Thursday, June 02, 2005
Why do you get all the love?
So...I've been listening to the new NIN cd all day, and oh my fucking god... I never get tired of it, it is fantastique!
My day, has been one of upheaval. My foreman for some reason has turned into a bit of a jack ass, and at one point (two years ago) we were actually friends, so this bothers me tremendously, even moreso, because he jumps on me for every little error while the rest of my "perfect" crew gets away with bloody murder. I understand that he expects a lot more from me, and therefore when I slip up that it's odd, but he's been a dick lately. Ugh, this sounds so base. Understandably though, I don't like being blamed for wrongs I did not commit. Makes me mad, it does.
So, the Boss snapped at me yesterday and again today for completely paltry reasons, and with "lectures" that are so old and tired and garbage, but still manage to make me feel like shit, because I'm very capable at any work I do there, and he knows it. I'm not being a braggart either-- you don't have to be a rocket scientist to do this shit and do it well. Today was just disgusting though. I was tired, and feeling antisocial (the presence of a certain WestJet for every single fucking day this week is taking it's toll), and the Boss felt like I was being an ingrate for some reason. The guy just took a course on peer relations in the workplace, and you'd think he'd know when people just need to be left alone, rather then badger them about "team spirit". Oh team spirit... tepid bathwater left to stagnate in the sun!
Really, I just felt down. I'm not sure over what, but just generally pissy. Overall, it was not the greatest day, other then getting to cut Celebration Gardens all by myself, and doing a spanking good job of it. I got stuck in a schoolyard though and ripped some nice little troughs into the grass when I got pushed out. Thrilling. Exhilerating. I fucking hate this job.
I think that's actually the stem of the problem right there. This used to excite me, and I used to actually enjoy it, (whine whine whine) but now, I genuinely feel trapped in it. And suprisingly enough, the reason sounds trifle, but it's because I'm not ganging any more (as in, cutting fields autonomously). I really really loved being out on my own, doing my own thing, with minimal human contact. However, with staying on days and consequently, at Meadowview, there is no ganging to be had. It's seventy-twos (the small ride-ons) for the whole summer. The flock of ditzy lazy girls.
But, more upbeat news. Turns out that St. Thomas' has open mike nights on thursday and friday, so I went down there tonight and read a poem. The only thing is, is that there is like a ten person audience, max, and no one had "done" poetry before. They were more then happy to accomodate, but then I was internally pressed to rifle through my stuff and find a poem "appropriate" for the crowd of ...older people and their small children. It was not good. I read one called "bats" which I kind of like, but it's pretty corny (I realized this half-way through...why would that happen?). They liked it, but still, I think that a poem about bats in the beginning of June may have made me come across as this angsty dark entity, even though the poem didn't have a tone anything near that. Insert paltry applause, and my swift exit. At least I got some practise, but my voice is still pretty awful from "the contagion" I've been getting over.
I heard Elaugh dropped her food in her waterdish at Bento's house. Amusing. I wish I'd been there. And Bento's boy is still terrified of her. Nevertheless, I think she's in a good place, and that makes me happy.
What else is new? Nothing. Boring boredom, and one interesting piece of art that I produced today that looks awesome. I'm currently reading a book by Douglas Coupland called "Polaroids of the Dead", and there is a quote in it from Truman Capote that goes :
"As for me
I could leave the world
With today
In my eyes."
(As written by Coupland on the teeshirt of a German interviewer, with a permanent marker.)
The book is awesome. There's a chapter devoted to Cobain, and how much Coupland was actually moved by his coma in Italy, and later, his suicide. When I think about Cobain, I always feel like there was this intrinsic part of the nineties that I was completely unaware of at the wrong time. It's like I wasn't even there, despite how "worldly" and well rounded a kid I actually was. And now, when Nirvana is one of my favorite bands, I feel like a shmuck, because I wasn't "there" when they were.
Question for you all to think about: What is being "real" to you? ¶ 9:46 PM
My day, has been one of upheaval. My foreman for some reason has turned into a bit of a jack ass, and at one point (two years ago) we were actually friends, so this bothers me tremendously, even moreso, because he jumps on me for every little error while the rest of my "perfect" crew gets away with bloody murder. I understand that he expects a lot more from me, and therefore when I slip up that it's odd, but he's been a dick lately. Ugh, this sounds so base. Understandably though, I don't like being blamed for wrongs I did not commit. Makes me mad, it does.
So, the Boss snapped at me yesterday and again today for completely paltry reasons, and with "lectures" that are so old and tired and garbage, but still manage to make me feel like shit, because I'm very capable at any work I do there, and he knows it. I'm not being a braggart either-- you don't have to be a rocket scientist to do this shit and do it well. Today was just disgusting though. I was tired, and feeling antisocial (the presence of a certain WestJet for every single fucking day this week is taking it's toll), and the Boss felt like I was being an ingrate for some reason. The guy just took a course on peer relations in the workplace, and you'd think he'd know when people just need to be left alone, rather then badger them about "team spirit". Oh team spirit... tepid bathwater left to stagnate in the sun!
Really, I just felt down. I'm not sure over what, but just generally pissy. Overall, it was not the greatest day, other then getting to cut Celebration Gardens all by myself, and doing a spanking good job of it. I got stuck in a schoolyard though and ripped some nice little troughs into the grass when I got pushed out. Thrilling. Exhilerating. I fucking hate this job.
I think that's actually the stem of the problem right there. This used to excite me, and I used to actually enjoy it, (whine whine whine) but now, I genuinely feel trapped in it. And suprisingly enough, the reason sounds trifle, but it's because I'm not ganging any more (as in, cutting fields autonomously). I really really loved being out on my own, doing my own thing, with minimal human contact. However, with staying on days and consequently, at Meadowview, there is no ganging to be had. It's seventy-twos (the small ride-ons) for the whole summer. The flock of ditzy lazy girls.
But, more upbeat news. Turns out that St. Thomas' has open mike nights on thursday and friday, so I went down there tonight and read a poem. The only thing is, is that there is like a ten person audience, max, and no one had "done" poetry before. They were more then happy to accomodate, but then I was internally pressed to rifle through my stuff and find a poem "appropriate" for the crowd of ...older people and their small children. It was not good. I read one called "bats" which I kind of like, but it's pretty corny (I realized this half-way through...why would that happen?). They liked it, but still, I think that a poem about bats in the beginning of June may have made me come across as this angsty dark entity, even though the poem didn't have a tone anything near that. Insert paltry applause, and my swift exit. At least I got some practise, but my voice is still pretty awful from "the contagion" I've been getting over.
I heard Elaugh dropped her food in her waterdish at Bento's house. Amusing. I wish I'd been there. And Bento's boy is still terrified of her. Nevertheless, I think she's in a good place, and that makes me happy.
What else is new? Nothing. Boring boredom, and one interesting piece of art that I produced today that looks awesome. I'm currently reading a book by Douglas Coupland called "Polaroids of the Dead", and there is a quote in it from Truman Capote that goes :
"As for me
I could leave the world
With today
In my eyes."
(As written by Coupland on the teeshirt of a German interviewer, with a permanent marker.)
The book is awesome. There's a chapter devoted to Cobain, and how much Coupland was actually moved by his coma in Italy, and later, his suicide. When I think about Cobain, I always feel like there was this intrinsic part of the nineties that I was completely unaware of at the wrong time. It's like I wasn't even there, despite how "worldly" and well rounded a kid I actually was. And now, when Nirvana is one of my favorite bands, I feel like a shmuck, because I wasn't "there" when they were.
Question for you all to think about: What is being "real" to you? ¶ 9:46 PM
