that tuesday

a lot started on tuesday, march ninth, 2004.
i was suspended from high school, and started a blog on the first free site i found. i decided i needed some sort of output while sitting at home all day to keep myself from going mad.

it's still there. i happened across it the other day.
and what a trip it was to read through.

almost like reading about someone else's life. i can hardly relate most of those things to me anymore. i'm not sure how that makes me feel. it's sort of like when someone falls, and you start to laugh, but at the same time, you're like "man that's messed up." and the two emotions collide, cancelling each other out so the expression on your face doesn't change at all.

yeah, it's like that. but maybe it's not.
i got confused halfway through typing that, but kept going.

let me start over with some things i know for sure:
- i miss that site
- i miss the people that read that site
- i miss the high school environment that site makes me think of
- i miss the innocence of coming home from school. sitting on my floor with my back up against my bed, not "blogging" (since i hate how that term has become generalized and uninteresting) but writing for the sake of writing.

it was truly beautiful.

but that was a long time ago, and two things have come to my attention. one i have always known, the other hit me today:

1. we will inevitably be disappointed when trying to recreate an earlier experience. it can't be done.
2. i hate what's happened to my writing. i filter it over and over in my mind. deleting a sentence here, adding something else there. posting what i think i'm supposed to read instead of the pure, unadulterated paragraphs that i used to.

ok, i'm irritated.
i know it's my own fault for blogging at work, but come on dude. this guy keeps walking in my office, and standing there. just standing there.
he doesn't even make a sound until i say, "what?"
it wouldn't be so bad if it was just every once in a while, but it's ALL DAY.
he's not in any way my boss, but he's certainly the type to stand stealthily behind you, reading your ims. so i'm constantly alt-tabbing to gizmodo or some random thing.

i digest.

and this music isn't helping, so i turn it off.
but i leave the earbuds in, because i find less people talk to me that way.

seriously? DUDE. i can see you pacing in the reflection of my office door, debating whether or not to come in here.
there's nothing to see here, move along.

i think i'd be better off going to the bathroom and writing this from my phone.
but then the receptionist would think i'm constipated or something, and i hate rumors.

well, there goes my train of thought. i might as well change the subject.
my hair is so long. like, uncomfortably long.
to the point where i can't keep track of some pieces, and i don't like that.
seems like a simple solution, right? no no, foolish one.
i suppose i could google "haircut," and i'd get some greatclips locations, a couple quickcuts, and an ad for sweeny todd. then i'd have to find which one is near me, and either pray they're open late, or make plans to go before work, which i'd never do. on the off chance i managed to make myself leave on time, i'd be itchy all day, because you KNOW those people don't clean you properly.
that leaves me with doing it myself, which i usually do, cause it's awesome.
the battery in my clippers is dead, i don't know where the charger is, and forget scissors.

i'm to the point now of just trying to love what i have.
not a bad strategy, even beyond hair.