My first fear

I learned to swim from a woman who would later, on a different side of town, be my 4th grade teacher. I learned to swim at Lakeside Swim and Racquet club near Moody Middle. The pools were situated in the middle of a residential neighborhood. Everything was outdoors, outside and open to the elements. The pools shallow ends were 3 feet in the adult pools, and had stairs and a metal handrail that lead down into the pool. I do remember being afraid to jump in the pool even though I knew my dad would catch me and that the water was only 4 feet deep. I don’t know why I was so (?) to just jump in and swim. I remember in my swimming lesson that we used kickboards, and these styrocrap items gave me complete confidence in swimming the length of the pool. Yet, I dare consider swimming the length of the pool without one. I was sure this was not possible. Soon, some wise a$$ took my kickboard away from me. I did not like this. Thank you dad. I am thinking this is the summer I learned to ride a bike as well. All’s good, right?
My dad was going to school at VCU at this time, as was my mother. Someone’s bright idea was to take me swimming with my dad at the Franklin St. gym. I remember going with my dad and putting on my swim trunks. I remember being totally confused that we were putting our swim trunks on inside. I did not believe there was a pool in the basement of the building like my dad told me. The only time I’ve ever seen anything pool like was in an aquarium. I just went along with being a stupid kid and humored him. We walk into this hallway that has all of these little 1 inch square tiles that are an aqua blue color. I am in awe. I have never been anywhere like this. At this point, I am not entirely sure that there is not a pool in the basement of this building. The hallway opens into a giant room that is the size of a gym, only bigger: complete with the 20 ft tall ceiling. And yes-there is a giant pool here that literally is the size of the room, except for the outer edge to walk around. The room is dim-there doesn’t seem to be any natural light in there. We put down our towels and my dad jumps in to the shallow end: which is 5 feet deep. An older man gets out of the pool, and there is a cane with an arm grip at the top for him to slide his arm in. The man has no right foot, and his leg is missing from below the knee. The end is rounded off. I recall this like the man threw his amputated leg in my face and made me touch the rounded edge as I cried my a$$ off. Now this did not happen, I am just surprised it didn’t. I don’t notice anyone else here.
I might have started freaking out when my dad told me to jump in to him. Let’s see I’ve never seen NO pool in a building, it’s kinda dark in here (apparently I had major objections to the fact that we were NOT outside), the shallow end is 5 feet deep so you know the deep end is 50 feet deep because you’re a kid and you’re not stupid and you know that in deep water that’s 50 feet deep there are animals living because you saw that at the Baltimore Aquarium just 2 weeks ago and you are sure as hell not jumping in that pool with sharks in it, and I am not going to be dumb like the man who got his leg eaten off in the pool some time ago who doesn’t know any better than to find a different pool to swim at, and my poor dad who is about to lose his leg or get eaten completely.
I am not sure if my father ever coaxed me into that pool that I was sure had sharks and other sea animals in it, or not. About 15 years later, I was back at this same pool getting my Red Cross Lifeguard certification. I was also told at this point that my uncle Geoff had a friend that broke into this pool, and drowned. (I am not sure about this-guess the source). I did wonder about this when I was doing my training here. That may be ironic if it was true-teaching life guarding in a pool where someone drowned because there was no life guard on duty when some young guys broke into the building many years ago. By the way, the pool is only about 15 feet deep or so, but to a small young kid 5 feet can be intimidating when you are a tiny runt. And, no there are no sharks or other sea animals that live in the deep end of the pool in the Franklin St gym.

*

Mindless slobs
working jobs
where they have NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO idea
of what's going on.

How do I know?

Because I am ONE of those
mindless slobs
working jobs
where I have SOOOOOMMMMMMEEEEEE idea
of what's going on.

Human bowling

My CT scan was negative, which is positive. I went in, filled out a crapload of paperwork-the lady verified my West Virginia address from when I was 15 (?) and then I went from one waiting room to another. I sat there, and then they called my name as well as another at the same time. I became light-headed and almost took out a bunch of old people. So, the nurse all "OH JESUS SWEET JESUS NO JESUS"ed out on me and ran off to get a wheelchair. Now, I don't remember wheelchairing-except for that one night in on Grace St (@VCU) in an apartment building with a black and white checkered floor after Justin, Olga, Chris and I had drank waaaaaay too much. (Breathe) So anycrap, they put me in this machine and it sounds like that movie CONTACT with the girl that was a detective in the movie about the guy who ate people and wore their flesh-oh yeah, Jodie Foster in Silence of the Lambs and I had to close my eyes cuz I was getting scared and didn't want to have any sh*##y nightmares about getting stuck in a machine.

