It was a good weekend, but very busy. Anthony was out of town at a wedding during its entirety, which made me sad. Yesterday, though, we saw Alice in Wonderland: 3D. Yes, I'm late, I know, but fuck it. I thought it was a rather dull and overall bad movie. I've never read the book(s), but I found the plot to be horrible and oversimplified. Everything was too easy for Alice. After the film, we went bowling! That was pretty cool.
Then we drove to some backwoods gas station to buy scratch-off lotto tickets. Anthony says it's the luckiest place ever and he always wins when he gets them there. So we go out of our way to snag some tix, and as it turns out, the place was closed. There was no sign stating their hours, so I assume they just close whenever they feel like it. It is in the country, after all, still, I was a trifle miffed.
After that, we drove downtown to get a sandwich at Pickleman's. Mine was pretty good, though I did feel sort of like a traitor, eating a competitor's sandwich and all. But then I remembered that I have no loyalty to Subway and ate the bbq chicken sub with a smile. Their prices are steep compared to ours though. But Anthony paid, so it's all good.
As we were leaving the establishment, and walking down the street back to my apartment, this guy runs out of nowhere, punches another dude in the face, and runs off. This vigilante in front of us was having none of that. He threw his sandwich onto the ground (he went to the same place we did) and yelled "Yo! You stop! You hit that guy in the fucking nose, stop!" He chased the kid down, grabbed him and threw him against the wall. "I'm calling the police!" he announced to the guys. Anthony and I were just standing across the street, jaws dropped, staring. It was a wonderful show.
This hero pinned the puncher against the wall with his hip and whipped his phone out. He called Anthony over for back-up. He went. I didn't want him to. It was a big mess, the guy was pouring blood all over himself and the sidewalk- it was a massacre. It turns out the two were friends. Apparently the punched had had sex with the puncher's cousin and he didn't like that. Or something. The hero called the cops, but the "friends" got away. Anthony was cool while defusing it. That was down the street from my apartment. Pretty cool.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Carcinogen Shame
Today I covered a 5-midnight shift for a coworker. As it turned out, I was too tired, having worked long shifts for the past couple of days, so I made a deal with someone else to cover me. Megan, my friend, was supposed to get off at 10, but switched with me and left at midnight instead. As a token of my appreciation, I offered to go pick her up some cigarettes, since I knew she'd been craving them and begging people to get her some.
Around 1o i hit up the gas station. As it turned out, I super embarrassed to be seen buying cigarettes. I didn't anyone I knew to stumble upon me buying this atrocious thing. Not only did I buy them, but then I had to bring them into the store too. I knew all the customers were staring at me in shocked disgust. I was going to stash them in my back pocket so no one would see, but I was afraid she wouldn't want my butt cigarettes.
I've never liked cigarettes, but I was surprised by the shame I felt, even when they weren't mine. Anthony smokes, and he knows I find it disgusting. It's the smell I don't like, gross. He even Fabreezes himself off when he goes home so his mom won't know he smokes. I told him that he's 24 and worried about his mother finding out he smokes? "You're a pussy," I said. He said he's kind because his mom's dad died of lung cancer, so he's saving her the pain of knowing he smokes. I told him that was pathetic reasoning and that he lacks balls. We're at a standstill on that one.
But kissing him isn't like kidding an ashtray. If he's just taken a drag, though, it's gross. I don't think I get embarrassed when he smokes, though, I just feel sadness. I guess people can think whatever they want of him, just don't think I'm a smoke breather.
I also learned that they can't put "light" on cigarettes anymore because apparently it makes people think they're healthier than normal cigs. That's ridiculous.
Around 1o i hit up the gas station. As it turned out, I super embarrassed to be seen buying cigarettes. I didn't anyone I knew to stumble upon me buying this atrocious thing. Not only did I buy them, but then I had to bring them into the store too. I knew all the customers were staring at me in shocked disgust. I was going to stash them in my back pocket so no one would see, but I was afraid she wouldn't want my butt cigarettes.
