This post is going to be a running list of ideas because, for some reason, things are stirring in my mind. If I don't release this stuff it drives me crazy and it also makes me have the weirdest.dreams.ever. I don't know how many times I sat up in bed talking last night. At times I would wake up and actually hear myself mutter out the last few words, something to do with diapers, and then I would immediately think, oh cripes, I'm losing it again. Warning. Warning.

So, in hopes that I sleep through the night without endless dreams about snakes being in my bed, here goes:

-There's a song in my head that I can't.get.out: Future Love by Varsity Fanclub. I like the song and all but it simply will not leave me. Baby if you ask me, I will say, I don't even know your name... See what I mean? That part keeps playing over and over again like a broken record.
-I keep going back and forth about the idea of wearing a swimming cap while I swim laps at the gym. Should I do it? Will I look completely ridiculous? Reason is, I want to start swimming laps but my hair is longer and I don't want the chlorine to absolutely kill it, so I need some kind of cap to shelter it. Wait, is that even the purpose of swim caps or is it to make you swim faster? For some reason I thought it also protected your hair? I should probably research this. I mean I have Speedos to wear so that I can swim faster...and before you get all funny about that, these are cool, long Speedos, not the super insane brief Speedos. You know the kind of person that is wearing the super short ones. Yeah, that guy. And often at a certain stretch of beach in north Chicago. That's not me. I'm wearing cool, long ones at my gym swimming pool while swimming laps, thank you. Way different. I'm obviously still insecure about my Speedos, agreed.
-I really want this campaign season to be over with. I can't stand hearing about Obama/McCain and Palin anymore. I really, really can't. Can we have the elections a month early? Please...
-So I watched The Hills last night and I still can't seem to convince anyone that Heidi and Spencer are not together in "real life." I know that it's all just a publicity thing to keep people watching the show, but really, no one could really be with Spencer. Not even Heidi. I mean, doesn't he make your skin crawl every time you see him? Even his rude obnoxiousness, I realize, is completely hammed up since everyone loves to hate Spencer, and he definitely caters to that, but really, personality aside, his on again off again mustache/goatee would make anyone puke. Especially me. Back to my point, I think that they are contractually supposed to appear together, or appear to be together until the show is officially over with, you know, to keep people guessing on what happens the rest of the season. I don't know, the show is completely ridiculous and pointless but I can't stop watching it. It's perhaps the only show I watch on TV anymore besides Project Runway and seasonally AI. I can't watch news television for the obvious reasons (see the bullet above).
-Does anyone else think this season of Project Runway sucks significant butt? I do. Korto and Jerrell are probably the "best" designers on the show but that's not saying much since everyone else is completely worthless and Korto's personality is about as interesting as...anything in the world that is boring, flat, and completely monotone. And did anyone see Jerrell wearing those pants when he was dressed as a "rock star"....um, I was very uncomfortable with, you know.
-I'm growing out my hair so just bear with me for a few months, OK? If you don't like it now, well, shut it, I'm not cutting it short. I've had the same haircut since, birth, with it being short and bedhead-y. I'm over it. Everyone and their mother's brother has that haircut.
-Is purposely being splashed in the face the single most annoying thing on Earth or is there something more annoying that I wasn't aware of? I guess even non-purposeful face splashing is annoying. Even if it's just when someone's fingers are wet and they do that little flick-thing in your face causing microscopic water beads to fly directly into your eyes. That's still really annoying. I hate splashing.

I feel slightly better. I'll update this if a thought strikes me as being too heavy for my head to lug around.

Nostalgia.

Disturbia.

You get the idea.

So, I deleted my MySpace. Actually, rather...annoyingly, I could only delete the interface of my MySpace rather than cancel the account altogether. Turns out, back in 2005 when I first created a MySpace account, I arranged for the account to liaison with my college email, meaning any and all MySpace notifications were automatically directed to my college email. Why I set it up as such, I have no idea. After all, I graduated college in 2004. I didn't get a MySpace til 2005. Time warp to year 2008, I obviously no longer have access to my college email, since, I mean why would I? I'm over college and college is over me. Additionally, after graduating, I didn't take the 5 seconds to reroute future college email to a different, non-college, and all around universally-accessible email address. So, whatever is sent to my college email, I guess, stays there forever. Somewhere out there in the internets my unread college emails, whatever they may be, are compiling endlessly. Cool! I just hope I didn't win a million dollars...or even worse, missed out on a really funny (or informative) forward. Ugh, the possibilities...

