you big fuck up

in the midst of studying, i realize the potential of failure once again. it's not that failure is bad, it's that it's expensive. $210 per exam. retaking exams does not bode well for the bank account. the way that i tend to learn and realize things though is by a thinking-and-acting feedback. this comes from having an idea, making or drawing with my hands, and then sitting back and thinking some more. so sometimes i do something, analyze the result, and then go back and tweak things. it's not about think think think do, it's about do think do think do. that came out that wrong? okay, why - oh i see, how about this for that reason, let's give this a nudge and see where we go. exams don't really work that way. it's less about searching out an answer and more about proving you already know them. no bullshitting, just spew out what you know into this bucket. these are one shot deals. if you fail you go through a six month waiting period, forget everything, then one more shot. no back and forth, no fiddling until you get it right.

so yeah i tend to panic. late at night, one week to go. i feel sick and nervous and scared. will this ever happen? maybe i'm just stupid and should accept that? just be a junior designer the rest of my life, sitting in the position that my bosses have allotted and never demand anything better because i can't seem to prove that i AM better? how much should i spend before i have to admit that it isn't going to happen? there are three years left on the rolling clock. six more exams, three more years. if i'm going to give myself time for retakes, i have to do more than two exams per year. maybe four per year? or hell why not six per year, give each exam two retakes. math is fun! i'm mad at myself. mad for fucking around all summer. mad for not being able to focus, mad for not figuring the right answers on the multiple choice questions the first time, mad for trying to fit into this stupid fucking box with stupid fucking answers for a stupid fucking organization for the sake of a stupid fucking license.

i'm tired of this lingering bullshit. i want these done so i can move on with my life. there are other projects i want to give attention, other aspects of my life i want to focus on. i want respect at work and in my profession. i want to finally and legally be allowed to call myself an architect. really though, what i want most in the world is when all this is said and done, i can finally become the heroin addict that i've always dreamed of being!

ode to a wedding

we know this role. we have seen it, been it, misunderstood it, felt pity for it. that moment when you realize the singles table is not really, when the eighth wheel becomes the fifth becomes the third. when you realize that this path is so foreign that few brush have been cleared so why are we doing this again? it's less about about having someone magical doing tricks and more about how the interactions between an entire group fixate on their other instead of everyone. we are out together but there is this constant return to base camp. some married couples are better at drifting but the newer ones cannot stop touching. and apologizing for touching.

and i fight so hard to not be lonely. texting friends in other cities asking for hugs. because what else can we clarify about taking the other road. not easy, yes. lonely, sure. missing something important? probably. i can't break through. stop telling me i will. this is how it goes, this is where it sits. outside this hello.

are you mad at me?

while out at a bar, a friend asked me the other night if i knew anything about people being mad at him. folks were giving him the cold shoulder, did i know of anything? it was unexpected to hear this from that person, being as we are really only acquaintances and don't share close confidences. it must have taken something to cross that boundary, something bothersome and driving enough to ask that question.

i knew of no such irritations towards him, so i relayed that information and some comfort. gave him my seat. i knew that feeling. where you think you have friends, but they come off as dismissive, not interacting with you in ways that they had before. there is an insecurity there, an imbalance of attention.

i brought this up with another common friend, and while she said that's too bad, she also said that he's being self centered as it's totally imagined. i don't really follow that. if you are getting vibes and social cues off people, and interpreting them a certain way - it can effect you. it may be a misinterpretation and the intention to slight may not really be there of course, but it takes effort to purposefully extend yourself to others - on both sides. sometimes we drop this gesture in the flurry of late night activity between drinks and darkened spaces, and sometimes people who have been dropped find themselves needing that reassurance.

the self centered comment bothered me as it also harkens to the expectation that when out in public everyone should be happy and reeling with joy. it's pretty dismissive. i certainly know that panic in my chest when things aren't clicking for me and i struggle to know what to say, or who to talk to about what, etc. i get that not everyone wants to deal with someone that isn't feeling it - who wants to babysit eeyore when you're bouncing about feeling good? that's understandable, but what also needs to be understood is that bouncing about does not come naturally for everyone and that being told to smile is really a slap in the face.

one gigantic fuck you comin right atcha

"there is no gwb in a prewar exterior wall unless its an infill or a layer over the masonry plaster wall - pls try to use language appropriately."

this is a precious little note for me left by my precious little asshole of a boss. this is in reference to a note on a drawing that i annotated months ago. it's in reference to an existing condition, so who knows wtf material it's actually made of and the whole point of the stupid fucking note is that the contractor is going to fucking patch and repair it, whatever it turns out to be! so who cares! jesus christ you fucking asshole!