I've never liked cigarettes, but I was surprised by the shame I felt, even when they weren't mine. Anthony smokes, and he knows I find it disgusting. It's the smell I don't like, gross. He even Fabreezes himself off when he goes home so his mom won't know he smokes. I told him that he's 24 and worried about his mother finding out he smokes? "You're a pussy," I said. He said he's kind because his mom's dad died of lung cancer, so he's saving her the pain of knowing he smokes. I told him that was pathetic reasoning and that he lacks balls. We're at a standstill on that one.
But kissing him isn't like kidding an ashtray. If he's just taken a drag, though, it's gross. I don't think I get embarrassed when he smokes, though, I just feel sadness. I guess people can think whatever they want of him, just don't think I'm a smoke breather.
I also learned that they can't put "light" on cigarettes anymore because apparently it makes people think they're healthier than normal cigs. That's ridiculous.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Stop with the sex
My neighbors have been having loud sex for the past 30 minutes. Their bed is right behind my head, and its post keeps hitting the wall behind me. She's a screamer. I can't take it. It's disturbing me and driving me crazy. It's filling me with anger.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Suicide, Part 2
I can't stop thinking about this kid. I didn't know, never heard of him, yet I can't get him out of my mind.
Why did he do it? Did he call someone while he was on the ledge? Who? Did they answer? What did they say? Did they think he was joking? Did they tell him to stop being so dramatic? Did he have no one to call?
While he was falling, what was he thinking? Was he happy with his decision?
Did anyone see it coming? Did he do it because he didn't want to go back home, where his homelife sucks? Were finals too stressful? Was he gay and afraid to come out? Was he lonely?
What did his parents think? Does he have parents? Was he an only child?
Why did he pick the parking garage? What did he yell that the janitor heard?
Did he think he'd fly, that it was a joke, and not real? What happens after you die?
Why did he do it? What made him think he had no other options? Is life really that bad?
Did he leave a note? What did it say? Who found it?
Will the garage be haunted? Why why why? Does he get to watch the aftermath from Heaven?
Was it an accident? Foul play?
I hope the autopsy turns up acid or shrooms. A drug death would be better than a depression death, at least he would've been happy, probably.
But really, I don't understand what makes a person do that. What leads to it. Were there any signs? Did he have anyone to talk to? He was attractive, but was college just not what he thought it'd be? Did a girl dump him or snub him? Was it a mach/bravado/dare that made him jump?
I guess I'll never know the answers to these questions, but I can't shut my brain off. I wonder what his last thought was, if he could've left his body before he hit, who the last person he talked to was, what he said, what they said, what the last youtube video he watched was, what was the last film he saw in theaters, the last food he ate, music he heard, test he took, person he kissed, hand he held, fantasy he had. I wonder what his future could've been.
I wonder and I worry and I stress and it's a shame. I didn't know him.
I shouldn't care.
Why did he do it? Did he call someone while he was on the ledge? Who? Did they answer? What did they say? Did they think he was joking? Did they tell him to stop being so dramatic? Did he have no one to call?
While he was falling, what was he thinking? Was he happy with his decision?
Did anyone see it coming? Did he do it because he didn't want to go back home, where his homelife sucks? Were finals too stressful? Was he gay and afraid to come out? Was he lonely?
What did his parents think? Does he have parents? Was he an only child?
Why did he pick the parking garage? What did he yell that the janitor heard?
Did he think he'd fly, that it was a joke, and not real? What happens after you die?
Why did he do it? What made him think he had no other options? Is life really that bad?
Did he leave a note? What did it say? Who found it?
Will the garage be haunted? Why why why? Does he get to watch the aftermath from Heaven?
Was it an accident? Foul play?
I hope the autopsy turns up acid or shrooms. A drug death would be better than a depression death, at least he would've been happy, probably.
But really, I don't understand what makes a person do that. What leads to it. Were there any signs? Did he have anyone to talk to? He was attractive, but was college just not what he thought it'd be? Did a girl dump him or snub him? Was it a mach/bravado/dare that made him jump?
