I am not the sort of guy who leers at every attractive women who walks by, and who flirts with every woman who comes within range. In fact, i hardly ever flirt at all. Well… that’s my opinion. I’ve had everyone from my mother to my theatre friends inform me that i am flirting heavily with someone who, in fact, i’m not even attracted to. I find it especially distasteful to flirt with regular female customers at the coffee shop (despite the actions of some of my male co-workers), especially considering that most of them are at least five years older than me. This rule gets slightly bent when people closer to my age come to the store; i’m just naturally friendlier to people who i assume i have something in common with. However, this still isn’t flirting.
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743997
So, at work today i came to the realization that weblogging itself is an entirely passive aggressive exercise. Think about it: you write down everything that bugs you on any given day, and post it on a site. You then attempt to publicize the site, and ask your friends to head to your site, but you know from past webpage experiences that they never will. So, you’re basically left sharing all of your petty annoyances with whomever wanders in off the proverbial street, thusly getting nothing accomplished at all in the way of human interaction (but constantly feigning “concern” that someone you are blatantly gossiping about to the entire internet world might stop by your site for a quick spin one day). And the worst part is, we all seem to enjoy every passive aggressive second of it.
Just a thought.
741495
Oh god, the adult contemporary station is playing that awful editted version of “You Oughta Know” again, after taking an incredibly dumb shot at the highly superior local classic rock station. The shot was in the theme of “survivor on the radio dial,” and the “carpool” (of obviously overly-pc yuppy scum) voted WMGK off (apparently for playing a Bowie song other than “Changes”). The worst part is that they editted the “fuck” out of the song not with a simple silence or bleep, but by extending the vocal that comes before it, which tricks unsuspecting yuppies into thinking the song is an angsty but rational plea for an exboyfriend to wise up. Angsty, yes. Rational? Whenever i start bring up sex you had in movie theatres since we broke up, it usually doesn’t end up too pretty. This time they followed Alanis with some Billy Joel, but it’s some really bad Billy Joel that WMGK will never play. The happy ending to this story is that i’ll never hear this awful radio station after Viktor leaves tomorrow. Do you sense a theme in today’s posts?? Oh well, i’m off to the coffee shop. More later.
741397
My whole room feels as thought it just went swimming. My bed is damp, my computer has a moist sheen to it, and i am sticking to my clothes. At first i thought i forgot to close our window last night, but in fact the culprit is our HVAC unit. It draws in air from outside the window, and doesn’t appear to filter it especially much, which means it’s just as soggy in here as it is out there. It figures; the one night Viktor manages to go to sleep without turning the air conditioning off is the most humid night of the month. Of course, i blame him for just about everything that goes wrong in this room, and rightly so. The boy just lacks common sense (so much more than i do). For example, last night we were chatting about our new apartments, and he mentioned that his electricity was already on. I asked him if it was included in the price of his rent and he seemed to think it wasn’t. He proceeded to reason that since it was already on, he wouldn’t have to tell the electric company it was in his name, and could live off of someone else’s payments for months. I tried in vain to point out the flaws in this plan, such as unexpectedly losing electricity or being billed for months he did not live there, but was not entirely surprised when Viktor just said “ah, yes” and then promptly ignored me. Later last night he returned from dropping a few things off at his apartment, and informed me that halfway through his visit the electricity went out. It was too ironic for me to even laugh.
741303
None of my newfound sleeping skills have aided me in keeping my eyes firmly shut through early morning trans-atlantic calls to Bulgaria by my roommate sitting two yards away from my sleeping form. I took a personality test last night that informed me that i was a pushover. At first i objected, but soon i agreed. In fact, i am the worst kind of pushover: a compliant one. Once i get over my initial bitching i just go along with whoever is making my life miserable, only pausing to be passive agressive towards them. For example, if i turn up my music in an attempt to get back at someone, i still turn it down at the very loud parts. Sad, isn’ it?