Nothing Exciting Ever Happens.

Hi, blog! I'm sorry I've been neglectfully neglecting you. That's just awful of me, and I'm sorry. How can I ever make it up to you?

You can't. I'm really, really pissed off and I'm never, ever gonna forgive you. I think we should see other blogpeople.

I....I know, I was being selfish, but this isn't me, honest! I can do better, really I can! P-please....just give me one more chance....

*sigh* Okay, fine. Go ahead.

...what? Really? I just.....I didn't expect you to give in so easily.

Yeah, well, I don't have much self-esteem.

Cool. Okay, where to start?

Jesse's Theory of Better Emotional Understanding, via Not Trying To Understand Emotions At All, Really

"I know what it's like to have anxiety and depression. I feel anxious and depressed sometimes, too!"

There's something distinctly obnoxious about having mood disorders that also fall into the realm of words that everyone uses to describe themselves whenever anything mildly unpleasant happens to them. They're always so pleased with themselves, because they can actually understand what someone less fortunate is going through, which is a noble and wonderful thing for them to do, they think. As well-meaning as they may be, of course, they're wrong. Feeling a little bit down once and awhile isn't the same thing has having a clinical depression, which makes you feel really, REALLY down, more often than not! Feelingly mildly anxious when doing something that's generally regarded as being stressful isn't the same thing has having Social Anxiety Disorder, which entails heart-pounding terror when doing things as simple as checking the mail!

You can blame it all you want on simple, harmless ignorance, but making such rash assumptions about things that can actually make people so very miserable is anything but harmless, I'd think...

Okay, maybe THIS will be the year where everything bets betterish!

A Word From The Future: I'll surely recap my New Years Resolution progress at some point later in the year, but......Jesus, if only I had known...

As always, the start of a new year means that people everywhere make promises to themselves, usually involving weight loss, that they probably have no real intention of actually keeping, to be perfectly honest. It's almost as grand a tradition as making films about how not believing in fictional characters is just plain wrong around Christmas, or having the President pardon a turkey that has been wrongly convicted of the heinous crime of being a turkey around Thanksgiving!

Jesse vs. Plumbor, Master of the Shower Underworld!

"Support local businesses", they always say! After all, small businesses are the real America or, um, something. It's a stance I can usually understand, unless you live in a small, particularly rural town, where small businesses are usually run by morons incapable of properly owning a gerbil, let alone an entire business. Absarokee, as a whole, is locally sort of infamous for this. I've lost count of how many times some local twit decided to start a restaurant, rented commercial property, made up some surprisingly professional signage, and maybe even backed it up with some decent sandwiches, only to quickly lose interest in the completely gross idea of actually having to be there and have the doors unlocked so customers can come in. Despite actually having a local customer base more than willing to give them money, a mere month or two after starting up their shiny new business, they'd give up and shut their doors, forever, due to laziness. Meanwhile - and this is something that seems to happen more in Columbus - plenty of thoroughly awful local businesses manage to keep going, despite having no discernible positive traits, I suppose because it's far easier in the long-term to commit oneself to less-than-half-assed work. In no case in recent memory has this been more obvious to me than in an extended kerfuffle involving the only plumber in town apparently.

A Summer in Crappy Cell Phone Photography.....in Mid-Autumn!

Well, this is late. Wanted to get this done sooner, but life stressful bloggy concerns blah blah blah excuses excuses. But things, I think, are settling down and I might have time to waste again, which is always nice. So now, herein lies the pictorial story of the uninteresting parts of Jesse's summer!

Dentistry and a Show!

As I've mentioned, I've been having to make several visits to the dentist lately, to fix cavities caused by, well....let's not get into what Jim's family put me through yet again. Instead, let's get into what I love about going to the dentist: the awkward banter between dentist and hygienist. Two people who generally have nothing in common, but are forced to fill the silence while their patient of the moment is incapacitated with fingers and various dental instruments inside his or her mouth. To me, this is amateur theatre to ease the pain of the procedure at hand. I love it.

*an ad for NBC's The Voice plays on the radio*

Hygienist: Have you seen that show yet?

Dentist: Nnnnnno.

Hygienist: It's really good.

Dentist: Oh. I never really got into American Idol.

Hygienist: But this is better!

Dentist: Mmmm-hmmmm.

Hygienist: It's not like American Idol. Everyone is hand-selected because they're actually good. So, every performance is epic.

Dentist: Mmmm-hmmmm.

Hygienist: So you don't have to spend weeks watching all the bad auditions to get to the ones that are good. You should watch it.

Dentist: Is that the one with Steven Tyler on it?

Hygienist: No, that's American Idol.

Dentist: Oh. Paula Abdul then?

Hygienist: Also American Idol.

Dentist: Oh. Mmmm-hmmmm.

Michigan's Auto-Erotic Obsessive Fixation

A Word From The Future: In retrospect, let me say that I'm glad nobody hired me in Detroit's shitcomony. If I'd found work, I might've spent even more time living with The Worst Person In The World.....That I've Known Personally. Thank you, bar and grill whose name I forget. Thank. You.

Okay, it's time for a little rantiness, in a not-terribly-organised format because this isn't a terribly important post!

So, like, yesterday I called on a recent application, to some crappy bar and grill. I was expecting the usual - a polite decline, maybe a facetious reminder to reapply again in a few months. Instead, I'm treated to a passive-aggressive tangent about how there are people "more deserving" of the position, who were "in Michigan before" me, and they don't appreciate me "trying to take it away" from them. So, basically, the owner of this particular establishment sees a job application from some kid whose previous work experience was in Montana, and interprets this to mean that I'm trying to steal jobs that (one assumes he thinks) should go to the out-of-work auto factory workers. Because, um, out-of-work factory workers are more important than out-of-work other types of workers, apparently.

Well, firstly - and it's always hilarious in my mind when socially awkward Jesse can actually say this about another human being - someone clearly needs to work on their people skills! Perhaps I just called on a bad day, but....yeesh. Secondly, um, isn't this a little, well, questionably legal? Even if it were I'm entirely too spineless to actually do anything about it, but the curiosity is there. Thirdly, if you are going to consciously and unfairly discriminate against a certain type of job seeker, at least don't be blatant and tell it right to their faces! That's just obvious. And fourthly, this recalls the time I was let go from that generic café in Absarokee after I moved into Columbus, because they didn't want "out-of-towners" working there. It seems as though Jesse has a precedent of not fitting in, well, pretty much anywhere! Wheeeeeee!

Now that I've been illogically accused of job-stealing, I'm slightly closer to understanding what it would feel like to be a crude and offensive Mexican stereotype.