The Language of McDonald's

8:12 PM Edit This 0 Comments »
The most frustrating thing a person can do is go job hunting. Not because working sucks, which the working- and most of the middle-class probably already know, but because it's irritating, tedious, and the biggest charade on the planet. You may be completely qualified for a job, and not get it. Not only that but when you interview and follow-up and all the other steps that make up this dance, it still doesn't guarentee anything. Add to the fact that I live 30 miles from the city I'm looking for work in, and you have one hell of a headache.

I suffer from what is called "being a white person." To those that don't have my disease. it may sound like nothing.. Perhaps I'm over-reacting, but I don't think so. See I recently moved to a city whose general popullation is hispanic. Problem, I don't speak very much spanish. I can say hello, goodbye, you suck, the usual stuff, but I can't say "may I take your order?" Not that I'm looking for fast food job, but you probably get the jist.

Now, do you think I let my skin disabilty keep me down??!?!??!?!? NO!!!

I have applied for over a hundred jobs, been through a dozen interviews that ended on a good note. Am I employed??? NO. I have a decent amount of experience, and I keep my weirder side on paper, so I have no idea what else to do here.

I guess the best course of action is to just keep on keepin' on.

Best Friends at Midnight (errr... 2 am Central)

1:27 AM Edit This 0 Comments »
I need a good ramble... Too much on my mind :\

I was very fresh out of high school, which of course I didn't graduate from, and he was sexy, mysterious, Italian, and the opposite of everything I am. I guess the way to explain him would be to say that he was everything I wished I could be. He was mean where I was sweet, he was loud where I was shy, he was lawless where I was careful, he was crazy where I thought I was sane.

We met in a random way... On Myspace of all places. He tells me we once crossed paths on a cheap cell phone chat room that was overrun by freaks and perverts. The fact that we rediscovered each other was a product of me telling him he was incredibly fun to look at, and in no time, I was hooked.

He explains our connection as us having the best conversations, without having to look for important things to say. He loved the things I loved, and fought the things I put up with. He's the reason I first smoked pot. He was a broken soul, self medicated for years, but somehow he had retained a beauty that radiated like nothing I had ever imagined. He taught me to fight for myself, to unwind when appropriate, and eventually to be my own best friend because when it comes down to it, you really only have yourself.

I was and am in love with this man, and at one point in time, I was prepared to move away from everything I have and don't have just to be near him. Whether sexually, romantically, or anonymously. I just wanted to feel the passion. I wanted to touch this person of my dreams in a way that would be completely unintentionally intimate. My soul connected to him in a way that my heart could never compare to, and try as I may to unravel the connection, I fear that I am eternally bound.

And the horrible part. I'm married to someone else.

I sacrificed my friend when my high school sweet heart came back. I force my happiness because he's a decent man and because it's not his fault alone I fell for my past.

I just miss my friend.
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