A Single Man, Countless Pains III

You know what I never understood? Rock stars who have great bodies. That was like a complete mystery to me. Members of Avenged Seven Fold, All American Rejects, Breaking Benjamin, Against Me!, and all the others. How do they stay so fit and jacked? Rock stars and work out routines do not go hand in hand, at least not in my head. Rock stars have terrible sleeping habits, even worse dietary habits, and probably the worst drinking habits in the world. And that's not even figuring in the illegal substances. But somehow they end up with Abercrombie and Fitch bodies that are covered with tattoos, scars and bite marks. But still, the muscle definition and sex appeal is totally there. I feel like they don't work as hard as us non-rocker mortals, but still get sex god bodies. Not fair. Even if you like the music, you still get slightly pissed off knowing they get fame, money and a flat stomach, all with what seems like no effort at all. Except my boyfriend Tyson Ritter, he deserves everything and anything he wants. But I bring this up, because it ties into my dating history. I have messed up points of view on the type of body I want my boyfriend, date, significant other, boy I'm sleeping with to have. I flip flop back and forth between wanting a guy who has a body like a model from Elite Model Management and someone who has the body of Paul Rudd. Both are desirable and sexy, but they are mutually exclusive of each other. The first is risky, untrustworthy, unreliable and dangerous. My mantra over the years has slowly become "never trust sexy", and for good reason. A guy deemed "sexy" usually knows it, and has the personality of a slug getting salted. Not to mention they almost always never have to work for their good looks, or only have to work one tenth of how hard the rest of us work. So that's why my dating mantra is what it is. But when you go with a Paul Rudd body type, they also have problems. Insecurities over their own body, strange drinking and eating habits, and they tend to question why I am with them. Due to the fact that I work out and take being fit seriously. So there is no winning. Kind of. What I need is a boy who works just as hard as I do. That way it all balances out. And it could be either an Abercrombie model or a Paul Rudd wannabe, I can get both. Not to brag, but I can get whatever I want really. The problem is, I usually want the wrong thing. But nowadays I have a clearer image of what I want. So I hope it appears soon. But I have decided not to commit to anything, unless it's AMAZING, in the next five months because I want to get the hell out of this city. As soon as I am certified, I'm getting the fuck out of Dodge. Maybe even as soon as December first. Who knows. I'm winging it. What I do know, is my past proves to me time and time again, almost no one I've encountered works as hard I do/did to make it work. I work hard to play my part. To be what the situation calls for, what it needs. I do what I can to be helpful and appreciated. To make sure everything goes easily, without flaw or problem. To make everyone calm and happy and content. I want to move on to my future so that I can remedy this sort of thing. It can be a strain. And sometimes all that working makes me want a break, a vacation, a dessert. So, part three of my July confessional.

You did handstands on my floor
Got impressed before we got through the door
Never knew what you would mean to me
Now you’re gone, done and I clearly see….

You were just Blueberry Pie
Something nice that caught my eye
Delicious, delightful the word “yum” suffices
You were another one of my vices
Always good to end the night with dessert
Never trust your heart because I’m just a flirt
You were just Blueberry-

Who could say no to arms like that
No one passes up a stomach so flat
Why say no when you could scream yes
You weren’t the worst but you weren’t my best…

You were simply Blueberry Pie
A tasty little natural high

"It takes time in the morning for me to become George, time to adjust to what is expected of George and how he is to behave. By the time I have dressed and put the final layer of polish on the now slightly stiff but quite perfect George I know fully what part I'm suppose to play." -George Falconer