After this, Will and Alex and their baby Sara met up at our place. We went to the memorial service. I am glad I went. I got to pay my respects and see people from my old life. Half of my fraternity was there. Then there were the ladies. Yeah, they all still looked the similar, but now a little more grown up. Even the girl that poured an entire cup of keg beer over me was there-we were civil and I guess have made peace. The ceremony was beautiful-I am glad that I went. I am glad that I got to be in this woman's life, even if just for a season. I am saddened by the fact that out of everyone I know, she was one of TWO highly accomplished people (the other is DR RUSSELL) and that she was still studying. It's just not fair.

Cynical side of customer service.

I am tired of whiny voices.
I am tired of stupid travel agents.
I am over people not reading terms and conditions.
I am over people yelling at me cuz their claim is denied cuz they are stupid.

I have been becoming increasingly hostile towards stupid people.
I have become a mini lawyer-getting specific about the technicalities.
I have become a bit cynical towards rude people.
I have become untolerant of ignorant people.

How are you going to call and yell at me for your stupid mistakes?
How are you going to tell me the information before my eyes is wrong?
How are you going to tell me that I am wrong?
How are you going to tell me "that's not the way it happened..."

I enjoy telling people why their claim was denied.
I enjoy reading from the terms/cond why its NOT covered.
I enjoy putting people in their place when they are dumb.
I enjoy arguing with people who are above the terms and conditions.

I would miss it if I got canned.
I would miss the opportunity to move within the company.
I would miss the compensation for duties performed.
I would miss some of the people here.

My problem with inanimate objects.

I've been having problems with inanimate objects lately. No, not like walls jumping out at me and grabbing my wallet. Problems like alarm clocks being possessed by rick james or dead music gods, problems like a toilet that thinks it's in a marathon, problems like a mailbox that didn't want to close. I am tired, so tired of stupid crap of stupid stuff of socks that have holes in them from who knows where and am thinking about stealing a car and going to California. (Where the whole state is an animate object, and it will fall into the ocean as soon as I get there. ) I've got a lot to do-I've got a catscan and a funeral to go to.

Suburban honkey psychosomatic issues....

Let's try to find out the source of my headaches. I think they are psychosomatic. So I went out to the Hayride this weekend and worked until I became high and got annoying due to the epoxy fumes. It's that time of year again, time to scare the little childern and all the adults with them. I am starting to work at Pizza Hut again, and have no clue why. I think it is because its right outside my back door and I can earn some extra money. Then there is the real job, which I am about to get back into the swing of. Rachel now works with the stupid people who call during the morning hours instead of the idiots who call at night. Melissa is now in claims, but her desk is not moving. That girl that I had a problem with has moved to claims, and they got her a desk. I tried to "make friends" with her or whatever, but that wasn't going to happen, and that was her take on it. MY THOUGHTS THE WHOLE THING- after trying to be civil, I started to stew-I'm not the one who stepped out of line/acted out of character/said something I probably shouldn't have-I asked to move when she started wispering behind my back to the other side of the department. Now, She gets to move to the department I want to go to (claims) and I can't because I've got things in my file (that were false, yet brought to management's attention by a certain individual who will remain nameless who I am DEFINATELY speaking about right now) and now I can't move ANYWHERE in this company until I've been here a year due to things in my file that are petty. Yet the person who informed management of these "things" is moving up the corporate ladder, getting a raise and going to the department I wanted to move to. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
The voices in my head are not helping my headache. And I am thinking about an ex of mine now that I've heard she's pregnant and just wanted to call/drop a line and apologize for being a self-centered bastard during our relationship. I'm not trying to get back with her or anything along those lines, I've just realized over the past few months how much of an ass I was and how I made her life miserable due to my problems my issues my need for control. Arrgg I hate having issues. Welcome to Ian's Suburban Problems. Today's problem with being a cracker is............

Being scarred. (As found on the internet)

But people love to be scared and they will hit these flicks even for one or two moments of terror, and as I said already, that is a subjective thing. To some, terror is a demonic spirit haunting a house. To others, it's being trapped in a restroom in a Juarez bar with a crusty, ham-handed, syphilitic circus clown. To Macauley Culkin, terror is those recurring dreams recalling long nights spent in the hot tub at Neverland with Jacko, Bubbles the chimp and Corey Feldman.

http://shakingthrough.net/clemenza/reviews/2005/amityville_horror_2005.html

My plant at work

So I bought this plant at Walmart for my desk. I noticed a month after I got it that the leaves were starting to fall off of it. Maybe my plant committed suicide. Apparently there is a lot of negativity at my desk or something. Then I find out that you can kill a plant by over-watering it. So, a month later there are almost no leaves. So, I pluck all the leaves off, and trim it down to some weird NINE INCH NAILS plant with just stems and no leaves; I stop watering it-essentially waiting for it to die.