Long story short, I can't deactivate my account without access to my college email so that I can open the "Confirm MySpace Account Deactivation" email Tom so nicely sent to me making absolutely certain I REALLY wanted to cancel my precious account.

I do, Tom. I do! But...can't. Oh well.

Despite this setback, I deleted everything off of my original site: pictures, friends, comments, etc. and made everything completely private to my now 0 friends with hopes that, someday, my site will be automatically deleted for general lack of use by the powers that be on MySpace.

The kicker is (and yes, there is a point to all of this), I accidentally clicked my MySpace inbox link and, while the page loaded, thought for a single, solitary second "You know what, I should probably delete every message in my inbox." Quickly, reality set in and it hit me like a bat out of hell that flew into my windshield like a ton of bricks only to later find out that my car insurance doesn't cover windshield replacements: there are some solid gold nuggets in that inbox! You'd be a fool to delete such treasure, matey! Arg!

OK, maybe my inbox isn't that cool, but at the least it can provide hours upon hours of entertainment and horror. I made up my mind. The sweat dripped from forehead as I intensively reviewed the computer screen before me: I had to fully ensure that the cancel button would indeed specifically cancel my original (stupid!) intention of deleting all selected messages.

Phew. Success. Inbox intact.

What a relief. I mean, next to graduating high school, preserving my inbox was hands down the best decision of my life. I mean, I had over 168 pages of messages to peruse. Wow. Bet you wish you could get your hands on some of those, don't you? Mhm. Raspberry jelly.

Ohh man...OH MAN, some were juicy, some were retarded, some were embarrassing, some made me smile, some made me mad, some made me laugh (but not lol, I almost never do that, a haha at the most) some were touching, and some made me squirm. By the end, I endured an endless range of emotion through each click. After looking through all 168 pages of random messages, it dawned on me that I've weirdly encountered a LOT of different people over the years, some I regret ever talking to while others I regret not getting to know better, or perhaps not taking the time to provide a reply. I also read messages from friends (former and current) that instantaneously transported me back to some interesting times, ideas, and situations. I would have completely forgotten most of these memories if it weren't for this overlooked gem of an inbox.

So fun.

In conclusion, any of you random weirdos out there that read this blog and used to check out my MySpace, well, I guess now you'll have to settle for just my blog. Unfortunate, I know...

But oh, you can easily find me on Facebook. Or in real life.

No, no. Make that just Facebook.

You know the Clay-mates are freaking something serious right.about.now.

Gaiken, c'mon. Like it's a surprise.

Was anyone else aware that this existed? Bear baiting? I had never heard of it until PETA emailed me something. Anyway, like I always say (or repeat?), knowledge is power.

Apparently it's occuring in the Middle East, and I'm assuming the government there has bigger fish to fry, but, still, take it upon yourself to do something.

Sidenote: Did anyone else know that 1 cup of Caesar dressing has 136 grams of fat and over 1200 calories? I had a caesar salad for lunch and they went stark-raving crazy on the dressing, so I did some research to see if what I just consumed was potentially problematic and HOLY SHIZZ...I'm in trouble.

I once described flaws as being fantastic. That statement still holds true. Flaws are fantastic. They're what makes us human. They keep us grounded. They document our inabilities and at the same time serve as a platform for improvement.

I have MANY flaws. And I'm not ashamed of a singe one. Embarrassed, perhaps. Ashamed, definitely not. Here's a running list:

