Even Digital Clocks Tick

Time seems to be flying by faster than copies of Halo 3 off of store shelves these days.

An example?

My twenty-first birthday has already come and gone, with hardly any evidence that it was ever there in the first place. Well....except for this:

I'm pretty sure that was my last social outing for the rest of my life, but at least it was worth it.

Muahaha.

Absence Can't Help A Heart That Doesn't Exist

Yeah.

It's been awhile.

Actually, I've been posting now and then elsewhere, but I'll be moving everything back over here to it's rightful (and might I add, gloriously dark) place.

Heh.

As if I have any readers that exist that would even care.

*smirk*

Drowning in Tides of Change

Edit: This is from my other (inferior) blog, hence my profile not being any different.

Despite severe misgivings on my part, I finally changed my profile layout. Though, if my OCD compels me to check it one more fucking time, I may have to revert back to old ways.

Except for this new blog skin.

Oooooh.

Needless to say, I'm not a being that is particularly fond of change. While I am able to adapt well, I'm inclined to hate everything to the 'enth degree. Which is probably why I'm floating between to jobs, still living at home, and (somewhat) keeping the faith that my Truck of Doom is worth the few thousand dollars in repairs.

With the house up for sale, options have been lain before me. Do I stay near (but seperate) from the Bastardly Parental Units, whether or not they decide to ditch this state in favor for another, and where the prospects of opening a new business are high.....or...do I stay in familiar territory, fully resigning myself to an ambitionless existence, and an all too narrow comfort zone?

....Yeah.

It's a debacle to be sure, but I suppose that whatever the outcome is, the spiral will loom ever downward. It always has, and always will.

I guess that's one thing that never will change.

Weary Doom

When I get really overtired, weird song mixes start playing in my head.

For the last eighteen hours, it's been a combination of the "Do-Re-Mi" song from the Sound of Music, and the original Mighty Morphin Power Rangers theme.

Ugh.

Much like Coke and orange juice, some things are just not meant to be together.

Wickedly Random

There's (almost) nothing worse than waking up just before you have to leave for work. Such is the fate of this dark being, who took far longer untangling herself from the clutches of the Dreaded R.E.M. than usual.

This is why sleep should be avoided at all costs.

So, I just learned that you can watch TV on abc and nbc.com. That's just fucking cool. Everyone should do that. Believe me, when I don't have to pick between my PC and TV, the world is a much nicer place. A small slow in the decent downwards, and all that. Mehehh.

*sigh*

What a worthless blog post.

....And I should probably go to work.

Dammit all to a spiraling Hell....

Resurrected Doom

I swear, I come back from the offline dead more times than Cloud Strife with a Phoenix Down IV.

Heh.

Great. I'm only blogging for three seconds and I'm already emoting grotesque amounts of nerdiness. There's a time and a place for that: conventions. Anyway...

I don't have terribly much to share. To be pointedly honest, I think I just wanted to hear the comforting sound of the keyboard clicking. Internet Junkies everywhere can attest to the effect that sound can have on you. And given my demanding work schedule as of late, I should really just record the sound for my damned iDoom and be done with it already.

*sigh*

Today's my first day off in the span of thirteen. The mere concept of free time has become something of a dim memory, but I daresay, I'm sure I'll find something to do. Be it the shiny stack of new anime I have sitting on my desk, or the badass emulation of Super Mario RPG I have sitting in my hard drive, I shall immerse myself in profound digital escapism.

Escape from what?

This may or may not be a question asked.

There are only two words that can properly answer that:

Black. Friday.

I already pseudo blogged about that nightmare, so I shan't repeat myself, but needless to say, I'm less than enthuisastic about the latter end of this week. Granted, I don't think I'm ever actually enthuisastic about anything, so perhaps that makes the point irrelevant.....huh...

I guess even in downward spiral one can still talk in circles.

Internetless Blog Chronicle

Internetless Blog Chronicle

Suppossedly my glorified Internet is going to be reconnected today.

I shan't hold my breath and bust out any odes to joy just yet, however. Ever pessimistic, I await an inevitable hinderance to that which feeds an unruly obbession so fearsome, that it will shake the pages of history for eons....

Heh.

Overdramatic.

Stepping back from that excercise in literary melodrama, I do hope it is returned to me with the utmost expediency. I'm fairly certain that my brain my implode soon from the utter lack of real-world distraction.

Not gonna lie, I'm a fan of digital escapism.

Wish I could escape from work this evening. Of course, I need the funds. I got nailed with a $340 medical bill of the She-Beast's that was thrown in [I]my[/I] name, because I was the patient in question at the time.

The time being seven years ago.

I was thirteen years old.

Wonderful what you can be made liable for these days...

I'm so glad that it's been tacked onto my credit history since the day I turned eighteen, despite my never having gotten a bill. Not that I should have in the first place, since it wasn't mine to begin with. I was always leery that such a thing would happen to me, and indeed, I've come to meet that doom in my trek down the spiral.

At least aforementioned "work" only includes around five hours of Blue Clad Slavery. The twelve and a half usually found as a Manufacturing Minion would be a thing of unbearable horror, were that my fate for the evening.

As Alice Cooper once put it, "It's the little things."

In matters of current events, we've a realtor lurking through The Compound. The Bastardly Parental Units have decided to sell, making this not only a prime opportunity to move out myself, but to put on display all those materialistic things that really shouldn't matter so much.

Yet they do.

Ironically, for all their scoffing at what I spent on my home theater setup, it might just be the icing on what would otherwise be a rather mundane cake. Not that it would go with the house, but it helps greatly when one has to try and visualize this as a habitable place.

Heh. Said realtor just walked in here.

"Welcome to my dungeon." said I.

