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:: Tuesday, August 26, 2003 ::

After much careful consideration, I've decided to crap this blog and get a new one. IM for the address, YOU'LL NEVER FIND ME COPPERS!!!!
::Sean 7:23 PM [+]::
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:: Monday, August 25, 2003 ::
Yeah yeah yeah another Sunday
okay so with that out of the way, Punch Drunk love is the most... disturbing? Yes! Punch Drunk Love is the most distubing moive I've ever had the displeasure of watch. What the hell? I even though Pulp Fiction was good. Who the hell dates that guy? Who the hell dates that girl? How the hell does a guy like that end up with own business in the first place. It was pretty bad ass when he laid out the four blond brothers.

I'm spent and I have a HUGE day tomorrow. Night all
::Sean 12:17 AM [+]::
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:: Sunday, August 24, 2003 ::
If I'm not mistaken... I asked you not to visit my site. Not you the one in the back with the bad hair.
::Sean 1:04 PM [+]::
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I am the very model of a modern Major General
That's all...
Oh... I got out of Groove Therapy and snagged a few other desperate souls away to the monkey. Life is good. At the monkey I met a wonderful girl. Life is better. Five minutes after meeting her I met her fiancé. Life is moving in negative direction. I'm minding my own business with my buddies at the table next to the wonderful young lady and she keeps tapping me on the shoulder to talk. Life is approaching bad. I note that the guy is unhappy with the situation so I make an effort to talk to him. Life seems to have a way around trouble. The guy blows up and takes a swing, misses, ends up on the floor and I almost got thrown out by some new bouncer. Life is not looking too hot. The wonderful young lady, and Crow intervene at the same time to explain my innocence and I remain. Life is balanced. Relevance? I would much rather have maintained balance but no... god has a sense of humor. Rather than meeting the girl and going through the "drama" with the fellow, I could have just enjoyed the evening out with my friends. That god, what a funny guy with his ups and downs and back to start. Gotta love him, hell the Jesus freaks do.

::Sean 2:18 AM [+]::
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:: Saturday, August 23, 2003 ::
i haven't met that many happy people in my life. How do they act?
Well, my piano got delivered today for to the tune of a sum I can't believe I paid for a piano but I'm happy it's here. After the delivery guys left Janet took a moment to talk about how hot they all were, I ordered some Chinese, Dru came over and we watched The Big Chill. I was basically helled at gun point to watch the thing and I have to say... thank god I wasn't around for the seventies. I'm not making babies for my wife's friend... ever. Watch the movie... you'll see; not a major plot part but Janet's favorite.

I spent roughly thirty minutes after the movie playing horribly on them for my piano but they said it was wonderful. Why do friends do that? I could hear every mistake I made so I know they could. Perhaps what they meant to say was, "It's wonderful for someone who hasn't touched a piano in three years."

The fellows across the street are having a party tonight and I got caught trying to sneak into my house, so I should probably make a cameo over there before I head out for the night. I've somehow been talked into going to Groove Therapy down town at the Hard Rock. Maybe if I close my eyes and think really hard about what it would feel like to have my penis removed, I won't notice the pain from the music and the people around me.

It's felt like Sunday all day and all and all been pretty uneventful. Dinner with Tracy, Paul and Andy, and now home to break for a moment (think of an excuse not to go to Groove Therapy)

I'll try to live a more exciting life, I know I've let you all down :)

