(no subject)

Currently there is a sweat forming on me so thick and viscous, I'm relatively sure we could use it to power some new form of Hybrid vehicle.

My testicle swill is the new petrol.



I've been mostly quiet (but when I have posted I've been... grosser than normal, so enjoy those quiet times).  I wish I had a lot to share.  Well, at least nice things to share.  I'll give you what I got.

1)  Erin and I spent last Wednesday (our last day off together) picking up and watching a marathon of the Indiana Jones Trilogy (I won't consider it anything beyond a trilogy until I figure out if the new film is of matching quality, or if it's on par with that Prequel shit Lucas threw up at us).  The best part... it was Erin's idea, and she has very little recollection of seeing them before, so she was totally freaked by the bug bits in Temple of Doom.  Also, we watched them in Chronological Order, which rules.

2)  Friday before last, we did the Ninth episode of the Vanity Project... I mean the Podcast.  Or, as I like to call it, the first Podcast that was any good.  And don't get me wrong, I love the Pods, because I'm addicted to the sound of my friends and I being idiots together.  But this one had us being interviewed, so we not only stayed on topic, but we didn't even talk over each other.  Much.  For us.  Anyways, it was a great time, and I personally want to thank Beth for her spending the evening with us.

3)  Yesterday I got called up to Sac to have my yearly review.  Which I've been dreading because, frankly, I've not had a lot of work lately, and I kinda' worked myself up into thinking I was going to be fired, or at least asked to step out of my position.  This is something I've heard a lot of people talk about before...  I felt like I was on the verge of a (probably very minor) panic attack.  I mostly just felt like I wanted to break down and cry.  As it turns out, I was not fired.  I even got a (tiny) merit raise, of which I was totally surprised and told them was unnecessary (and meant it).  I'm not gonna' say I couldn't use more money.  Everyone could.  And this really isn't enough to change my life in any significant way money.  But it was totally nice to just be told that I don't, in truth, suck.  I have my challenges that I need to work at overcoming (like the sweat, unless it makes me rich), but I also got some big compliments on how I interact with my fellow employees and my clients, which is frankly the two things I pride myself on most, so it's nice to hear.  Overall, this just furthers a point that I made to Erin, which I'll get to next.

4)  So, yeah.  Erin and I talked at dinner the other night about how people most likely see us, and our bad points in particular.  She thinks, for instance, that she might come across as bossy.  I think... well, I think tons of bad things about myself, so why fan the flames here.  But she did mention to me that I tend to be too nice to people.  Like, maybe I'm overly nice, bend over backwards, am overly forgiving towards people either screwing up or their shortcomings or whatever.

Now, let's get things straight here... I know that, often, I mention the fact that I am, without a doubt, a total dickwad.  I am.  Because my mouth is a sewage plant with a horrifying leak.  I'm the walking, talking equivalent of one of those YouTube clips where they show only the cast saying the word "Fuck" over and over from some movie, like Reservoir Dogs or Jay and Silent Bob Strikes Back or Elmo In Grouchland.  I also make some of the most scathing, uncouth comments to people, sometimes the people I love the most, in such a random manner.  But, at heart, I think the reason I get away with it all is that I don't mean shit by it.  I say it for a laugh, at no one's expense, and I'll take my lumps, both by others and the self-inflicted, as good as I give them.  I would never intentional try to hurt someone randomly with my mouthing off.  So, yeah, I'm a dickwad, but I'm a dickwad with a heart of gold.

But here's also a big thing, and it's what I countered Erin with.  Yes, in a lot of ways, I'm incredibly nice/patient/too forgiving at times.  But I have lead, and continue to lead, a very good life.  Most of the pain I've experienced in my lifetime has been self-inflicted, or the product of self-disillusionment.  Meaning, I brought bad things on myself because of my stupidity or because I was being a jerk and I deserved it, or I made things out to be way worse than they actually were.

I had a great family.  Both my parents loved me and took care of me.  My dad and I had a falling out for a few years, sure, but we got back together because my step-mother is rad.  And so is my step-father.  And I was also raised by my grandmother, who I lived with through my entire teen years, and she was one of the best people I've ever known.  None of her other grandchildren got to spend as much time with her as me.  Heck, some of her kids probably didn't.  I never wanted for anything, not really.

Beyond that, I'm still lucky.  I've fallen into good jobs, then better jobs, then full-on careers without even trying most times.  And I've even had stuff handed to me on a silver platter that I, stupidly, walked away from.  I wanted to be a musician, I got pulled into a band of really fantastic people.  I wanted to write songs, and someone found me and put a lot of effort into developing them for me.  I wanted to be a writer, and someone offered to publish me.  And I left all these things, probably because I was scared, but also because they happened so easily that I didn't even appreciate them like I should have.

I've had at least two women who truly loved me, who put me above themselves all the time, and who would never hurt me in any way.  One of them, I totally screwed over.  I will never forgive myself for that.  The second, thankfully, I've managed to keep and plan to spend the rest of my life with.  But how many people don't find one of those people?  I piss one away, and manage to find another?

So, you know... yeah.  I'm a nice guy.  I try a little harder to smile at someone when they screw up, or when they don't try as hard as they should.  I forgive people their bad days.  I don't bat an eye when I do, occasionally, get the short straw in some situation.  Because I'm probably the luckiest son of a bitch alive, and I don't really think I deserve it.  I have two best friends who I KNOW deserve it a hell of a lot more than I do.  People with better hearts than me, who work harder, who have suffered more, and who constantly seem to get the stinky finger of life stuck in their pudding.  And yes, they bitch about the shit they go through, and rightly so, because it's unfair and they should have better.  But neither of them have ever looked at me and my dumb-ass luck and tried to bring me down, tried to wish my luck away so I would know what they're going through.  They haven't pointed at me and called me spoiled, or said that I've got it easy.  And they could.  They easily could say that, and it would be true.

My step-mother got laid off.  My father has had horrible medical problems the last couple years, and the house they bought that needed so much work done that they planned to do themselves, well, a lot of that had to get shelved while he's been recuperating and moving slower than expected.  They have three teenaged kids in their house, one of whom is about to start college.  They life in a town (hell, in a State) where there are no jobs right now, and houses are up for sale with no buyers.  And they have to fight to just make things work.  And I'm freaking out about my review, and I get a fucking raise for no good reason.

There is no way I could ever be Too Nice to anyone.  Franky, I should be doing a hell of a lot more.