Money (Men) $igns

I hesitated using the dollar sign because of what Ke$ha has done to it. She doesn't even sing songs about making money. Or working. Or being productive at life at all. So why does she get to steal the dollar sign? I should incorporate it into my name. I'm working and hustling all the friggin time. I'm barely holding it down, maybe the trick is to put the money into your name; if you build it, they will come. I don't have an "s" in either my first or last name. But I could do something like, €rant. That kinda looks like my name still. Sort of. Whatever, I'm not here to start spelling my name a different a way. The point is, I'm hung up on dollar signs these days. And the fact that the amount of money that I'm being asked to put out, keeps getting larger as the amount of money I'm putting in remains the same. I know to some this is a dilemma that they have been dealing with for years and decades, but it's a new found worry wort to me. Thank goodness all my acne is fictional and worry induced, because if worry wort's showed up like red dots I would be looking like a chicken pox epidemic. I have been getting almost forty hours a week at the job I have, but I am trying to secure some other kind of income too. That way I'll have more spare change. I've already sat myself down and had a long business meeting, with myself, to explain to myself that there will be no money this summer. Or rather, that all my money is not really at home with me. I'm more like a waiting room for it. It gets to sit and read year old magazines before being called to move on to bigger and nicer things. Bigger things like Ke$ha's cracked out, tangled mess of a hair do. I've tightened my budget so much I've even cut out men. Not that I had a packed social calendar, but I'm not even allowing the thought of fitting a man into my schedule, or my wallet, these days. I have literally begun to see men as dollar signs. Just a bunch of $$$'s walking around my mall or running in my neighborhood. And I keep telling myself, I can't cash that. I don't have the bank account, or the heart, to cash a check like that. Men aren't free and money doesn't grow on trees. Hard times in the economy mean hard times in my love life. Which means some hard things will have to be dealt with in new methods. Which is alright because it's free to work out in my basement. So if I'm stranded at home on FlatBroke Island, at least I'll get toned and jacked. Plus choosing my food carefully, and frugally, will also help with getting into even better shape. So I might be locking up my wallet, but I could be cashing in on a great new exercise program. And if preventing debt means cutting costs and men, then it'll teach me to appreciate what I have hit the lottery in. I'm wealthy in friendships and family, and rich in wit and creativity. I'm no number cruncher, but Wall Street isn't the only thing that dictates whether or not my stock rises. I'm going to try hard to make frugal look fantastic, and penniless into marvelous. Wi$h me luck!

“So you think that money is the root of all evil. Have you ever asked what is the root of all money?” -Ayn Rand