i worked a 12 hr day yesterday and i'm working again today, on a saturday, to get this fucking project done. don't leave me fucking condescending notes like this if you want me to come in on the weekend and not blow this whole fucking place to smithereens. yes i am blogging about work. no i'm not really going to blow this place up. i will however take monday off to job hunt. fuck this fucking shithole.

mess

i'm packing up my lunch in the kitchen this morning and my thoughts drift to work. i am reminded of the review i had recently and how i was told i don't pay enough attention to detail for residential projects, and how in the meeting yesterday the bossman criticized my drawing for not having shims against the wall and the millworker man said he knew what to do anyway. one of the reasons i've been relegated to retail is because my details are apparently not up to snuff. things in retail are quick and dirty and ugly and half assed. apparently i belong here. everything i've learned has been from this bossman but who would he be to take that responsibility. the onus is on me. thinking about all of this made me start crying. i really don't want to go to work today.

time bomb

i am slowly becoming someone i don't like. i'm that person at work, kind of uptight, control freak, doesn't smile, makes your day suck. i hate what i'm working on, i'm resentful and jealous of what others get to do, and there just isn't any respect to speak of, so why do i bother? why do i stay late, struggling to meet ridiciulous deadlines? why don't i say "no i can't do it all, go fuck yourselves?" instead i have become the passive aggressive time bomb that mutters irritations under her breath. the stress creeps up, not giving any warning but just sort of settling in, a slow boil. i don't consider myself the sort to be stressed, but i think because i'm not typically this way i don't really know how to resolve it either.

i ride my bike angry, which could be dangerous if i don't pay attention. i curse at every other car, blame others as much as possible for getting in my way. MOVE! i want to scream and scream as i ride back and forth in this mindnumbing routine of day in day out the same old shit blurring together until there is no distinction, until i try to use my work keys to get into my apartment building, until i feel like i'm always in this elevator going back and forth, up and down, hating the work but grateful for money.

money. money is the root of all this bullshit. i think about money everyday. not the daydreaming sort "if i had a million dollars i would..." i don't even know how to daydream anymore. i am balancing my account constantly, retooling how much i allow myself to spend. alloting things so i can get by, so i can eat at the end of the month. trimming the fat, no more drinking no more movies no more candy. at work i'm forced to think about money, budget this design, make this deadline, where can we cut corners. at home it's student loans, bills, rent. large expenses crop up - repairs, dead computer, cavities. the management company for my building lost my rent check or it never arrived in the mail, do i write a new one and cancel the old, it's $15 to cancel a check, what if the old one comes and they cash BOTH? can i even trust the postal service anymore? living in the grand canyon of debt, the land of paycheck to paycheck - i have never had savings. i will never be able to save. people save up, people buy houses. i draw them, but i will never own one. i just don't exist in that realm of possibility.

i've pulled away from some "friends" in hopes that focusing on my studies will yield better results for my future. sometimes i hear about fun things going on, but i try to resist caving in. i wasted so much of this summer just drinking and messing around and making mistakes and not getting anything done. it was fun, i guess, but there is nothing to show for it. i'm still not licensed, i'm still not respected at work, i'm still not legally allowed to call myself an architect even though that's what i am. i'm tired of this rut, i'm tired of this hate, i am tired of this fucking whining bullshit crap. i'm even sick of me at this point.

next exam will be in october, once i schedule it. before or after my vacation, i don't know. yes, vacation. my first paid vacation since i was laid off three years ago. i could study on the trip, get more learning in while i can. or i could cram it all in the next three weeks, just fucking take it and hope for the best. the plan is to schedule it for before i go, and pay the $35 to reschedule it for later if i don't feel confident enough. confidence is everything. the one exam i passed i went in there with a degree of certainty. the problem with this kind of confidence is you can't bullshit your way into it - it's going to take some hard hours in the books this next month to make this happen.

i'm sure you don't want any of this

what is this
plain, blah, white, male, vaguely attractive.

oh but

yeah i know, but no

so what else?











yeah i dunno

external memory card

i feel like life is slipping away from me, time is passing too fast and i'm not keeping track. my brain doesn't have much storage, apparently. a lot of clutter up there. the reason i take so many pictures, the reason i have to write things down - i do this so i can remember. it's not that anything is particularly important - in fact the majority of it probably isn't. so i really shouldn't panic about not being able to remember, right? yet the thought that there are experiences that i've been through that are just giant hazy blank spots - this is troublesome. not quite frightening, but definitely on the verge of a subtle panic. you cannot control what you don't know. what's done is done so really there is nothing to control, but how can you go forward when you can't even remember what's already happened?

this is why i'm going to start writing here again on a more regular basis.

