Rationalization 10: The More Information, the Greater the Headache.
So I may have to move some of my greatest blogs over to maineventofthedead.com. In theory, this should provide enough content to prevent potential employers from finding this installment of "Schrodinger's Cat." Human Resources should get fed up with my movie reviews and the observations of selling a man $2.00 of gasoline only to see him, impatient to see me fail at rescuing him, only use a $1.55 of it to torch himself with. Now I'm pondering about why he didn't choose 93 octane, whether that would have gotten the ordeal over with quicker, and why TriStar wouldn't give me a pity fuck up when they canned me.
The downside with the theory is not knowing what HR looking for when they turn to personal (as in, not in a newspaper, prison records, or scholarly journal) web space for information about a potential employee. Is it because they do not trust the interview process or are they so fascinated about the person they need to find out everything about them?
Rationalization 11: Human Resources Is for Stalkers.
Which makes me wonder how blind was the date my parents went on since Dad was in Labor Relations.
This has also left me having a Han Solo Moment, "Sometimes I even amaze myself." Going from a labor rant to my "When Doves Cry" rationalization. Damn, ESPN's coverage of Charlie Murphy at the Super Bowl and Grantland's "Do You Like Prince Movies" podcast for keeping this on my mind all week. My little brother moving back from the The Mini Apple didn't help.
Rationalization 12: Maybe I'm Just Like My Mother.
She's never satisfied. Can you be a mamma's boy if you act like her. Just asking to verify or debunk my ex-girlfriend's claims.
A friend, a female one:
So regardless of whether I'm like Mom, there is a definite Oedipus complex. This may explain the parallels of my last relationship (she and my Mom shared the same first name, my little sister and her shared the same middle name, she stood at the median height of my female family members, and that we me at the same ages my parents did) and why I think I favor taller women with longer hair. I can confirm the latter when the ex-girlfriend, whom I'm very tempted to name after how she left me, stalked me, and contacted me only to repeat the process (if I feel less spiteful over the female friends who...if I give the details, I may be inferred as hypocritical) purchased stripper shoes to spice things up. 5'9" is so hot.
My friend who I was talking about said I was always dissatisfied. Why it resonated could be either because we were having a good time when she brought it up, or because she used one four-syllable word instead of whining about how I'll never be happy. My friend advised me that it may come with a creative personality (so come on, have a little faith in my take on zombie versus wrestlers, Hollywood and the McMahons won't be around to screw it up and it will be Kids in the Hall Free...unless all five want to get involved) and it explains why I'm a decent critic. Of course shutting the latter skill off is tough.
The inability to be satisfied may explain my dilemma(s), but I think I have gotten better at accepting things. Then again, we may not be able to determine that if my best friend chooses to ever talk to me without the demand to like her boyfriend. It should debunk her belief I'm jealous that I'm not the boyfriend, but...
Forgive the Evangelion stylizing, please ignore the two parentheses and just read it as cannot.
In the last blog, I stated that I receive no useful positive reinforcement, and when I think back to the reinforcement, I failed to document how much of it is that I need to change. "You can do this," "Why don't you do that," "Quit doing this," "How about giving time to (hence forgetting about yourself is how I take that)." A lot of it is "you can't do " which I've dealt with since becoming an adult. The worst of it is the guilt I receive from them for not bettering myself by following said advice and how it affects them negatively.
I feel like a sell out for putting my Cat Bus tattoo too low on my neck to be seen when I'm wearing a t-shirt. I did this because of a guilt trip someone laid on me despite they ended up being a total asshole about it. It's nice to know my traps are huge, but his point was that it pisses those who care off. Perhaps, I shouldn't feel like a sell out, rather, I have brought great shame to Studio Ghibli, Miyazaki-San in particular (so much anime in one rationalization, am I right?). Harikiri maybe rash, but appropriate...for Hayao's sake.
Having too much fun thinking of seppuku over a cartoon, I almost lost my train of thought. The last "rationalization" ended in "But..." because she only sees me as a commodity in her life. She thinks it impossible right now to have fun with me, so why worry about me at all. I fear I will eventually hear back when she feels it would be advantageous to have my friendship. I fear I won't have the nerve to tell her to go fuck herself because I'm not a commodity.
Then again, if I'm not a commodity, it explains why no one has made an effort to help out this project. I hope not disappointing people by skipping getting an easy-to-cover tattoo will change that.
So, I'm a sell out. Hell, not ending this blog ripping into Christianity should be proof of that.
If I cannot flourish in the ways I need to, then I would rather be in the box instead of Schrodinger's cat. At least I have the thumbs to determine my fate. I hope Eva doesn't read my mind to further prove that thumbs are for stupid monkeys.
So the cat has arrived, but the significance to existentialism has not. To "Part 5." At least the rationalization won't end on 13.
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