I guess I'll never know the answers to these questions, but I can't shut my brain off. I wonder what his last thought was, if he could've left his body before he hit, who the last person he talked to was, what he said, what they said, what the last youtube video he watched was, what was the last film he saw in theaters, the last food he ate, music he heard, test he took, person he kissed, hand he held, fantasy he had. I wonder what his future could've been.
I wonder and I worry and I stress and it's a shame. I didn't know him.
I shouldn't care.
A nearby suicide
I was supposed to work the 7 PM- 3 AM shift at Subway last night. Instead, someone randomly offered to switch with me, because they know I don't like getting off that late. So instead I worked 4-12. After I got off, I went home. I read a book, ate some sour gummy worms and drifted to a peaceful sleep.
It was peaceful until I was awoken by an annoying loud noise, it sounded like a big truck was doing construction work outside my apartment. I woke and yelled "goddamn you! Have you no decency?? Let me sleep! Let me sleeeeeep!" No light was seeping through my blinds, which should have been a clue that it wasn't construction. I thought about checking my watch, but didn't want to know the time. I thought about looking out the window to see what it was, but figured it didn't matter and I didn't want to get out of covers. I'm glad I did nothing. If I had, I probably would've seen ambulances and firetrucks, and being curious, I would've gone to investigate. I would've seen something I could never take back. (My perverse curiosity got the best of me once, and I went on the site "rotten.com". It was horrible and I'll never get the image I saw out of my mind.).
This morning I strolled into my newspaper gig at around noon. When I got there Nancy, my boss, said "Jess, did you hear what happened last night?"
"Don't think so. What happened?"
"A kid killed himself outside your building." I was taken aback. "Say what?"
"Yeah, kid jumped off the parking garage."
I was floored. I went online to see our paper, and they had a blurb saying the kid was a 20 yr old sophomore.
"But that's not how we found out..." Nancy went on to tell me that a janitor who works the building had just gotten off work. He was walking to his car when he heard a man yell. He looked around, saw no one, and kept walking.
Then, right behind him, the kid hit the ground.
The janitor was scared, naturally, and took off running. Then when his senses came back to him, he stopped, turned around and called 911.
Now here's the kicker: this happened around 3:30 AM. Had I not switched my shift, there is a strong possibility that I would have been passing by when he offed himself.
Can you imagine just walking down the street at 3:30 AM- probably already spooked, since you're alone downtown at that time- and then, suddenly, some body falls out of the sky and lands right next to you? How disturbing would that be? Would you have nightmares? Would you feel some sort of irrational guilt over not looking up and stopping the kid before he jumped?
Is it sick, morbid and wrong that part of me wishes I were there? I've seen lots of dead bodies before, but only in a funeral home setting, not it a raw live-action setting.
Mostly I want to have been there because it would make this story a little more interesting. It could be first hand of how I saw a man die and how it affected me afterward.
Ultimately, I'm glad I wasn't there, it is certainly not something I need to see. My dad said that in real life it looks 100 times worse than it does in the movies. It would just be a neat affliction to have. Later on, when I'm a famous novelist, the critics would have said "yes, she is great. The affliction she endured after the kid died in front of her gave her enough edge to be great."
Though I wasn't there, I'm affected by this kid. The other city paper, our competition, did print his name. So I looked him up on Facebook. He's a good looking kid; has almost 600 Facebook friends; was quarterback of his high school team. His last status said "life... and grandpa JOE." I wonder what that meant.
I wonder what makes someone commit suicide, especially in a public place. I guess they want to be found. At least it wasn't at noon. What if he had landed on the janitor? "two for the price of one," is what my dad said.
Though I didn't know him, I've looked at his photo for so long that I feel like I do.
I'll miss him.