-I'm disturbingly indecisive. I can't make up my mind about ANYTHING. It's tiresome, it haunts my sleep at times, and it's all around annoying.
-I'm incredibly lazy. Or perhaps I should say I'm a huge procrastinator. I'll put off getting a haircut for months just because I don't want to call to make an appointment.
-I'm horrible at math. I can't figure out tips on my own...or atleast I refuse to learn how to do it. I heard it wasn't hard. I don't do fractions either. It took hours and hours of tutoring to get me through Algebra I, Algebra II, and I cheated my way through Geometry thanks to my math-savvy friends in high school. How I passed tests though, I'll never figure it out. Luck, I suppose.
-I can't commit to anything: relationships, working out, saving money, laundry...it all seems like such a great idea at first and I'll be on board for awhile, but eventually it gets pushed way back on my priority list, the number one priority being sleeping, of course.
-I have a slight speech impediment. It typically goes unseen but it happens. Just a slight stutter/slur of my speech.
-I'm annoyingly impatient. If something is supposed to happen it better happen now.
-I almost never shave unless I absolutely have to. I hate shaving. I often look like a wild animal/barbarian because of it, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.
-I always take/order more food than necessary. I can't bear the thought of being hungry or not having enough food at any given time/meal.
-I almost always have a piece of gum in my mouth, and when I need to spit it out I'll put it anywhere. Trust me, I will find a spot. Swallowing is not an option.
-I don't do PC anything. People may take it offensively, may take it wrong...I really don't care. If it has to do with humor, observation, or just calling something what it is without sugarcoating or fear of being called out for it...I'm all about it. Life shouldn't be so serious and technical as people make it out to be. Yes, there's a time, place, and crowd for everything, agreed, but it's entirely plausible to comment on the world as it is without a user-friendly interface. We're not robots.
-I push the legal limits of appropriate places to be barefoot on a daily basis. I'd be barefoot all day, every day if it were street legal.
-Sometimes I talk WAY too much. Like I literally do not know when to shut my mouth and breathe. Anyone that has ever been on a date with me can surely attest to this.
-I claim I never snore, but in reality I once caught myself snoring. I don't know how it happened but it was like I was mentally awake but my body was still in sleep mode and I actually heard myself snore a very, very soft, perhaps even cute snore. I'm almost positive I only snore when I'm really tired. Or atleast I tell myself that.
-I make a habit of buying hats that I typically never wear. I probably own around 25 hats but I've actually worn maybe 7 or 8 of them...sporadically, too. Like, throughout years.
-Sometimes when I walk down the street I like to envision paparazzis hounding me.
-Here's a favorite quote of mine, and no, it's not by Emerson, Einstein, or Frost, but rather the movie Legally Blonde. The flaw is self-evident:

Elle: I feel comfortable using legal jargon in everyday life.
[someone whistles at her]
Elle: I object!

-I will defend myself or try to prove a point even if it requires large amounts of lies and fibs.
-I have a MySpace. MySpace is pretty much stupid and unnecessary. But do I have one? Yes. This is mostly a flaw since the only reason I have a MySpace is to let people stalk me, I mean, socially network me as a possible friend/interest. I'm tossing around the idea of deactivating it. Major life decisions, I know.

Anyway, that's enough for now. Ahhh, I feel better. Sharing your flaws doesn't mean people will see you as imperfect or inept, but rather it acknowledges that you really do know your personal shortcomings and are man/woman enough to admit them. Publically. Through this form of reveal, I feel fully confident (and somewhat obliged) to do something about it. With all this out, now is the time to grow as an adult and improve, strengthen, and tackle these flaws, head on, apply directly to the forehead.

Sorry, anyway, back to my point.

Step 1: throw gum in trash can...

Done. Wow, that was easy.

I'm already on my way!

Props to Amtrak. I find it important to recognize (even in a small way) good customer service, mostly because in this day and age it's somewhat of a rarity, especially in the transportation sector.

So, the gist. A couple of weeks ago I booked Amtrak tickets, as I typically do in order to travel to my parents' house that's around 2 hours west of Chicago. I really don't mind taking Amtrak since I don't have to deal with traffic or pay insane gas prices (which is perfect since I'm in full support of reducing dependence on this resource), and it's actually a nice, easy ride. Plus it's cheap--$30 round trip. The only bad thing about it is that I don't exactly live next door to Union Station, where I depart and arrive back to, so hauling luggage and taking public transportation to get there and back isn't exactly a chill-dog event.

Anyway, so, I'm supposed to leave today at 5:55 pm from Chicago. I looked at my confirmation email just to make sure everything was set. Uh, glad I did. I noticed that my email noted a September 18th departure date. Um, today is the 17th. Right?! I checked my desktop calender icon on my computer. Sure enough, the 17th. My computer is right, right? Checked the iphone. Yep, for sure.

