faded. Intellectually, I haven't changed my mind. But last week, that "Fuck it" thought won out. I ate hot dogs. And pizza with ham on it. And it was goddamned delicious! I didn't regret it. So now I don't know what I am. I've not eaten meat all week. I'm still running off the habit. But I can take it or leave it.

I'm trying to be creative, but I sit there staring at a blank screen or piece of paper. Without a thought in that pretty head of mine. I think I have writer's block. I can't produce.

And every job I'm looking at to apply for is making me feel shitty about myself. I'm severely underqualified for everything but the shittiest jobs that appear just a little worse than the one I have now. After an hour of searching, my mind seizes up and I need to look at a picture of a kitten on a skateboard or something, just to feel something positive.

Or a kitten in a frog hat. Even better!

I think I have to force myself to get out. Because all I want to do is sit around and watch Toxic Avenger movies. That can't be healthy.

I wish I could focus on reading. I can't even do that! I love to read! It's my go-to activity. But it's boring me. What's up?

Correction: I started reading Sylvia Plath's journals today. Her writing is resonating with me. THAT can't be good!

My Sunday Meeting of the Finance Week 7

Sorry, faithful reader(s?).

I've been away for a week. I mentally checked out from this blog here.

It's really hard to maintain a blog. I haven't been in the mood to write a damned thing. It's partly because I'm jittery. The idea of sitting down to blog after 8 hours of being on a computer at work, compounded with using my home computer to find a job, is anathema at times. I'm on the computer a lot. It doesn't feel good.

Also, I gashed my finger. I made a splint out of a popsicle stick and tape. Typing is not easy when your index finger is wedging itself into the keyboard.

Also #2. My dad and stepmom have been pissing me off. Remember that bachelor party I went to? The one for my brother? Well, it turns out my folks were resentful that I buzzed through town overnight without informing them. That might be otherwise understandable, but my brother told them we were coming by and tried set up a breakfast together. My dad said that was cool at first, but a day after agreeing to have breakfast, he became angry and canceled. Because I failed to tell them in addition to my brother. I was stunned that they were so furious and was too scared to call them. Three weeks went by before I finally called... because I knew that the longer I put off calling, the angrier they would get. I smoothed things over with my dad, but they're still angry at my brother. This little scenario has contributed to my jitteriness.

What an awkward conversation I had with my dad. He's insanely passive aggressive. But I can handle him one-on-one. Usually our tiffs are exacerbated when he lets his wife fight his battles for him. She has an interesting habit of being simultaneously aggressive and passive aggressive, if that's possible.

Thinking and talking about them is exhausting right now. That's all I'll say for the time being.

Financially? Oh, yeah! The purpose of this blog! It's going OK. I had my first paycheck in which nothing had to go to a bill. That was quite exciting for me. I bought some shorts, a few songs for my iTunes, some new lunch containers, and food. I fixed my bike up, too. And purchased my brother's wedding present.

I'm going to make an effort to take every Monday evening to look for paying jobs/gigs. I feel I need some routine. But not too much. Some.

Sleep!

My Sunday Meeting of the Finance Week 6

Six weeks of Smell My Success!

This is the first time I've gotten a paycheck and not had to put any of it onto a bill. I'm going to have to put some aside for a wedding suit rental and $50 went into fixing my bike (I scored yet another flat 36 hours following its repair + brakes + a new bike post), train fare, and food... but after that, I can afford to do some things. Catch up on a little social-time, get some necessities for the apartment, maybe buy some extra shorts for the summer... snazzy shorts. Oh, yeah.

But I'm also planning to put some into the credit card. The debt still looms, though it may be sleeping in the shade of the mountain. Beowulf said that. Just before he cleaved Grendel in 'twain.

I'm about this strong. I do the Summer Fitness Beowulf Workout.

I've been skimping on the social scene, lately. It's not your fault. When I don't have much money and I'm a bit down about it, it's hard to invent free things to do with friends. I must buy their love or at least find a smattering of cash to share in their frivolities.