I'll Have A Grande Motivation

I wish we could order emotions like Starbucks beverages. It would make certain things far easier. It would also make dealing with our emotions much easier. A lot of the time I have no idea what the hell is making me act the way I do, when ninety percent of the time I just want to be in bed with Caleb. Caleb is my Teddy Bear, for those of you who have forgotten, don't get the wrong impression. Some things are obvious, such as going to work. I go to work to make money. It's that simple. I need money to survive and provide myself with shelter and food. Otherwise, I don't think I would want to be nocturnal. Especially when the city rolls up the sidewalks at two thirty AM. There wouldn't even be anything to do from then till about eight or nine am. Even then the only thing that would be open is the gym, or the grocers. Oh, did I mention I forgot I was training to be a PT? Yeh, that is the full extent of my sleeplessness and disorientation. When I am not working, I have two main concerns: how long can I sleep for and do I have clean clothes to put on when I awake. That is all that I can muster to focus on. So during the weekdays I have very little capacity for minor details or simple errands, like remembering that I am in training. So, unfortunately, I have yet again forgotten to obtain the textbook. I am slightly concerned, but not really. So far all we have done in class is workout, take fitness tests, talk with fellow classmates and get lectured to. During the lecture the instructor tells us word for word what will be on the quizzes, he pretty much just reads from the pages, so it would be convenient to be able to have a book open to follow along, but I don't see it has necessary. Watch, with my luck tomorrow we'll be wanting us to read from the book out loud or some shit like that. It's just a weird concept to me all together really. This training, and class situation. The instructor is just that, an instructor who instructs. There hasn't been any teaching yet. It's all things I could have discovered had I google searched the phrase "personal trainer". I think I'm paying for the school's title and academic recognition. Plus I think the class comes with a free gym membership, for the gym we train at, but I'm not certain. Not that I would have time nor energy to make good use of it. I barely muster up the motivation to work out at my house. I use to do it to relieve stress, but now I don't have time for it really. I am much more stressed then previously, but I lack free time. Well I guess that's not true, I could make the time, but I'd rather sleep so I don't crash Danny into the highway median. Danny is the name of my car, for Sir Daniel Craig. I like to name things. Anyways. I motivate myself to work out because I fear my eating habits will destroy me, I don't have set times of the day when I can eat. I don't eat whole meals at once. And I certainly don't eat properly. And there is that slight problem with the ridiculous amounts of coffee I consume. So lately I have been working out to simply make my blood pump, encourage my body to urinate, and build stronger muscles. Bl odd pumping makes me sleep more soundly. Urinating gets the coffee out. And muscles help me for the day I breakdown and begin throwing cars into sky scrappers...I mean muscles help me lift things at work. Yes...for work. Don't make me Hulk out on you! I can't believe I forgot I was in training. That's so messed up. From Tuesday to yesterday I just didn't think about it at all. Which is bad, I know. But this week at work was also bad. In fact it was worse. It was worse then the forgetting. Oh, and, the government is an asshole. The more money I make the more they sneak out of my paycheck. The whole time I was factoring out the next couple months and budgeting my life away, I was not planning on having so much money ripped from my hands. What the hell is that for again?! I know it's my fault for not paying attention in school(I was more focused on living through another day), but having money removed from my paycheck makes me angry. And then we get tax refunds....so we get it all/mostly back? Does this seem strange to anyone? And since I know you're asking, no, I have not done taxes yet. But I will, soon. I don't want to mess with the IRS. Or anything like that. So there, avoiding jail time, the motivation for doing taxes. So I have motivation for work and taxes. If you add "death" onto that list, it'll make the three things that are guaranteed to all of us. Really, a person could maintain a third shift lifestyle and simply go through life motivated to merely work and pay taxes, I think death motivates us to do everything else we do. In a backwards kind of way. Since we all know death is going to happen, we motivate ourselves to make our lives as good as we are able to. This is where the variations come into effect. Some want fame and medals, some want artistic recognition, some want families and 401Ks. Some want to dance on you at the club for an hour and then not follow through. Which makes you a bastard!....I don't want to talk about it. Let's just say Friday night used only one barrel of a double barrelled shot gun. Bastard. Anyways. So since death is heading towards like Brooke Sheilds to a spokesperson career fair, we self motivate to make life worth living. But really Brooke, how many commercials do you want airing at once? Crest, Latisse, some other womanly shit. What are you, trying to break a record? Get a movie hon. Follow Demi Moore, pick up what she drops from her flawless dinner table. Demi is so lovely, and a badass. And probably a great lay. How else is she going to keep Mr. Kutcher under lock and latch? Do you like that? I just sorta invented it, "lock and latch", it works. Spread it around. Spread it like peanut butter. Peanut butter! A great motivator for dogs to do what we tell them to do. Don't make it dirty. I'm talking about calming down and stopping to incessantly bark out the window at a dog that is six houses down on the left which coudln't even be seen unless standing in the front yard anyways so it makes you wonder how the hell the dog is seeing the other dog in the first place unless of course dogs have some sort of projecto vision that can be turned both left and right....Are you worried for my sanity? I am, you should be. I think Caleb helps keep me sane. My having a "Caleb" is what therapists call "emotional projection", which means I have feelings, concerns, emotions, etc that need to be let out and or discussed but I lack the appropriate person, outlet, facility, etc to release them. See! Who says therapy is pointless? The only reason I'm such a good listener and advice giver is because I was in therapy, I didn't go to get fixed, I went to learn and steal tricks. I am a Bristow. And that previous line rhymes, I smell a bumper sticker. Or a graphic t-shirt. But I don't really wear those. Except when at the gym, or I'm attempting to be outgoing at the club. Oh, the club. What motivates anyone to go to the club? Sex, stress release, cheap drinks, cheap thrills, ego boost. It's all kinda the same. In different ways. Madonna talks about it in a song. She gets it. See Brooke, another fifty something to look up to. Stop with the commercials. Please, or we will be forced to take action. It may just be the channels I'm watching. I tend to gravitate towards Lifetime and Hallmark, they play Golden Girl reruns. That show is like heroin to me, soothing and I love taking in all the soft, pastel colors. And it makes me laugh. Alright, this one has gone on far too long. No one probably even reached this point. If you did, I love you. And I will buy you a puppy. Or rather, adopt you a puppy. I don't promote purchasing from stores or breeders, all dogs should be rescued. And all cats love me, it's just a random fact. Kitties like me, and I don't even try. Maybe that's why they like me, I should try that approach on men. If you're still reading I resend my offer of buying you a puppy. Sorry. I'm a broke twentysomething. Motivate yourself to adopt your own damn puppy.