OK, soooo, small panic, but no big deal because the Amtrak is almost NEVER full. In all actuality, it's always pretty much not even close to full. That glass is half empty. So I called Amtrak to modify this slight oversight. I'm almost positive that I booked the trip for the 17th because I had planned on that departure date for weeks now.

Surely, I am not to blame.

So I call and go through the automated blah blah blah, and it sends me to a ticketing agent. So I brace myself to remain calm at all times because ticketing agents are skillfully and strategically trained to be matter of fact, you know how they are. Whatever is on their screen is on their screen and they have no time for any excuses. So, Lamisha gets on the phone, and from the second she sighed into the phone before even introducing herself, I knew this was going to get sticky.

Lamisha:*sigh*...thank you for...........calling Amtrak Ticketing Services, this is Lamisha, how may I serve your ticket-...........ting needs..........today...?

This was stated in several non-sugarcoated, flat, decaffeinated, non-interested breaths/sighs.

Me: Hi, um, I just noticed that my ticket was printed wrong...weirdest thing...I had booked it for a departure date on the 17th weeks ago, and now that I'm getting ready to leave, I double checked the confirmation email and, I have no idea why, but it says I'm leaving on the 18th. I need to leave today, can you modify the date for..

Lamisha: Sir what is your reservation number, slowly please.

Me: Blah.....blah....blah blah...blah....blah blah.

Lamisha: *sigh*...sir it says right here you booked your ticket with a departure date on the 18th.

Me: Shoot, OK, well I need to leave today. Can you help me?

Lamisa: Sir, I'll change it, but that requires you to pay today's ticket rate which is $6 more than what you already paid.

Me: Um, hmm, is there any way around that because I was under the impression I put in the 17th? I'm not really modifying my reservation, I'm trying to get it back to the way it was originally planned.

Lamisha: Sir, no, no, sir there is no way around this. This ticket was booked online. You put in the dates. I didn't. I am not responsible for this error, you either pay today's ticket rate or you travel tomorrow.

Me: I understand this was probably on my end, but it was an accident. I just want..

Lamisha: Sir, you have the two options I just said, do you want me to repeat them...?

Me: Um, I want to talk to someone else.

Lamisha: Mhm, of course you do...

I was transferred on impact. She probably Z-snapped me immediately preceding the transfer operation. So, I'm slightly amused at how ridiculous this is, but slightly frustrated that I potentially have to pay more money to change this reservation. Yes it's only $6 and yes, again, it was probably my fault anyway, but still...there's no reason for me to pay today's fare. The same amount of people are going to be on tomorrow's train that are going to be on today's train. I'm not crowding the train or jamming up the system. I'm just changing days. No, no...I'm fixing the scheduling error somebody made. I had always planned to leave today anyway. No biggie, right? I didn't think so...

So I pressed on, apparently being transferred to customer relations.

Markus: Hello, my name is Markus, an agent for Amtrak's Customer Relations Department, how are you doing today?

Me: I'm doing well, thanks, how are you?

Markus: Very well. Do you have an issue I can help you resolve?

Me: Well, I guess so, I need to modify my reservation and Lamisha, the ticketing agent, said I couldn't do that unless I pay today's going rate in addition to what I already paid for the tickets. Somehow, my ticket says I leave tomorrow when I booked it to leave today.

Markus: Alright Sir, what is your reservation number?

Me: Blah blah blah......

Markus: One moment Sir, we'll have your ticket modified so that you safely arrive to your destination today. Ah yes, you are scheduled to leave tomorrow, and you'd like to leave today at the same time, I presume?

Me: Correct!

Markus: Alright Sir, give me one moment and I will reset your itinerary to today. Okay, you're off and running! You leave Chicago today at 5:55 pm from Gate D, anything else I can do for you?

Me: Awesome, thanks Markus! I appreciate it. That's all I needed.

Markus: OK then, thank you for calling, and safe travels!

YEAH, LAMISHA. That's how it should be done. YES, I get it, it was probably my fault in the first place but, at the end of the day, that's how you treat a customer you are providing a service to.