::Sean 10:53 PM [+]::
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:: Friday, August 22, 2003 ::
Birthdays are for drinking
Well, despite having to go to work in the morning, I went out tonight with my co-worker, his brother, his friends and special lady to celebrate thiis guys birthday. You know, for such a quite guy... who knew. I will pay for this come morning.
::Sean 2:10 AM [+]::
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:: Wednesday, August 20, 2003 ::
Way to tired t thingk about something clever to put here
Way to tired to write anything of any depth. It was a long day but I had a nice dinner. My arms feel like I've been lift weights but I have not done anything of the sort. Perhaps it's anxiety; I am told a symptom of said disorder is muscle tension. Odds are it has more to do with the fact that I've forgotten to east for the past day and a half and didn't get much sleep last night. I'm going to bed. Night!
::Sean 12:51 AM [+]::
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:: Tuesday, August 19, 2003 ::
Where does the time go?
You know, it just came to me as I walked through the door and looked at the clock, I don't have enough down time lately. The truth of the matter is... I don't have any down time at all as of late. I'm either in the lab, helping someone with painting, hanging shoe racks in closets that don't fit them, meeting someone for drinks to hear about either how great or terrible their day was, or filling some traditional obligation. I use to have time I could come home and for two hours a day just read, cook a nice meal, or tan out on the deck, maybe play a little guitar. These days, I'm lucky if the guitar doesn't have to be dusted before playing, my tan is a little weak, I can't remember why I own pots, and books are decorations on my shelves. It's not getting any better either, nor will it get so. School is upon me. I'm looking four hours in class a day, on average, five hours in a lab, eight hours of studying and weekends of writing. I know... I'll have all the down time I want when I decided to leave the dream of school and face the real world. I'm not hiding in school though. I want a PHD... bitch!

I suppose i can take some comfort in knowing that a lack of down time while I'm in my early twenties will result in a considerably more enjoyable retirement life, that is if my children don't suck me dry and give me heart troubles. Maybe I'll re t hink this whole wanting to be a parent thing. Then again, my parents love me... they say their so happy to have had a child and that I never cause them stress. Come to think of it, the is always a hint of sarcasm in that speech.

Forget about it... I have be up in six hours.
::Sean 1:25 AM [+]::
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:: Friday, August 15, 2003 ::
Well there's a feeling in the air; just like a Friday afternoon
Well, I was in the l ab a little late today, very late considering it's Friday and I usually leave around noon on Fridays. The weekend looks short from where I am but such is life. I figure if I put in some o/t I can get just as much life out of this weekend as any other. We're all starting tonight at slims and I have to say I 'm excited about his for the first time in years. There are going to be a few special guests tonight I haven't seen in some time and one of them has my name all over her.

Saturday, in an attempt to hook up Eve with Dwight (the annoying guy from the lab) we're going tubing down in Mississippi. Caroline and Tracy both got invited which is not going to be pretty. I did break things off with Caroline and I've never been involved with Tracy but I know how evil women can be. Tracy, I'm beggin you to behave yourself. Caroline is an easy cry, i don't want anything screwing up this trip. I'll do anything for you if you can just be nice. K? GOOD!

What else is going on?
Well, the new project at work is going well. Love me some research! I like not having to deal with everyone from the other lab office and the fact that the Evil doctor rarely comes in. Adam and I are becoming buds, he'll be there this weekend (hopefully to run interferance on Caroline (your a pal and your girlfriend will never know you flirted... I swear)
My parents left town this morning for vaction, I expect I'll be getting some rediculous trinkit from the gift shop of every point of interest between here and Seattle. Dad bought mom an R.V. and they are off to see Aunt Susan in Seattle. I can also expect to get calls daily asking me how the dogs are and what I've eaten. "Did you get a good breakfast? I left some fruit bowls for you. Are they big enough for you? I made five casarols and left four of them in the freezer. Should I call and have Lisa go get groceries?" What the hell, I thought parents took vacation to get away from things, including their kids. When my parents leave town all they do is call to make sure I'm okay. My poor father; I can hear my mother now "Sean you're going forty-seven... the speed limit is forty-five. Do you think little Sean speeds? I hope not, I don't know what I'd do if he got in an accident. Oh speaking of accidents; have you checked to make sure the hazard lites work on this?" Maybe it's not a vacation after all.

I'm going to catch a short nap kids before the night is upon me.
Peace, Love, Slims
::Sean 8:19 PM [+]::
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The price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow that it brings
Well, another long day done, another weekend rounding and I'm coming in later than I should be tonight from catching up with some old friends. I've got the Counting Crows numbing me with minor cords and melancholy lyrics and all of the sudden I'm in a place I never wanted to be again. I see the decorations on the walls, the door out and the door to the closet cleverly covered in eyes clipped from several magazines. I hear the same song in the back ground and I'm still wondering why she's crying. I feel the sunlight on the left side of my face, I hear the floor squeak as I walk across the room and sit on the window's ledge. I hear the cars passing on the corner beneath us and I look away from her because I know I've done nothing wrong and yet I feel guilty...