So... Today I went to the beach with friends. We later had some beers at their apartment. I'll be going to a beach in Indiana with them this coming Saturday. I also plan to attend a documentary about Troll 2, one of the worst movies ever made. It will be followed by the movie itself. Here's a taste of its awesome awfulness:

That cannot be resisted. I'm also planning to hit some open mic stand-up this week. I shall participate in the 'unleashing of jokes.' I did some stand-up years ago and I'm going to try my hand at it again. I'm nervous about it but I'm sick of relying on other people to get my ideas off the ground. Therefore, I'm going to experiment with writing and performing my own material. Creatively, I'm the only person I can rely on to mold what I want, and since I'm always around me, I'm the only one to blame for not showing up at a rehearsal or generating poor material.

Oh, yeah, I have to look for a job too. Shit. So much to do.

At least Queen accepts me

Really, life? Really? I have no money. I just needed to hold out for a measly two days until my next paycheck and you break my bike again?

My back bike break (say that ten times fast) clamped into the wheel while coming home from work. Yet another repair! As I have nothing for the train, I had to remove the break pad and hope I don't die Friday.

Oh, I'll die all right. It'll be a spectacular death. Just you watch, pedestrians.

Apparently I wasn't sad enough. So life threw an extra blanket of depression over me. Nice and toasty! The writing job I was shooting for (which I also had an in on) fell through. I got an email that essentially said I wasn't a good enough writer. I denied one job, another denied me. Back to square one.

You know, I'm aware that I'm not a tip-top writer. But I don't think the samples I sent in for consideration were that bad. The company was getting a high number of applicants. So hopefully I wasn't ripped apart by some nerdly drone, bashing me over "poor sentence structure" and "barely getting a grip of the English language." I did write the word cunt a lot. That's what edgy writers do.

This is a frustrating week. And why is it so humid, Chicago? Let up!

Each snowflake is different, but mine is an honor roll student

Summer is a battleground between the need to be thrifty and the desire to consume ice cream until I vomit it back into the cone. While the extra hour of light during daylight savings correlates with a decrease in crime and car accidents, it also increases the temptation to 'expand economically' and party like hell.

I just want to eat out on the patios of restaurants all day. I'd like to grab some brunch, shuffle up to a late lunch, and lurch over to dinner. Afterwards, it would be nice to hit a bar. And I would never fail to have a milkshake in hand.

But alack! No can do. I have a few days until I get paid again and I possess but a pittance in my checking account. My money left my hands pretty early these past two weeks. I thought I could hold out, but when I hit the home stretch, my bike busted a flat. I couldn't afford to fix it and I couldn't come up with more than two days worth of train fare for a five day work week. Jessica came to the rescue wearing a mask and cape as she often does, acting as if I didn't know her true identity. But I knew. I knew! She spotted me the fifteen bucks to repair the flat which will be reimbursed from a hutch we're going to sell this weekend.

I gave myself a ten dollar limit to spend on food for the week. I bought some tomatoes, yogurt, and a pineapple. I kept under ten dollars by $2.84. That paltry sum was shuffled over as a tiny payment to my credit card.

Isn't that a neat trick? It's a tactic I picked up called snowflaking. Snowflaking is a debt reduction method by which you take a small amount of cash you come across and flick it into that seemingly bottomless pit of debt. It's kind of like throwing a handful of dirt onto a festering corpse. It might not seem like it's covering up that man you killed, but it builds up over a long period of time.

Cover that up with dirt and you won't have to marry it!

Snowflaking can actually be fun. It's not the same as painfully committing a large chunk of funds. The small, almost silly amounts that go into my debt can give me the mental boost I need to take this on in the long term. Because I'm constantly putting payments on what I owe.

That will hasten my debt's demise. And the sooner I pay it off, the sooner I'll be regurgitating ice cream and shoving sandwiches into my esophagus.

My Sunday Meeting of the Finance Week 5

Sweet bedeviled army men!