"So I went into a bar. Looking for sympathy. A little company. I tried to find a friend. It’s more easily said. It’s always been the same. This type of modern life. Is not for me" -M. Ciccone

On Thin Ice

So, obviously, something terrible happened at work today. Some woman was crazy. Some man got angry for no reason. Some child wanted to cry until it got it's way. My break was delayed. My lunch was cut short. The usual. But I don't want to write about that. Here are the three things that happened that are as close to "good" as it gets at my job these days:

First Event- woman tried to sell me her three (ridiculously cute and awesome) little boys today because they were being too enthusiastic about Christmas.
My Reaction- at least you have kids who are energetic and imaginative and adorable. at least you have kids in general.

Second Event- lady complaining that her boyfriend is too hard to shop for
My Reaction- (which should be assumed) at least you have a boy to shop for.

Third Event- i had a really good cheeseburger at lunch
My Reaction- it was really good

Yes, one of the highlights of the day was a good sammich...the word you are looking for is "whoa". And now the housemates want to go ice skating downtown, but I don't think my little, single heart could bare something so blatantly designed for happy couples. It's already on thin ice, has been this whole friggin season, I think that would make me slip and crack up. So...I'm not to sure what I'll be doing tonight.

Ponder Wonder Blunder

It Would Be So Nice....

Holiday!

It would be so nice.

I don't like the Holidays anymore. It just means that people act dumber, become meaner, and behave even worse then usual. I know I'm at an unfair advantage due to the fact that I'm involved in the retail world, but I think it might be a universal thing. Today was uniquely bad at work because the whole day was a one long sneak attack. I went in this afternoon, on my day off(mistake number one), to change my availability...and somehow I left ten hours later. They cornered me in the back room and told me they needed help, so I said yes(mistake number two). But it wasn't all bad because one of my housemates was also working and I was on register the whole time and I had Panera on my dinner break. So it was delicious. And I found out that the new hires fear me, as they rightly should, because I know everything and am considered management. I yelled at two of them today for not doing anything but standing around, and later that night while I was eating my dinner they came and apologized to me. Is it wrong if I found this almost as delicious as my sammich? Nah, I don't think so. The only downside was that I didn't get to accomplish all the errands I was supposed to get down today, but I made money. So it all balances out. I just really wish sometime soon I have time to actually enjoy this stupid season. I'm getting tired of spinning out on the road, slipping on black ice, putting of with morons on the daily and having dry hands because it's so cold. I need a holiday. A real holiday, preferably one that isn't scheduled around common, nationally recognized holidays. I want my own holiday. And I want a beach. And I want my own beach. And if this guy was there, well, I'd have no complaints.

It would be so nice.

Talk The Talk

So this is what's happened since Friday:

Friday-
-go to a huge wine tasting expo with 1 out of 6 housemates and his girlfriend
-get hella tipsy at said expo
-walk to Ritz Coney to grab a hotdog
-make fun of people who wait in line to get into bars
-thank God for having friends who have VIP status
-get picked up by another housemate who drives all three of us back to the house
-realize that it is only ten thirty pm
-put cash in pocket and walk down to my bar for some Bud Lights
-get to bar and behave by not talking to anyone but the doorman and the bartender
-laugh on the inside because both men know my name
-stare at music videos on the screen and avoid eye contact
-walk back to the house and crawl in bed
Saturday-
-get up and go to work
-dress like a Ralph Lauren ad to make up for still being a little tipsy
-look good at work and have a successful day
-go directly to bar from work, do not collect two hundred dollars
-encourage housemate on first night of bar tending, order drinks to support
-thank God for giving me a housemate who is now a bar tender
-get back to house, get angry at iTunes for no longer working on my laptop
-go to bed
Sunday-
-get to work looking like a before picture
-get through open to close at work
-get through two hour long mandatory meeting after work
-ask God why the holidays suck ass nowadays
-realize that I will be working a twelve hour shift on black friday
-calm myself down by knowing that Desperate Housewives is being TiVoed
-get back to house and cook amazing blue cheese pasta with red gravy
-go to bed early because work starts at seven AM
-have exciting dream where God says to be a personal trainer
-and that embracing heritage and ancestor culture is much needed
Monday-
-go to work
-get through work looking freshly shaven and care free
-start to make mental work out plan for myself to get back to the body I had
-go to class
-design tattoo for me while sitting in class
-stop at grocers on way home and get pizza ingredients
-spend next two hours preparing and chopping and baking two delicious pizzas
-listen to Rosemary Clooney, Dean Martin, Lady Gaga, and Madonna in the kitchen
-thank God that all four people were/are alive and that they sing to me
-burn my arm on the oven, but don't care, this pizza is worth it
-enjoy said pizza with Amaretto and Schweppes
-thank God for living and for baking
-sit in the kitchen nook and type this while feeding housemates
-tonight, light a candle and thank God for my friggin life