Then the leaves start to grow. So I talk pretty to the plant and try not to curse people out while at work. I sang to it one day. Someone says they saw me making out with it one day, but I am sure that these are lies. So, we will give it a few days and wait a few days to see if the plant dies or thrives.

Vagueness

You remember that movie with the guy that wore the shirt that said that thing?

Have you seen that thing I was using earlier?

What is that?

Where is it?

My alarm clock.

Every morning, I wake up to different music. I mean different music every morning. R&B one morning, muzak the next. I'll probably wake up to 80's pop tomorrow. It's very odd, and I find it a bit unsettling. Not utterly disturbed, just confused. I mean one day it's Jay Z and the next it's Beethoven. Then, the next day Air Supply and the next morning it's Rage Against the Machine. I dunno what it's going to be. I find myself staring at the thing before I even hit the snooze bar in a stupor due to the sheer and utter surprise of what is playing. Now, it's one of those radios with a dial that you turn to get the station, nothing digital. Yet, I don't know really what channel I am ever listening to. It's a bit odd. I wonder if Laura is changing my radio station every night, or if my radio is possessed by dead rock stars or something. Hmm.

Swedish meatballs and the people I know.

I really want a turbocharged Saab real bad. With a sunroof (if it's not a convertible) and some mutha%*&#en leather seats. Maybe a Volvo will do, but probably not. Yeah. I also want a Suzuki motorcycle really bad. I want them so bad I can taste it. It's not like I could actually drive it right now, but just having it would be nice. (I'm not materialistic at all-no siree).

I am gonna miss Rachel. She is moving to the day shift. That means we only get to play together for 1 hour everyday at school. :( Poop. I am gonna miss her. There will never be anyone like her to help me yell at the customers and let them know how dumb they are. We will continue to give the same quality customer service to each and every customer, just on different shifts.

Sean and Johnny and everyone else moved away, so there must have been a foul and mysterious odor.

Laura got me a pedicure today. I am surprised the woman would touch my feet. She scraped off like 40 layers of stuff. I've never had a pedicure before, and probably would never have gotten one-but Laura insisted. My feet are so clean and actually look decent, not like feet.