I was indeed offered that job I didn't want. I told them no. They were a bit sad about it, but kind. I handled it well. I was totally smooth. Particularly for someone who dreads things and becomes over-apologetic when nervous.

I don't regret it. I really didn't want to get involved in that shmuckus.

And now..?

Now I continue to trudge along with the job I have. And look for something better...

My costs have been reduced (re: student referral and reduced credit card costs). The focus is on attainment. I shall attain my heart's desire. Mo' money.

...

On another note, I find that I am becoming antsy to act again. My weekly Second City class isn't enough. Engrossing myself in my financial travails and job hunt is necessary and even relieving, but creatively, I'm itchy.

I need encouragement. I need something to give me drive.

Yeah, that's the ticket! I'll sing my way to the top! Thanks Ellen Greene! Thanks Robert Morse!

To Yes or to No

I have a feeling I'm going to be offered that job I don't want. They called me while I was at work. They've been checking my references. I have to call them back.

I can't shake the feeling of guilt that comes from knowing I'm going to decline it. I have trouble saying "no." It's a lifelong problem I've developed. Whenever something is offered, I tend to automatically say "yes" to it. I'm unsure why, but when I say "no" to things, I feel awkward and ungrateful. I think I might also have a fear of regret. I don't want to kick myself for not taking up an opportunity that comes my way.

Basically this job would entail me getting bossed around by two intense doctors. I'm uneasy about the environment I'd be getting myself into. I'm a laid back guy. During my first interview, I had the sense this wouldn't be up my alley. During the second interview, it grew stronger. I know I don't want it.

But I'm nervous about passing something up that will pay really well and give me awesome benefits. And I really want to bust out of my current employment.

But I've met so many unhappy people who chose the shitty job that pays well. In no way do I want to embrace that. I'm not a golden handcuff sort of chap. Not when it comes down to it.

So I'll call them and hope like hell they just want to tell me to buzz off over the phone. But I doubt it. I gotta man up and deliver a thin-crust large "no" with shrooms and extra tomato.

The Velveteen Dance of Shame

Credit card application update... DENIED!

My library card, a few receipts, some loose change, and a big ole fuck you. That's what's in my wallet.

I applied for a new card so I could transfer my remaining $2,000 debt onto it. With 0% APR for about a year, that would have really helped me to pay it off quickly. But alas. My credit is not fantastic. I was aware I probably wouldn't be accepted into the cool kids' credit club, but it still felt like a shovel kick in the testes. And they answered back so FAST! That was the worst part. My application said allow one to four weeks for a response. But they denied me within a day and a half! That's just embarrassing.

But I guess I'm in an OK place. I have a student loan deferment until next January so I can focus on my current credit card debt. If I can land a better paying job within a month or two, I'll really have something to smack my sneakers about. Sometimes I make up old-timey catch phrases.

Increasing income is my most pressing business! I'm working full time at my job for now, but that can change in a flash. It also pays me in buttons and pieces of old felt. Were I a Velveteen Rabbit, this would be acceptable. But I needs me some cashums.

Cute!

Ode to a Fat Man

From his pancake feet

To his meatsock ankles

Rising up along his mushroomed thighs

Each leg as thick as a bale of hay

Supporting a buttery pelvis

His stomach overhanging

Like a dead, ballooning elephant seal festering on the beach

To his surprisingly concave chest

To his frothy shoulders

Wielding omelet-filled arms

Ending in micro waved kielbasa fingers

Unable to scratch his own filthy, padded back

Or his sandbag turret of a neck

Supporting a head like the moon

With bulbous ears, nose and eyes

Suffocating within melting facial flesh

To his margarine lips

Which –

If they kissed you

Would slurp and bubble as a bog would

From all these things that I have gazed upon

In wondrous horror

This was indeed –

The Fattest Man I ever saw…

That fat man… He was so fat.

Post Script: I wrote this poem a while back in honor of a very large co-worker I knew. I hold no grudge against the obese, but this guy had an unpleasant personality. Therefore, excuse my desire to share in the delight of wordplay at one fat man's expense.

