I was reading more David DeAngelo (the dating guru for getting hot chicks or whatever), and I once again encountered the "cocky and funny" suggestion. Basically, the idea is that you act confident, arrogant, and "on top." However, you've got a humorous slant to your jibes, so you're perceived as witty and "a challenge" instead of just a jerk. It's crazy, that this man suggests that if you make fun of a woman in a slightly comical way, she'll be more attracted to you. And yet, the scariest part is, it probably works.
Go figure, eh?
Tuesday, August 9
Monday, August 8
Just when I thought there was no hope...
I find this little gem! Ah, sometimes the daily comics surprise you.
Friday, August 5
A Legend is Born
I took one of those stupid online quizzes, and I expected junk. Thus, I wrote random, stupid things (My city in Europe was Detroit). But! I did find this truly spectacular gem:
Your punk rock band name is The Confused Toaster Oven.
Let hilarity ensue!
In other news, I'm planning on going to Macbeth tomorrow. Anyone want me to pick them up/bring an extra lawn chair?
Your punk rock band name is The Confused Toaster Oven.
Let hilarity ensue!
In other news, I'm planning on going to Macbeth tomorrow. Anyone want me to pick them up/bring an extra lawn chair?
Tuesday, August 2
So?
I just watched "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", and I must say it was fantastic. I really urge everyone to see it. Unless you're on the verge of a breakup, and even then I'd strongly encourage it!
It really was thought-provoking. It's the whole "live for the moment" mentality that one would think I could try and follow sometime. We focus so often on the present, the negative, but we forget the happiness we've had and could very well have again. And if that happiness is short lived, we'll cherish it and find more. Just because we're all destined to die doesn't mean we should live as though we can find a way to live forever. Meaning, just because a relationship may fail, enjoy it while it lasts and, if it falls apart, cry a bit, get angry a moment, and then remember the good over the bad. There is no such thing as the "right guy or girl." You can't always look for better when you can love what you have.
And by "you", I mean "me." Or "I". Stupid grammar.
It really was thought-provoking. It's the whole "live for the moment" mentality that one would think I could try and follow sometime. We focus so often on the present, the negative, but we forget the happiness we've had and could very well have again. And if that happiness is short lived, we'll cherish it and find more. Just because we're all destined to die doesn't mean we should live as though we can find a way to live forever. Meaning, just because a relationship may fail, enjoy it while it lasts and, if it falls apart, cry a bit, get angry a moment, and then remember the good over the bad. There is no such thing as the "right guy or girl." You can't always look for better when you can love what you have.
And by "you", I mean "me." Or "I". Stupid grammar.
The Dogs of Market Square
Anyone interested in seeing Macbeth?
I'd be willing to pick anyone up and take anyone home who wanted to. I'd like to go Thursday night, but if anyone wants to go Saturday I'd be glad to wait.
I'd be willing to pick anyone up and take anyone home who wanted to. I'd like to go Thursday night, but if anyone wants to go Saturday I'd be glad to wait.
In Ages Past
I sort of neglected to update my adventures in Virginia, but there are a few memories I'd rather like to record that I thought of today.
While I was there, my aunt or uncle (I don't know which) told me one of the more tragic stories I'd heard. Apparently, a teenage girl had been killed in a car accident close to the place where one turned from the main road to my relative's neighborhood. What's worse is that a year later, her brother was killed in another car accident not a mile away from where his sister had died. I can't imagine how terrible it was for their parents. To have one child killed is bad enough. But then, after a year of grieving, when small steps are made towards adjustment and you try, desperately, to cling to the future, once again tragedy strikes, leaving you with next to nothing.
Such repeated devastation seems unfathomable to me. Admittedly, my views on death are quite fatalistic, but I can still try to empathize. I know there have been worse stories, but still...
I try to think of how I'd react, with my unorthodox views on death. I try to think how I'd feel if my mother or father or sister died. How I'd feel if one of my friends died. And each time, I just don't see me getting too upset. It scares me. I fear I'm too detached from my emotions, so intent on controlling them and maintaining a level of apathy putting me above emotional pain that I can't really love anyone. It's all lipservice.
Honestly, I think me wrecking my car 1.5 years ago was more tramatic and painful than my own mother's death would be today. Why? Because the car wreck was my fault. Not only do I seek detachment, but I've come to the point where the only person who can cause me emotional distress is myself. At least, that's who I blame. I don't hold a grudge or point a finger at anyone else for my state of mind except myself.
It's very confusing. Surely I can't just be a self-centered individualist with an affection for altruism. I mean, I love to make people laugh. But is that truly because I like the joy of others, or am I seeking to fight my own insecurity and prove myself to have some worth in the eyes of others? I want to help people, I want to be there for them and aid them in their endeavors if I'm able and agree that I really am needed. But isn't that just another ploy to make my life seem somehow worthwhile?
