mychai's Diaryland Diary

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A down night. "Bla" would be a good word.

I'm feeling somewhat... somber tonight

It's a residual from the seven or so years of living in a pretty severe depressed state. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I enjoy the effects of having normal seratonin levels. I see the world in colors, I smell coffee, and the air just seems sweet. But sometimes, like when sweeping behind the oven, I come across the nights of old rotten meat.

That is, if you like similes.

They say depression is feeling sad all of the time. I tend to disagree a bit. I think depression is the absolute lack of feeling anything. And then, on the off chance you do feel something, it is along the lines of feeling like you have let everyone down and aren't worth feeling joy.

I can see how people get addicted to dangerous/bad things when they are depressed. Things like drugs, alcohol, gambling, driving fast, cutting your arms, etc., actually make you feel something other than nothing for the short while that their effects are in control. Then, when that thrill is over, you are back to numbness, and then you regret everything you did, all the while the process starts over.

So, yeah. I'm feeling a little blah tonight. How are you doing?


I've become addicted to Yahoo's LaunchCast, their personalized radio station that lets you program what artists you like, rate songs and albums, and it will basically mold the music it throws at you to your tastes.

They have an unpaying service to where you have to listen to a one-minute ad every two or three songs, which isn't bad. But it is the bare-bones of the service. I've enjoyed it very much for the week or so that I've been playing with it that I decided to pay the $3 per month to get the whole service.

Even though I do it on occasion, I always feel a little guilty about downloading MP3s. Especially from artisist who I really enjoy and I know aren't making a killing in record royalties.

This way, I can enjoy their music, download it and burn it if I wish, and I know with sound conscious that at least a little money is going their way.

I'm so fucking moral.


Yesterday, at work, my recruiter calls and says that he has a task for me to do. I figured it was to come in and spend three hours addressing envelopes for him since I forgot to do my mandetory check-in call on Monday to say that I am still alive and excited about the Air Force, bla bla bla. But instead, he said that he was busy on Wednesday but was invited to come sit in on a Boy Scout meeting and he saw the possibility to drum up some new recruits. Instead, he would like to send me as his representative.

I was somewhat honored. A Staff Seargent from the United States Air Force wanted little ol' me to represent him at a luncheon and talk to others in his place. And if there was media present -- school newspapers, etc. -- I could say pretty much what I wanted unless it pertained to the upcoming War in Iraq�.

Hell, I don't even talk about that to you guys, much less to some journalist. I've been working in news for too long to trust some reporter with my opinion on such a touchy subject. If you think long and hard, though, I bet you would figure out my opinion on the subject.

Anyway, so I wake up and iron my pants and my nice Air Force shirt. I get all of my recruiter's business cards and rehearse what I would say to the miriad of questions I usually get. When do you leave? May 27, if not sooner. What will your job be? If I leave in May, I will be a meteorologist. If sooner, an Air Traffic Controller. Aren't you scared of the war? Nah. Do you realize how few Air Force people die in wars? Mostly just pilots. And in the past several wars, not even them. What about boot camp? Are you scared of that? A little nervous, yes. But most of Air Force boot camp is spent indoors. I won't even touch a gun until my very last week.

I got at the luncheon before anybody else, save the head guy. We chat idly for a while until other people started trickling in. They were older people, mostly involved in some way with the Boy Scouts. The later it got in the morning, the more I wondered where the Boy Scouts were.

"When are the others coming?" I asked the luncheon director. "Oh, well the Marine recruiter should be here soon, as will the Navy guys. I don't think the Army people are coming."

"No, I mean the Boy Scouts. When will they all get here?"

"Oh. They aren't coming. This is just a sales meeting for the new scouting program that would help with your recruiting efforts."

Great.

So, I sat through their schpeel about how fun it would be to this this this and how it would help you with that that that. It was boring, to say the least. And I was not as happy as I was about waking up the morning after Hell Day to attend a luncheon in care of my recruiter.

But I did get a free lunch. It was -- and I kid you not -- a ham sandwich and a can of Coke.


I went to Barnes and Noble tonight and ran into a girl I knew. Except, for the life of me and for the whole time I was talking to her, I couldn't remember anything about her other than that I knew her from somewhere.

Then, when I was pulling out of Barnes and Noble, I remembered she was a girl I talk to when I go to parties at my good friend Katie's house. She has this honker for a nose, but I find it very cute. I like little things like that that seperates her from other people. Anyway, I always flirt really heavily with her when I go to those parties. I wish I would have remembered who she was while talking to her.

Oh. I bought "Tao Te Ching" by Lao Tzu (yes, I'm a geek) and Riding the Bus with My Sister: A True Life Journey (yes, I'm a girlie boy).

I've been meaning to read the Tao for a long time. It's pretty interesting. "When a foolish man hears of the Tao, he laughs out loud." I wish I had the gonads to say the same thing about my diary, though it is usually my intent to have you laugh out loud. I seriously doubt, though, that my intent is ever carried out, though.


Well, that's about it. I'm about all ranted out. Plus, the wine is really kicking in.

It's a cheap Savignon Blanc. I wouldn't recommend it, so I won't. Yall have a good day tomorrow.

11:42 p.m. - Wed., Feb. 5, 2003

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