To turn the tables, I too have no patience with rude/stupid people. I don't necessarily believe myself to be rude or stupid, but I'm sure I annoyed Lamisha to no end. I am the person/my situation was exactly the thing that makes her day redundant and irritating, yes, agreed. Fine. But long ago, I also recognized that I have no customer service skills whatsoever and would be HORRIBLE at handling annoying, stupid people all day. I mean, I'm always very nice to customer service people when shit happens...I fully realize that it's an enormously sucky job to deal with often overly enraged morons that want someone to fix their mistakes, got it, but still, in the sphere of all that is customer service there's a way to handle it, and there's a way not to handle it. Lamisha's attitude was that of, I hate my job, I hate customers, and I especially hate you Mr. Sumner. Whereas Markus' attitude was I have bills to pay, I'm going to do my job to the best of my ability, and I'm going to talk to customers like actual people, whether they are or not. Personally, I'm always try my best to be nice to people, everyone, regardless if I want to be. I don't do confrontation, I don't do back talking, and I'm not desensitized to understanding and appreciating those whom are different.

Lamisha, I'm sure you're on the verge of quitting anyway, or maybe you're just trying to get through your work day the only way you know how. I get it. Someone once freaked out at me when I worked at Pacific Sunwear years ago for something that had nothing to do with me, but that's just the name of the game. I'm nice, so why don't you be nice?

Be like Markus.
Cheers to Markus.

I don't really have much to say.
My head has felt rather light.

And so have my shoulders,
that can only be a good thing.

Except when I woke up this morning I had a headache,
or at least I dreamt that I had a headache, and it stayed with me.
Or is it the other way around?
I'm not sure.

I told myself last night that, in the morning, I need to use a small bowl for Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, not an oversized bowl.
When morning came, I used the oversized one.
It's the reason I get out of bed.
That and my job, I guess. But more so the Cheerios.

On the bus this morning, I tried to remember:
Posture is key.
The hunchback look is easy to assume,
however, not easy on the eyes though. Especially from a perspective other than my own.

Some lady yelled at me in the elevator for having a tattoo.
Her rude looks and verbal accusations were cut short when the door closed between us.
I wanted to yell back at her for wearing stretch pants, but no,
I'm the bigger person.

She also had a dumb hairdo. Real frizzy.

Walking outside in the Fall air makes me happy. It makes me think of days past, but at the same time, makes me feel more alive than ever. It has something to do with the color of the sunsets, or the smell in the air, or the crisp temperatures. I'm not sure, but it's good. Real good.

I'm sure this doesn't make sense, it's not intended to, it's just a spree of thoughts sent to the keyboard.

Publish Post, enter. Save.

Cya.

I think pigs are pretty. So, if you put lipstick on one, um even better. Miss Piggy was a total dame.

Segueing, I find the whole Sarah Palin frenzy very interesting. Actually, I find Sarah Palin very interesting. In fact, I down right like her. Does her VP potential sway me enough to vote for John McCain? Absolutely not, but I still like her. She seems like a great person. Could she be an awesome President? I don't know. Similarly, I don't know that Obama can be an awesome President. After all, his presidency is built upon a platform of "hope." Yes, I too hope he's all that everyone makes him out to be. However, like Sarah, I think Obama is a great person and since his campaign is more in line with my ideals than McCain's, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and my vote. We'll see how it goes, I mean he couldn't possibly make things worse, could he? I hope not.

Obama's supporters are in a very interesting position though and, via what I see and hear from them, I'm very disenchanted. Correct me if I'm wrong, but, didn't both Obama and his dutiful supporters have a "we're only going to do positive campaigning, no room for dirty politics here!" attitude and political ethic? Since Palin has been brought into the ring, it's very much the opposite.

Obama supporters are largely hypocritical, and at times, downright nasty. A Facebook status is seemingly the perfect place for Obama supporters to communicate their political beliefs. I've read things like "Did McCain seriously vet that bitch" or "Sarah Palin is a slutbag whore!" and, my favorite, "Obama is godlike."

Obama is not godlike. He's a politician. Not God. Ooh, also, Obamapaths are also REALLY interested in Palin's teenage daughter who is, gasp, pregnant!

C'mon. You can do better than trying to push "Palin could never be VP with a pregnant teenage daughter!" act. It's absurd and irrelevant. You just wait, before you know it Obama's daughters will be on Maury awaiting a lie detector/DNA test. It's all a matter of time--give it 5 years.

Just F'ing vote for who you want to be President and leave your garbage in the trash. Better yet, recycle it.