I'm so afraid of overstepping my boundaries. It's a primary reason I try and limit my physical contact, because I'm worried I'll be considered forward or make someone (observer or "victim") uncomfortable. But this isn't a concern for the other person so much as an issue of convenience for me. I don't have to risk confrontation.
Then again, this is quintessential cynicism. I could just as easily apply this line of thought to most other people. However, I do often wonder if I really "love" as others "love." One of the cons of being forced into one perspective, I suppose. A quandry I'll never be able to solve. Ah well.
Next Virginia entry: My Voyages to Church
While I was there, my aunt or uncle (I don't know which) told me one of the more tragic stories I'd heard. Apparently, a teenage girl had been killed in a car accident close to the place where one turned from the main road to my relative's neighborhood. What's worse is that a year later, her brother was killed in another car accident not a mile away from where his sister had died. I can't imagine how terrible it was for their parents. To have one child killed is bad enough. But then, after a year of grieving, when small steps are made towards adjustment and you try, desperately, to cling to the future, once again tragedy strikes, leaving you with next to nothing.
Such repeated devastation seems unfathomable to me. Admittedly, my views on death are quite fatalistic, but I can still try to empathize. I know there have been worse stories, but still...
I try to think of how I'd react, with my unorthodox views on death. I try to think how I'd feel if my mother or father or sister died. How I'd feel if one of my friends died. And each time, I just don't see me getting too upset. It scares me. I fear I'm too detached from my emotions, so intent on controlling them and maintaining a level of apathy putting me above emotional pain that I can't really love anyone. It's all lipservice.
Honestly, I think me wrecking my car 1.5 years ago was more tramatic and painful than my own mother's death would be today. Why? Because the car wreck was my fault. Not only do I seek detachment, but I've come to the point where the only person who can cause me emotional distress is myself. At least, that's who I blame. I don't hold a grudge or point a finger at anyone else for my state of mind except myself.
It's very confusing. Surely I can't just be a self-centered individualist with an affection for altruism. I mean, I love to make people laugh. But is that truly because I like the joy of others, or am I seeking to fight my own insecurity and prove myself to have some worth in the eyes of others? I want to help people, I want to be there for them and aid them in their endeavors if I'm able and agree that I really am needed. But isn't that just another ploy to make my life seem somehow worthwhile?
I'm so afraid of overstepping my boundaries. It's a primary reason I try and limit my physical contact, because I'm worried I'll be considered forward or make someone (observer or "victim") uncomfortable. But this isn't a concern for the other person so much as an issue of convenience for me. I don't have to risk confrontation.
Then again, this is quintessential cynicism. I could just as easily apply this line of thought to most other people. However, I do often wonder if I really "love" as others "love." One of the cons of being forced into one perspective, I suppose. A quandry I'll never be able to solve. Ah well.
Next Virginia entry: My Voyages to Church
Monday, August 1
Back for the Long Haul
Well, I'm back. And this time, I'm here to stay. In Knoxville, that is. Wednesday will be the official "three weeks til class starts" day. I'm still quintessentially ambivalent about the entire affair. I'm looking forward to getting out of the house, meeting new people, and taking challenging classes that will lead me further into my chosen career path. However, I'm also terrified of getting out of the house, meeting new people, and taking challenging classes that will lead me further into my chosen career path. You can see my problem.
Leaving home is a new level of freedom, and I won't have to feel like I'm going to be accosted at any moment to do something. Not that I am now, which makes it all the more peculiar that I feel this way. But, despite this counter-intuitive anxiety, this is still my "comfort zone." I'm safe, secure, and not threatened (for the most part) in my cold little corner. And when I leave I'll perpetually reside right in the middle of the action. Oy.
Then there's meeting new people. That's always a roll of the dice, now isn't it? I suppose I'm fairly amiable to everyone, and there's a moderate number with whom I can get along quite well. I really shouldn't be scared. I just have to act nice and not feel inferior.
And then, of course, I'm worried about my classes. Grades are pretty integral now that they're worth $12,300 a year. I also sort of look forward to them. At least, the ones other than Spanish. And Math. But the others look good!
Anyway, I meant to write more, but I got distracted. More... eventually!
Leaving home is a new level of freedom, and I won't have to feel like I'm going to be accosted at any moment to do something. Not that I am now, which makes it all the more peculiar that I feel this way. But, despite this counter-intuitive anxiety, this is still my "comfort zone." I'm safe, secure, and not threatened (for the most part) in my cold little corner. And when I leave I'll perpetually reside right in the middle of the action. Oy.
Then there's meeting new people. That's always a roll of the dice, now isn't it? I suppose I'm fairly amiable to everyone, and there's a moderate number with whom I can get along quite well. I really shouldn't be scared. I just have to act nice and not feel inferior.
And then, of course, I'm worried about my classes. Grades are pretty integral now that they're worth $12,300 a year. I also sort of look forward to them. At least, the ones other than Spanish. And Math. But the others look good!
Anyway, I meant to write more, but I got distracted. More... eventually!