It was peaceful until I was awoken by an annoying loud noise, it sounded like a big truck was doing construction work outside my apartment. I woke and yelled "goddamn you! Have you no decency?? Let me sleep! Let me sleeeeeep!" No light was seeping through my blinds, which should have been a clue that it wasn't construction. I thought about checking my watch, but didn't want to know the time. I thought about looking out the window to see what it was, but figured it didn't matter and I didn't want to get out of covers. I'm glad I did nothing. If I had, I probably would've seen ambulances and firetrucks, and being curious, I would've gone to investigate. I would've seen something I could never take back. (My perverse curiosity got the best of me once, and I went on the site "rotten.com". It was horrible and I'll never get the image I saw out of my mind.).
This morning I strolled into my newspaper gig at around noon. When I got there Nancy, my boss, said "Jess, did you hear what happened last night?"
"Don't think so. What happened?"
"A kid killed himself outside your building." I was taken aback. "Say what?"
"Yeah, kid jumped off the parking garage."
I was floored. I went online to see our paper, and they had a blurb saying the kid was a 20 yr old sophomore.
"But that's not how we found out..." Nancy went on to tell me that a janitor who works the building had just gotten off work. He was walking to his car when he heard a man yell. He looked around, saw no one, and kept walking.
Then, right behind him, the kid hit the ground.
The janitor was scared, naturally, and took off running. Then when his senses came back to him, he stopped, turned around and called 911.
Now here's the kicker: this happened around 3:30 AM. Had I not switched my shift, there is a strong possibility that I would have been passing by when he offed himself.
Can you imagine just walking down the street at 3:30 AM- probably already spooked, since you're alone downtown at that time- and then, suddenly, some body falls out of the sky and lands right next to you? How disturbing would that be? Would you have nightmares? Would you feel some sort of irrational guilt over not looking up and stopping the kid before he jumped?
Is it sick, morbid and wrong that part of me wishes I were there? I've seen lots of dead bodies before, but only in a funeral home setting, not it a raw live-action setting.
Mostly I want to have been there because it would make this story a little more interesting. It could be first hand of how I saw a man die and how it affected me afterward.
Ultimately, I'm glad I wasn't there, it is certainly not something I need to see. My dad said that in real life it looks 100 times worse than it does in the movies. It would just be a neat affliction to have. Later on, when I'm a famous novelist, the critics would have said "yes, she is great. The affliction she endured after the kid died in front of her gave her enough edge to be great."
Though I wasn't there, I'm affected by this kid. The other city paper, our competition, did print his name. So I looked him up on Facebook. He's a good looking kid; has almost 600 Facebook friends; was quarterback of his high school team. His last status said "life... and grandpa JOE." I wonder what that meant.
I wonder what makes someone commit suicide, especially in a public place. I guess they want to be found. At least it wasn't at noon. What if he had landed on the janitor? "two for the price of one," is what my dad said.
Though I didn't know him, I've looked at his photo for so long that I feel like I do.
I'll miss him.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
It's an Inconvientent Annoyance, actually
I watched Al Gore's long, self-indulgent power point presentation today in one of my journalism classes. You might know it as "An Inconvenient Truth." Well yes, it was very inconvenient- I would rather have been buying Christmas ribbon than hearing about how the world as we know it is coming to an end.
I just don't buy the whole "Global Warming" thing. I paid attention to his charts and I learned about how his son got hit by a car and almost died (necessary to Global Warming? No), I even learned that poor little polar bears jump onto glaciers, only to have them break in half because they've been melting, resulting in the drowning of the cartoon polar bear.
Perhaps if someone had made a documentary about Al Gore's slide show, as opposed to him making it about himself, it would be more credible and I wouldn't snub it. At least it's not Micheal Moore.
I get everything he said about Co2 and all that jazz, but it'll never make me want to recycle or give up my SUV. He's just so pompous- why did he have to bring in footage from the 2000 election?
Oh well, it just wasn't for me.
A girl in class argued that it was racist because the cartoon people were white, that was funny. She also said it's not Global Warming we're going through, but Revelation from the Bible. She was serious. She argued with the teacher a long time- causing us to get out of class late- and even said "check this" to the teacher when she was making a point. It was entertaining. No one had her back.