My Sunday Meeting of the Finance Week 4

Check that. My Monday Meeting of the Finance.

Why? Sunday was Firework Day that's why. Which Chicago celebrates on the 3rd. Sweet, naive Chicago. The Windy City blows breezes of innocence.

It's to be admitted. I've slacked quite a bit over the past week. The $100 I saved over from the bachelor's party was invested in pizza, a fancy home-base dinner, and booze. I suppose I should have flung it toward the credit card or repaired my bike with it. But I couldn't do it. I wanted to kick it like Coolio. What's strange is that I don't feel guilty. I think my psyche felt the urge to relapse into old habits and not be ashamed.

There was a positive side to this experience, though, which shows I may have made internal progress. You see, after I blew the hundred bucks, I started to tighten up my finances again. Not perfectly, but more so than I would have over a month ago. Knowing I hit the hundred dollar limit caused me to renew my financial vigilance.

This Monday saw me hunched over my three ring binder where I sketched out my income-spending ratio. I paid out my bills, applied for a credit card with 0% APR for balance transfers, and sent out an application and writing samples for a staff writer position. AND I spanked the neighborhood cat for excessive foolishness. I was a whirlwind!

I've accomplished quite a few tasks these past weeks, but I haven't developed that love of thrift I'm looking for. I don't know if I can ever develop that. I'm just fighting to maintain my new habits. It sort of feels like I've quit smoking again - I have that visceral sense of deprivation and need to stick something in my mouth.

Insert oral sex joke here.

Quantum Chop!

Happy upcoming 4th of July, Superfriends!

And also to you, Smell My Success readers!

My dad gave me a book a while back that I'm finally getting around to browsing. It's called The Secret History of the World by Mark Booth. It's about... well... the history of the world from the perspective of secret societies, who hold hidden knowledge that YOU should know.

What is that hidden knowledge? That everything is orchestrated by intricate conspiratorial entities and that we are all projected from the mind of God and that science is narrow-minded bullshit.

Check out the opening paragraph:

The secret history of the world is a rude gesture in the

face of the know-it-alls who make up our intellectual

elite, the control freaks who would decide what is

acceptable for us all to think and believe.

That's the sort of level-headed introduction I like to read when I'm considering an argument. From there, it's as if someone took a couple hits of coke and threw up for 550 pages. At least there are pictures. But not a single one of me!

I'm only 50 pages into the book thus far, but it's a perfect example of a problem I have with people who make claims about anything: if you disagree with another position, do the homework on that position. Know what you're arguing against. This guy breezes through Schroedinger's Cat and the laws of probability in one page and gets it totally wrong! And he has the audacity to call scientists out for being dismissive and close-minded.

Personally, people who equate quantum physics and metaphysics are beginning to get on my nerves. Though I do admit to screaming "Quantum Chop!" during my 'inspired' karate-through-whiskey sessions. I'm thinking of founding a dojo.

I'm going to keep chugging through a few more chapters because my dad gave me the damn thing and he was excited for me to read it. Out of respect, I'll give it my attention. But, poooooh, is it painful! Partly because I used to be into 'revisionist history' and secret societies. But the more I looked into it and considered the claims, the less likely it seemed. Now it's just plain silly.

So, yeah.

The book is great. I recommend it. Everything in it is genius.

Droppin' a Monetary Duece

Aw snaps!

My mom and my girlfriend said they would loan me cash to help pay off my credit card. Remember when I talked about that? You don't? Go to earlier posts, my shit-for-brain friends.

My mom lent me $2,000. Jessica spotted me $3,000.

It all came through today. I just put it in the bank. $3,000 will be made out to the card this very morning, July 1st! The following sum will be transferred as soon as the check clears.

From there, I will make payments on the remaining $2,000. Then I will turn to paying off my loved ones.

And THEN, I work off those student loans.

And then..?

I blow it all on margaritas. Sarah Jessica Parker style.