You Have To Signal First

I don't even remember this weekend. It's just a blur of money making, passing out on top of my bed, throwing myself in the shower, and then going to make some more money. Somewhere in there I figured out I should quit job two before I got fired from it. My blinkers stopped working on my car. I ran out of shampoo. And I got a tummy ache. From the poor choices in food or from the lack of food in general. I felt awful driving around without my blinkers working, because I felt like a huge hypocrite. I'm the driver that yells at cars when they cut into my lane with out signaling first. There is no need to surprise me like that when you could have clearly signaled first and let me know what was happening. I like that approach in life too. I don't care for bomb dropping and surprise omissions, but sometimes it's unavoidable. Like quitting a job. Ninety percent of the time though you can give a reasonable heads up before you let it all hang out. It might be the childish thing to do, or make you lose upper hand points, but it makes the results easier to handle. The rules of the road can be applied to life as well. Signal before you make a move. Don't go too fast. If you have road rage pull over and sort things out before you hurt yourself or someone around you. Stay on your side of the road. Keep your eyes on the horizon. Try not to worry about other drivers, you don't have control over them. And follow the advice of Bette Davis, buckle up. All this talk about motors reminds of my truck desire. It's been put on hold for the time being. But the massage therapist thing has a full tank of gas and is ready to ride. I think now that I'm only going to have job one to deal with, I will be a much happier driver. No more road rage, excess exhaust, crossed wires. I think my engine will be running much better from now on. I've still got a couple miles of country road and some tight curves to pass in the next couple months, but I'm close to getting on the highway of my future. And I have a working blinker so it will be easy to merge.

-Working Full Time, Living Part Time

The older I get the more I value free time. Which is never really free time; it is more of a conscious decision on my part to push back obligations, delay deadlines and free up my schedule to do exactly what I want to do. Even when this does happen my brain, on some level, is creating a timetable of due dates for all the work I will have to make up and all the work that will inevitably be piled on top. So even when I am working to have a good time, I am still working to plan out all the work that needs to get done and factoring in all the work that is going to be given, all while trying to remember that all work and no play makes life not worth living. What exactly are we working for again? Besides working for the weekend, it is sometimes difficult to remember why exactly we keep putting our noses to the grindstone. Is anyone else worried they are running out of nose? We have to work in our classes to make sure we get decent grades; part of having decent grades is doing homework. We have to work to make sure we somehow find enough time to not only go to classes but study for them and work for them outside of class. It sometimes feels like we are working just to achieve more work. Not to mention all the obligations we have outside of schoolwork. Trying to find time to workout and stay fit; working to look good. Making sure we get enough hours at work so we can pay bills and bar tabs; working for the man. Trying to work in enough time to see, maintain and catch up with friends; working for community. Finding time to get all the needed housework done; working for domesticity. We also have to work towards our goals, dreams and ambitions; working for sanity. Not to mention working on our romantic lives, social lives and daily lives; working for kisses and social networking. It takes more then working nine to five just to try and make a living.
I am not opposed to hard work, but I am beginning to think we are working too hard on too many things. We work through college so that we can find and get into jobs we won’t mind working for the rest of our lives. Upon entering our jobs we are given work to do, and upon completion of said work we will be rewarded with more work. While in our occupational field we will have to work to stay friendly with our bosses, work to be polite to our colleagues, work to make sure the client is pleased and work to make sure we can keep on working. Just because we are getting paid for forty hours a week doesn’t mean we aren’t working more hours then that. Something tells me that OSHA wouldn’t have much to say if I called to complain about these types of working conditions. Pretty much we are working full time right now, so that we can work full time forever.
The seven dwarfs might have been able to whistle during it to make themselves feel better but I’m going to need more then a few repetitive notes to get me through my day. Work will always be there, in all kinds of shapes and forms and different kinds of stress, but when we have to work to remember how to have fun it has gone too far. Plus we aren’t just working for ourselves; this is not one long solo mission. Often times we are working for our friends our families and our lovers. We have to work to make sure they know who we are, what we are about and what we a working towards. Doing so much work changes a person quickly and often, so unless we want to end up working by ourselves we have to work to stay in touch. There is no way any of us would be able to work through our mountains of work and obligations unless we have people we love standing beside us. So sure, all work and no play can make life not worth living; but making sure you have people to work beside you and play with is work worth doing.