the fool

"The Fool is the spirit in search of experience. He represents the mystical cleverness bereft of reason within us, the childlike ability to tune into the inner workings of the world. The sun shining behind him represents the divine nature of the Fool's wisdom and exuberance, holy madness or 'crazy wisdom'. On his back are all the possessions he might need. In his hand there is a flower, showing his appreciation of beauty. He is frequently accompanied by a dog, sometimes seen as his animal desires, sometimes as the call of the "real world", nipping at his heels and distracting him. He is seemingly unconcerned that he is standing on a precipice, apparently about to step off."

i may have made this post before. i may be going in circles, never learning from my mistakes. my mistakes - which are so humble and easy for every one else to puzzle out, yet i still struggle stuck here at the beginning. my beginning which was everyone else's five years ago - those that have moved on and figured out how not to get involved in such stupidity. "it's their loss" - in reality is actually my own loss, of time and effort, pride and energy. yes i get it. not direct but subtle enough for signs delivered to be read loud and clear.

this is what i deserve, i suppose. karma coming back to me for not settling for less. it's been a rough week, i can't seem to do right in any situation. i want to drop off the planet and be done with everything. say goodbye to all these people, all this bullshit, and just fucking focus on my own crap. the way i did that one year when i actually designed something good, oh so long ago. is it worth it? i'm so behind. in everything i do, i don't take risks and i try to control what the end result will be to the point of where i don't damage until now, until this week where everything out of my control just collapses into a giant pile of failures.

i'm trying to disconnect. i tell myself not to care, i'm too old for this, etc. i see the drama and i step away, or maybe pretend i don't care and laughing it all off when really i am dying inside. i wonder if anyone knows how much i lie to the world. i am the worst liar ever but not one ever seems to notice.

33

my parents usually call me once a year on my birthday. it's not that we're estranged or that we never talk, it's that they don't want to pay for long distance service. it's free for me so i usually end up calling them every couple months to check in, see if they're still alive and what's going on (not much, same old same old.) when i tell people with overbearing parents about this they tend to be jealous of this laissez-faire attitude, but i sort of wonder what the opposite kind of relationship would be like - to know the everyday, to connect more than a few times a year.

they didn't call yesterday. i waited, checked my phone regularly to see that the ringer volume was up, even mentioned to friends i was waiting for an important call. i told myself maybe they were waiting for the evening, or after dinner, or after tv shows were over. or right before going to bed. i am guessing since i called a couple weeks ago on my mom's birthday that they didn't feel any talking was needed. i did notice a little bit of cash appear into my bank account, deposited from my bank branch near their house. i suppose i'll use that towards the purchase of a new camera. money is cool. i wish they had called though.

heartbreak

i lost my camera. i don't know what bothers me more - that i can't afford a new one, or that i don't remember when i last used it.

here we go on.

taking steps 2 x 2 because we're not getting any younger. i miss us, the friends we were, the ideal deep connection. none of this superficial 372 friends on fb, but the few i could count on my hand. they are all married, prospecting on children, moving on to the next step in the instructions. people try to solve it but my existence doesn't fit. i found refuge though, superficial comradery abounds. there are pleasures to be had in this escape artist world, but i am also aware of how quick we are to leave. things catch up with age and this here cheese is quite ripe. searching out slow quiet talks, the one on one. finding the worries as they unfolded, not ready in the mind but escaping in the tongue. if things were different i would give. i see why people cut off. wary, only capable with few. good luck with that. i will cheer when you are gone from us forever. happy for you, though secretly waiting. i'll be right back here if it all falls through.

oh so it's like this

the only people that i get involved with are the ones that pursue me, but most of the time i'm not really interested in them. the ones i'm interested in i'm too scared to pursue. so i don't really get anywhere with anyone so therefore hence hitherto conclusion being: i'm not really meant to procreate.

the new coworker in the office is a source of much vexation on my part. while she glitters and shines next to me, every flaw on me is illuminated. she strolls into the office in her immaculate jcrew/banana republic/ann taylor warbrobe, does a spin and everyone goes aaaahh. she leans into every conversation that has nothing to do with her so she can add her two cents, she makes cute little laughs as though she belongs, she nods wisely when i mention something - not to her - and says "yes that's a good thing to know!" as though patting me on the back for finally figuring it out. boy does she like to educate those of us idiots that don't know shit! meanwhile, she has half as much experience as me and yet is getting paid a dollar per hour more.

i have to restrain myself from doing violent things to her and anytime i vent about the things she does i sound crazy. i hate how this anger clogs my mind, brings me down into a dead end world with no resolution. i hate how 8 hours of my day everyday are spent in this dark pit of frustration and sadness. i hate how the only way out is to go elsewhere, something that terrifies me. i updated my resume, at least. i just need to take that leap and start looking.

