I tried to post on Blogger a couple days ago, but once I went to publish it, it decided to not load properly, so the entry was lost in the annals of the Internet. That's okay, though, I just rambled like usual and am, in a sense, glad it didn't post. Even though nobody reads this journal, I'm still worried that someone might come across it.
Summer's gone. I start the fall semester on Monday and I am neither prepared, nor excited, for it. I'm barely finishing my summer class on time (Friday); then I have to register for one more fall class, drop another one that is merely serving as a "placeholder," and finally buy all $300+ worth of my books.
If all goes according to plan, which it probably won't, I can graduate in three semesters. That's based on the minimum number of credits per semester (12), as well as the minimum number of credits to graduate (124). I'm gonna skin the cat on that, I sure hope, but I need to determine whether or not I can get all required courses taken within three semesters.
Three semesters is such a short amount of time. I truly have no idea what I want to do with my life. I want to get into the entertainment industry, on some level...but of course, the genius I am, this is the only thing I want to do and 1) it's the most difficult (quite possibly) career to get into and 2) I seemingly have no knowledge of anything.
And in three semesters, I have to figure out what I'm going to do - and then do it - or else I'm going to be forever stuck. I dread it. Alot of this I should've thought about, and figured out, after I graduated from high school. I don't have a car of my own. I don't have a job, thus no steady income. And I have no place to live post-college. I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for money, just to pay for books this semester, and that means I'm probably screwed next semester. Not totally screwed, of course, because I'm spoiled and I'll easily get money from my mom and grandparents, but I cannot bank on them for everything. Especially at this point.
I've been considering more school, after college, which I hate myself for...I told myself I'd be
DONE with all schooling after college and now here I am reconsidering. There's a school in Minneapolis that is strictly about the music/recording industry, that looks like it'd be a nice place to go, but it's something I really have to think about and decide if it's worth it.
I tried shooting the idea past Frankie the other day, because I think it's something he should look into as well. We both love making our shitty-ass music, so my theory is...why stop there? Why not go learn how to make music, the right way, and gain that knowledge?
WE, ourselves, may never become recording artists but we'd have the knowledge to get into the business and we'd be able to make music, as producers, or SOMETHING. But it's something we enjoy, and it's something we could DO, if we just focused and gained the knowledge necessary.
But is it really worth it? Maybe. Maybe not. Again, it's something I have to think long and hard about. And, as always, thinking about my future is the last thing on my mind.
As far as the summer...I feel as though it has been lost, much like last summer. Last summer, it was at my own hand...at my own stupidity. And I still can't get over that. This summer, it's because life is finally up-to-speed around me, and I'm falling behind. Jeff's married and gone, Frankie's working and getting things with Wendy straight, Tim and Holli are living their lives, and I've been taking this class and doing this internship.
It hasn't felt like
summer at all.
Everything I have ever enjoyed is falling victim to the priorities of life. I should have been spending the summer with Jeff and Jen, Frankie and Wendy, Tim and Holli. Taking road trips, having fun, meeting girls - something. I've done none of that.
My summer has been spent dealing with the Frankie/Wendy drama, doing homework, working (for no money), and being an Internet Thug. The joys of life, right?
On the (potential) bright side, it seems as if Jeff may be coming home. I'm hoping and praying and crossing my fingers, etc., that it works out. I don't want to get my hopes up too much, because we know what happens then, but God damnit...if it happens, I'll be overjoyed, as will everyone else (Jeff included, I think).
His shoulder is beyond fucked up and may need surgery. If he needs surgery, the Navy pays for it, and then they'll most likely medically discharge him, and that means he and Jen can come home. They apparently miss it here; both their families, plus it never rains out there (California), and it gets ungodly hot, etc.
It seems as if Jeff is now considering police work, like his dad used to do, and hopefully that works out for him. I really want to see him succeed at whatever he does, but if the police thing goes through, he may end up moving to Georgia. Who knows if he goes that route, who knows if he ends up down there, who knows. I just
NEED him to carry his ass home. Soon.
Okay, so, I worked with a 14 year old girl on Sunday, who plastered me with like 8 temporary tattoos. Then, when I come home and tell the story (to various people), they say she was flirting and that pisses me off, because I didn't wanna become the object of a 14 year old girl's affection.
Then on Tuesday, I worked with this dude who was like "So I hear you and (the girl) didn't get along so well..." Now, on the one hand, I was happy, because that I meant I was right - no flirting. But on the other hand, why does that also make me feel sad, too? I mean, it's definitely not like I want some almost-pre-teen to like me...I'm not a fucking pedophile. But, it's like, it almost breathed new life into me and made me feel like...hey, maybe I
DO have some good qualities as "a guy."
Ya know what I'm saying?
I've been dumped time after time, and it's been two years since I've actually had a girlfriend (last summer will
never count), and nobody ever seems to show an interest. So, I guess, the thought that somebody could have been showing an interest (even a 14 year old, where the interest
WOULD NOT be reciprocated) was...well...interesting.
The fact that it wasn't, while it's a relief, is just another version of me being dumped.
In addition to that, I have a HUGE e-crush on this girl, which bugs the Hell out of me. This has happened before (see: last summer) and it was a waste of my time, so I'm trying not to let feelings get too involved. And yet, I can't control the feelings, and it makes me go "Grr..."
I feel like such a geek. Seriously, it doesn't usually bother me; I empower my dorkiness/geekiness, but that's because I surround myself with other people who are dorky, or don't see any need in making themselves appear better than others. They're fine with acting retarded, or hearing offensive jokes, or sitting at a computer for hours on end.
But I feel even moreso like a geek lately. I literally have no life anymore...as if I ever did. And now I've wasted an hour that could've been spent on my final project, which is due Friday. Oh joy.
Fin'.