-Too Tired to Get the American Dream

When was the last time you were in a bakery? Or a chocolate shop? Standing in front of the selection, looking at everything there is to choose from, trying to decide what looks best. Walking back and forth past the glass, imagining what will be most delicious. It can almost be overpowering, attempting to figure out the best choice. Sometimes it is hard to pick just one or two, and you begin to think you could take it all; you begin to want it all. You could always just take one of everything, eat until you are overly content and then regret it all an hour later. Then comes the recovery work out, an empty attempt to undo the damages. So all you end up with is extra calories and exhaustion from a post workout frenzy. What seemed like such a nice thing just ends up costing you and leaving you more tired then when you started out. If trying to decide upon a simple cookie or coconut crème truffle can possibly lead to this kind of trouble just think what the bigger issues could induce. Trying to decide upon whether to go for the extra hours at work, more minutes to study for class, more free time to connect with friends or more efforts committed to trying to build a relationship; sure we can have it all, but is having it all too much to handle?
Although the American Dream has been changed, modified and redone more times then Meg Ryan’s face it still does exist, and for the most part it still means having it all. These days it is just a little more personal and individual, but most people still have some semblance of a life they are trying to achieve. Chances are it is a life filled with occupations, obligations and lots of occurrences. At this point in time we are supposed to be focusing on academics. Pursuing a higher education is almost mandated upon us, it is built into our age appropriate American life so that it can lead us to the coveted American Dream. Last I checked though, college can be one long exhausting mess. With deadlines, due dates and daily journals it is far too easy to get lost inside of it. Then there are those of us who also have to feed our bank accounts, which is another thing that takes our time and can consume us. Even if the economy weren’t on the edge of destruction, it is still far too easy to get tired out from bringing in money. So with those two exhaustions taking up our time it is hard to fit in any other occurrences, either planned or unplanned. Sure it is important to prepare for the future and work towards our dreams, but are we going to be able to stay awake if we ever reach them? Sometimes it seems like we will be too tried out from working for it to ever have the chance to enjoy it.
Who said having it all was the most important thing anyways? I think going for a few things and having them be perfect is far better then going for everything and having it all be mundane. Maybe they were right when they said “less is more”, maybe the fewer things you have to worry about the better. I have found that getting everything you wanted, or coming close to that, can be more tiring then being without it. Inevitably there will be that moment, amidst the euphoria of living out your American Dream, where you begin to think what a nightmare it would be to lose it all and how tired you are from holding it together. Sure I have dreams, but I want to be awake to enjoy them, so I try to keep it basic. Who wants it all, when all you really need it love. That is the ultimate dream, isn’t it? Love is what gives you energy, makes you get out of bed in the morning. Love is what keeps you awake when all you want to do is pass out. So yes, we can have it all, but I can’t even keep a plant alive so having it all is not that appealing. I am aiming to have love, that one thing that makes you feel like you have it all.