Goodnight, I'm going to go hairspray a Styrofoam cup, then torch it all.
I just don't buy the whole "Global Warming" thing. I paid attention to his charts and I learned about how his son got hit by a car and almost died (necessary to Global Warming? No), I even learned that poor little polar bears jump onto glaciers, only to have them break in half because they've been melting, resulting in the drowning of the cartoon polar bear.
Perhaps if someone had made a documentary about Al Gore's slide show, as opposed to him making it about himself, it would be more credible and I wouldn't snub it. At least it's not Micheal Moore.
I get everything he said about Co2 and all that jazz, but it'll never make me want to recycle or give up my SUV. He's just so pompous- why did he have to bring in footage from the 2000 election?
Oh well, it just wasn't for me.
A girl in class argued that it was racist because the cartoon people were white, that was funny. She also said it's not Global Warming we're going through, but Revelation from the Bible. She was serious. She argued with the teacher a long time- causing us to get out of class late- and even said "check this" to the teacher when she was making a point. It was entertaining. No one had her back.
Goodnight, I'm going to go hairspray a Styrofoam cup, then torch it all.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Family time or party time?
I'm trying to figure out what to do for Christmas Break. Sadly I can't be everywhere at once. Part of me wants to stay here so I can make money at Subway. Most of me wants to go home.
The real problem is this: my mom wants to go to VA from Christmas to New Year's. I love my family in VA and I would like to see them. One such family, these two old folks who have a huge house and a checkered chicken named after me, are old and racist and amuse me to no end. They throw the term "jigaboo" around like it's nothing and it always causes me to laugh.
My sister, Tracy, doesn't really want to go. My mom said we don't have to if we don't want to, we can stay home while she goes, if we so choose.
It would be mildly cool having the house to myself for a week, but now that I've had my own place for four years, I think the novelty of being alone is gone. But the kicker is that Anthony wants to come celebrate New Year's in New Orleans. It could be fun, for sure. But on the other hand, my great group of friends and I have been doing the same tradition for the past bunch of New Year's Eve. Anthony could surely join us, but then I'd have to skip VA. Mom said we could come back before New Year's, but I don't want her to cut her trip short because of me. Dilemma, dilemma.
Did I mention that the old relatives are worth millions? They've already said they're leaving it all to this kid (my age) they've only met a couple of times. It's because he's a guy and has their family name, they're on my mom's mom's side of the family. Too bad they're not on her dad's, or I'd probably have their name, or at least my mom would.
Also, my friend Erin came up with an awesome remedy for my techno blasting neighbors. I could blast this right back at them:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHPegoquV5I
What a horrible sounding language.
The real problem is this: my mom wants to go to VA from Christmas to New Year's. I love my family in VA and I would like to see them. One such family, these two old folks who have a huge house and a checkered chicken named after me, are old and racist and amuse me to no end. They throw the term "jigaboo" around like it's nothing and it always causes me to laugh.
My sister, Tracy, doesn't really want to go. My mom said we don't have to if we don't want to, we can stay home while she goes, if we so choose.
It would be mildly cool having the house to myself for a week, but now that I've had my own place for four years, I think the novelty of being alone is gone. But the kicker is that Anthony wants to come celebrate New Year's in New Orleans. It could be fun, for sure. But on the other hand, my great group of friends and I have been doing the same tradition for the past bunch of New Year's Eve. Anthony could surely join us, but then I'd have to skip VA. Mom said we could come back before New Year's, but I don't want her to cut her trip short because of me. Dilemma, dilemma.
Did I mention that the old relatives are worth millions? They've already said they're leaving it all to this kid (my age) they've only met a couple of times. It's because he's a guy and has their family name, they're on my mom's mom's side of the family. Too bad they're not on her dad's, or I'd probably have their name, or at least my mom would.
Also, my friend Erin came up with an awesome remedy for my techno blasting neighbors. I could blast this right back at them:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHPegoquV5I
What a horrible sounding language.
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