Ignant f*cks

Well, I am sitting in business class on the train right now and there is a beautiful blond who just stripped off her pants in front of me (damn she’s wearing shorts, and no is wasn’t for me) but I am on my way home from my Uncle’s funeral. It was a great ceremony, but I wanted to see him actually buried. Bill didn’t think we’d have time to get me back to the train, but I did end up sitting in the lobby for 2 ½ hours. We are entering Union Station right now-HEY ADAM! So, I didn’t get to see him actually put in the ground, but the service was nice and we had some chicken at the reception. (That blond is now on the phone and talking about her bodyguard-must be invisible, I sure as shit don’t see him-I thing that she is one of thoses people who talks on cell phones so the people around her KNOW how important she is.) So, I didn’t get to see him put into the ground, and that is really infuriating. Wow, everybody sure gets the fuck off this train here in DC.
(Sit the f*ck down and stop walking the isle grandpa). So this weekend started on a train going to the beach. I went to the music festival and there were minimal problems. I went with my mother who apparently was traveling with the Washington DC ski club, which is a group of annoying whiny alcoholics. The act as if they are high schoolers trapped in the bodies of 50(+) year olds. They are probably nice people but you know how one can ruin it for everyone. She was almost 60 and had jet black hair cut in the same fashion as I did when I was 7. She wore a visor and screamed from the balcony at every opportunity that presented itself. I will admit, It is kind of amusing to watch a grown woman that you are not related to make a complete ass of herself and almost plummet 4 stories or so to her demise. Unfortunately, this did not happen. But Suzanne was an annoying f*ck, I must say.
I woke up Sunday morning at 8am. Not out of choice, but due to the concert that was going on down the block. Apparently, the ROCK & ROLL ½ Marathon was taking place right outside our door. Now, We were staying at this place called the Flagship that is 6 levels of motels all connected by a balcony on each floor. I get up and there are people running down the street. At 8 in the morning. To live rock that is going on a block down from my hotel. Great. Something good did occur on Sunday though, and a family friend brought it to someone’s attention that they may have a problem. An improteau intervention, you might say. All in all, it couldn’t have gone better if it had been planned. (I swear the conductor just said Assland was one of the stops;the way that all of us are looking around, I am sure I am not the only one who heard it.)
I saw Leann Rimes, and saw Journey. I was the youngest person at the Journey concert who knew the words. Sad but true. The kids there who were younger than me were just there to get drunk as it turns out. I wasn’t. Wow, the sun sure does reflect off of the Potomac River. I am blind. I can still type. Even with this giant fucking blister on my middle finger. (Grandpa is doing laps again, now with grandma. Isn’t that cute? I thought they got thrown off the train a while ago.)
Somebody get the f*cking retard out of the deep end. Monday morning, I got woken up to yelping from the parking lot. I was sure it was a drunk from the ski club, but no. Apparently, A family was staying at the same hotel, and decided to go for a dip in the pool, complete with their mentally retarded family member. I would say child, but this "person" looked like they were in their 40’s. Apparently, the fat kid was playing shark and trying to pull the man into the deep end. This in turn caused the man to start yelping. Yes, Yelping. Sounding like some friggin baby seals getting clubbed. And with him facing the motel directly, his yelps echoed. Not to be funny, but it sounded like Sloth from the Goonies. So, I started to think about this for the next 30 minutes while I watched the cruel fat kid torture his brother or whatever. Yeah, I probably would have done it too.
About this time, I realize how cynical I’ve become. At work, at school, at play. Okay, there is no school, but who the f*ck knows that-I am actually considering going back in a year or two and possibly getting my masters. I was talking about this the other day with someone at work, and the same thing was said. I am trying to get ahead, but while in the slow day to day routine, I lose my patience. This is not good, dear patient boy. I think a golf cart just ran into the side of the train outside of my window. Yeah, they are here for grandma and grandpa-apparently, she’s got a hip off or something. Do they ever do the windows on these trains? Just water spotting on every window of every train. I’ve come to realize that I hate Richmond. There are some decent people here that I spend my time with, and there are some decent people here that I’ve not gotten the chance to meet yet. And, yes there are some deceitful/arrogant/snobby/needs to wash their ass people too. The people are not the problem, it is the area as a whole. Take these people elsewhere and I am sure that the assholes here might change their perspective. But probably still remain assholes. I think the major problem with Richmond is not anything in the physical location of Richmond or its periphery. My problem with Richmond is within me. I got about 2 years left here tops. Anything more and you’ll see me on the news for going on some bender, knocking over a liquor store, and mowing down a few cops with a stolen car before driving through a mall. Which is another thing wrong with Richmond-the damned cops. I can’t go anywhere without being pulled if a cop gets behind me-even when I am not doing anything wrong. And when I am involved in a car accident, cracker lady cop (who did look good, so that explains why she was a bitch) catches an attitude with me and asks if I "NEED TO BE RESCUED." Yeah, I need some mouth to *#$& resuscitation-can you handle it? Damn, this place sucks bad and I need out. I’ve lived here all of my life except for 2 years in WV, 2 years in Newport News/Lee Hall and a year in Mclean. (Woodbridge/Occuocon Marina looks nice from here) I went to middle school 2 blocks from where I currently live. I shop at the same Walmart I did when I went to middle school. I look out the front window of our apartment into a parking lot of a former department store (now church) where my parents had the fight that ended the marriage. I must get out of here, but there are a few things that keep me rooted. My friends, My family, and my job (hey, there are 2 deer). Yet, I don’t want to leave my job. I do want to transfer to another department or another position with my department, but at this time I am fine with my current position. I might even be happy at the beach.

This week sucked.

I got rear ended while selling my Accord on Sunday while en route to get a money order. The cop asked if everyone was okay. I said that my neck hurt and the cop all caught an attitude with me and asked "DO YOU NEED TO BE RESCUED?" Maybe I did need to be rescued from her. So, I stood there, unaware I was standing next to the exhaust, getting all stupid lightheaded. OLD MAN who hit us stated, "It's my birthday. I was going out for ice cream and my foot slipped." (We were not in the Accord during this time, but the guy's van).

My Uncle/Godfather died. His health has been getting bad, but I didn't expect him to pass. His legs were leaking last week and he passed Sunday night. I get to go to his funeral in Pennsylvania on Tuesday. That means that I have 2 hours from the time I get out of work Monday Night to get to the Train station where I will ride for 6 hours to get to Pennsylvania at 9ish, when the funeral is at 11 am.

Apparently, we have people that were in New Orleans. Or were in New Orleans. They lost everything, like many of the people I've been talking to at work calling in. This is rough and this sux. I can't believe this crap is going on-Sure a big @$$ tv is nice, but where you gonna put it? YOU AIN'T GOT A HOUSE, or nowhere to plug it in. It's just f*#$in nuts.

What is next?