oh no! i'm blogging about work on the internet. soon they will find this and discover that i am a dangerous person and my career will be ruined forever. oh the horror! i'm endangering my shitty, dead-end career with no hopes of ever advancing or making that extra dollar to put me on equal ground with super star over here. since i'm blogging about work and since i'm sure they will find me out, let's clear the air then - hey boss, you're a dick. the way you treat people is fucking horrible. talking down to people doesn't get us anywhere. oh, and by the way? the drawings you are criticizing me of drawing so poorly? i didn't do these, i'm just a visitor to this fucking project. you know, the minion that you push around to do the dirty work. all this shit you see - that's the other guy. i'll fix his mess, but don't pin your anger on me. i know i'm a perfect target because i'm easily replacable with super star over there gunning to take my place but you can just go fuck yourself.

fuck this know-it-all bitch and the resume she rode in on. fuck this office and it's "you need to take a paycut so the business can survive" bullshit. fuck this fucking place. fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you all and have a nice day.

trapped

my head is spinning and it needs to get sorted. i keep going down one path which terrifies and disgusts me. i am looking back and seeing what i really want and wonder how i got here. i silently say no i don't want this, but i never say it out loud so the bus keeps driving forward. i spend hours imaging how things could be if i would have just been brave and stood my ground all those months ago.

i've been hating myself a lot lately.

stop, that shit is sharp

i was called a cactus the other night by a new friend, which came out of the blue but after giving it some consideration and thinking about the source (or secondary source, or however many people had this discussion to come to this conclusion), i get where this is coming from. also, my history of being a cactus is not unfounded - i think this has been linked to me a time or two in the past.

right now there are multiple purposes for this behavior, and it bothers me that someone keeps trying to break down the barriers that were put there for very good reasons. i don't want to play games, or lead people on - i will give you what i can, when i can and when i want. right now i just want friends and and fun and to not to think or worry about anything stupid. not thinking has been working so well for so long, why fuck with it now.

on another note, work is fucking insane and there are new employees to deal with. one of them in particular (with less experience than myself) is the biggest know-it-all and i have glorious daydreams of smacking this person upside the head with a baseball bat. let's just say it makes it hard to be friendly and welcoming. more cactus. stressed much? yeah,you could say that. hence the desire to want to turn my brain off once i get off the clock. i'm drifting right now i know... but whatever, who cares.

shame

it's one of those days where you wake up and cringe because you remember what you did the night before. the kind of night where you can't blame the alcohol because you weren't really drinking that much to begin with. the kind of night where everything was off and nothing seemed to go right, where jokes you made failed and just being you displeased one person after another. apologies received with cold silence, smiles disappeared quickly, everyone scattered early because it just wasn't fun anymore. the magic has faded and people know who i really am now.

also, addendum, now that i'm pissed off - people that are competitive dicks about "sports" that aren't actually sports are the worst.

ok, second addendum, pps - a part of growing thicker skin is not caring if you piss people off. as an offshoot of that, it's knowing that this will lead to occasional social isolation and being okay with that.

options

options options options options options. eyes open and everything in front. here it is and here we go, this is what it takes. i see this option, i declare to stop with the cheek kisses and just dive in.

come forth.

shaking nostalgia

i'm finding it hard to work myself back to a friend zone with someone. there is the hard part of hearing from friends what that person is up to, and the act of eventually seeing them with someone else. i've come to realize i don't like giving someone access to that level of vulnerability and then be forced to revert back to a lower level after. it took a lot of dealing with fear to allow anyone up there in the first place. now there is resentment at being left alone at that level, at them seeing what they've seen and then gone on with that intimate information in mind. knowing me too well and having that degree of power.

the difficult part about this is being an adult, behaving appropriately and doing as required. he wants to be friends, pushing for it from the moment things ended. out of sight out of mind has always worked best for me. i said i needed time, but i get weak and feel bad as though i'm treating him mean and ruining what actually is a good friendship. at the same time, every time we talk we slide back into the comfortable way it was before and i get sad again, i feel the fool for filling the void he has until he finds whatever the hell he's gone on looking for in someone else. so i pull away again, hiding, and then he comes round wanting to know how he can fit into my schedule. i make up excuses of busyness, other plans, another life. i feign moving on and time gone by and nothing bothering me. it's not that i actually want to be in it again or a rewind on the tape, it's that i need so much time - more than usual - for the last shred of this ridiculousness to fade. i expel these silly thoughts, this bitterness, this regret onto this page. here you go, you deal with it. i've had enough for now.