Not used to people walking in my room. It's an odd feeling, and a stark reminder of why I'm glad I never had friends to have over as a wee one. Missed out on strange little trolls ravaging through my junk, snooping, and making cluttered messes of their own.

Score another one for solitude.

Internetless Blog Chronicle

(Because I have nothing better to do than blog offline)

I'm Internetless again.

Heh. If that's not a broken record at this point, I don't know what is.

Actually, I've been Internetless for a couple months now. Eight, if you count lack of Internet to my Vaio of Doom. We had a wireless air card for the Gateway of Grey Doom for a time, but once again the spiral proved it's lack of resistance to gravity...

Thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet, but I tell you wholeblackheartedly, the Christmas season is upon us already, especially at Blue Clad Slavery. Plans have already been made, and the nights are already getting longer. I cringe at the thought of Black Friday, whence I will inevitably working more than a full shift there, only to go forth to meet my doom as a Manufacturing Minion right after.

Nothing like a 24 shift to give your inner insomnaic a real kick in the head.

The only sliver of light coming off that long forgotten becon of hope, is the birthday that resides amidst all the horror and chaos that is the Holiday Season. The last great birthday of importance, before age becomes a thing muttered regretfully, and with bitter disdain.

The Twenty-First.

A literal grail of alchololic holiness.

Even in all my antisocialism, schemes have been plotted, and I shall be partaking in a place outside The Compound (my house). They say you only live once, and rest assured, it's all downhill from here on out.

Not that it wasn't ever not downhill, but the few and far between plateaus are coming to an end.

Heh. I think sometimes I'm far too cynical for my own good, and that my terrible imagination is going to be the utter ruination of me. I'd like to look on the brightside, and see a shiny future full of success and happiness, but that just makes me want to wretch all over my black straightjacket, and that would just be uncool.

Ah well.

What's that repetitive phrase?

Oh yes.

Ever the downward sprial....

Adventures in Noodle Making

There are somethings in life that are particularly difficult to mess up. Making noodles is one of them. It's not so much that they turned out wrong, persay, but perhaps in a bit more excess than required.

I use "bit" in all looseness of the term. Heh.

Behold a masterpiece, "Vat of Glorified Noodles":



...At least it provided a good half hour of all around snickers and jeers from Bastardly Parental Units. Not gonna lie, it was thoroughly deserved. *evil grin*

Let The Clocks Fucking Melt....Dammit!

It's 4:47 in the morning.

Most people would be sleeping, crashing after a night of partying, or perchance getting themselves ready for work (foul memories of working at McDonalds, there).

What am I doing?

Sitting in front of the pale glow of a computer screen, bored to death, and trying really hard to fight the temptation to theif the gas from both our lawn mowers, put it in my Truck of Doom to go do a bit of snow drifting.

.........*sigh*

I hope I can get another job in the very nearest of futures. Everything worth a bit of amusement is entirely out of my price range.

Even a couple gallons of gas.

Such is the downward spiral of life, it seems.

iDoom Disaster

There are some things in life that just shouldn't happen. Ever. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a prime example.

...................My poor, poor iPod of Doom.

*cringe*

I wonder if dog mauling is covered under the service plan...

Doom, gloom, and deathy horrors loom...

If I had to describe my life right now, I think that there is but one word that can best sum it up:

Stale.

While this may envoke mental images of bread, it fits, does it not? I'm so thoroughly bored with everything these days, that it take something close to an alien encounter to wake me from this stupor. Why must my Glorious Internet fail me so? What happened to it, that I'm no longer completely entertained by the pale glow of the screen, lulled into content by the soft hum of computer, and the light tapping of the keys as I made my way though the cyber realm?

............Damn it.

Much like everything else in life, it's all a downward spiral.

Of course, don't take this to mean that I have any intention of moving elsewhere, into the offline world. Hell below, that's a bit of a steeper downward spiral, to say the least.

Enough about boredom though.

Before I fade back into the digital darkness, here are a few random words to look upon:

*Cheese
*Tape Gun
*Pig
*Pin
*Candle
*Sharpie
*Hacksaw

.........Don't ask.

Such is the Downward Sprial....

November!??!??

Hell below, I turn my head for mere moments, and suddenly I find myself three months overdue in blog posts. It's positively wrong. WRONG.

And yes, Peaches, I got your little reminder quite loud and clear. *smirk*

Is there anything worth noting? Not really, but for the sake of post length, and personal amusement (as I have nothing better to do on a Saturday night in the supposed "prime of my life").

I'm still lumbering about over at my Blue Clad Slavery, though I've very near future plans to get a second job, possibly with a temp agency. I long to leave the country for a few months, and I daresay that no regular job is going to be satisfied with "Hey, I know you just hired me, but do you mind if I take a few months off?"

These days I seem to be suffering from a boredom so deep, that even my precious and most glorious Internet hasn't been able to save me. And so I spend my days lurking about my room, watching the clock tick, and the glare of wasted potential reflect back at me from these dark walls. Kinda wish someone would've kicked me a little harder in my just-as-cynical High School years. Being cynical is all fine and dandy, but lemmie tell you, those were the formative years....despite my skepticism at the time.

Now I get to wallow, and try to ignore the Superego telling me that at twenty, my life isn't over, and there's still time to get the ol' act together.

............I guess much hasn't changed.

Hehehhh.

Life Is Meant To Be Wasted

Because I know the world is just profoundly interested in updates from the darkside of life...

I'm on a wee bit of an information overload at the moment. In the course of having three full days off, I've not only managed to watch two entire seasons of Angel, read a book, watch a movie, and devote a few decent hours to lurking about the house with my iDoom in tow.

Someone less antisocial than I might say I need to get a life.

..........Probably a valid point, but truly, I already HAVE a life. It just happens to be profoundly boring. Meh. If my life was meant to be interesting, I'd have been someone else.