It's funny that I haven't changed the music, that no one would change the music. It's amusing that people thrive on those moments and moments of this kind. I miss those days but I gave them all up for these days. I wonder if I had stayed there, in those days..., if I would be happier today than I am in these days. I'm terribly sorry if that was confusing. It's funny that no matter how well I recall the problems, it seems ridiculous that we let go. It's concerning to think that we pass up the greater moments in life to make sure we live a little longer. What is a canvas with out a painting? I say it's dull.

I like that I can remember so clearly everything about that moment. The irony of how real the surrealness of my past makes me seem. I like knowing that I can change my direction in infinite directions. I hate that I can never unmake a decision... go back in time and settle back into where I decide I would rather be. I love the fact that I don’t regret the things I’ve done, only miss the people I’ve let slip away.

“I woke in mid afternoon cause that’s when it all hurts the most. I dream I never know anyone at the party, and I always the host. Well if dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts. You can never escape, you can only move south down the coast.”
My interpretation, which is all that really matters to anyone appreciating music (there interpretation) is this.

It’s mid life when he comes to grip with reality and looks around to find that he’s part of a white collar, cubical social group that he always, but only, thought he wanted. His imagines how things might have been and remembers that the people he knew back then were far more “real” to him than his socialite acquaintances are today. The trouble is he’s in this world he’s created for himself, and he’ll never be able to erase it from his life but he can move on from it and start anew. Lucky fellow for his position if you ask me, the only problem is, he’ll soon find those ghosts are gone forever.

Night kids.

::Sean 12:29 AM [+]::
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Things due
I would like to formally apologize to Adam for the things I said about his ex. He is right, I don’t' know her and haven't the right to say such things. I hope he'll accept my apology, he can be a real bitch in a lab for eight hours :). Seriously though, I'm sorry... to both Adam and his ex.

No starch on the linen, light on the cotton and press the linen pant flat
On my way to the lab this morning I dropped off my dry cleaning gave the instructions to the guy behind the counter and turned to go. I haven't needed to stop and give my name or anything else for nearly a year and a half, I'm a regular. Well today as I walked out the door, the guy behind the counter, Jeff, mumbles under his breath "rich prick."
I am almost at a loss for words here. For nearly three years, I've taken my dry cleaning to the same place, and on occasion have been in a hurry, but usually chat with the guy for a moment... How are you doing? How about this weather?... I've never been flashy with anyone there, I'm not "rich" and I'm not a prick. Where did this come from? I didn't say anything back to the guy but I looked up to confirm that he was referring to me and soberly pushed through the door. It's been eating me up all day. Just because I dry clean and have most of my laundry professionally pressed makes me rich? It's called budgeting. And because I'm in a hurry one morning I'm a prick. It's called reality.

I may have grown up in a privileged family, but I've supported myself completely for the past three years on principle of character. I have always been courteous to everyone I've ever known, and strangers alike. I have bad days from time to time but never, not once, have I accosted anyone for the annoyance they may have added to my plight. I'm offended. I have decided that unless amends are made tomorrow afternoon when I pick up my laundry, I will forfeit any loyalty I have to Cross-town Cleaners and find a new launderer.

Labor Day
Have I shared my way of remembering when Labor Day is vs. Memorial Day? Here is how I remember. Labor Day is in September, the ninth month. Human gestation is nine months. Statistically, couples engage in sexual intercourse, on average, 2.7 times more often during the month of December. Do the math. There are more children born in September than any other month, hence Labor is recalled, in my mind, to be in September because of pregnant women.
This has been completely off subject.
So Jennifer and I made plans to go to Gulf Shores, Alabama for Labor Day weekend. So far, we've found roughly five people who want to join us. We're planning to Drive out Friday afternoon and stay through Monday morning. We figure it will be in the area of $50/head. No one needs to get a hotel, Jennifer's graciously offered to put us up at her parent's beach's huge. We're thinking $50/head will cover all the meat, and liquor. Jennifer and I are going on Thursday the 28th to Costco to get everything so if you want in, Wednesday night is the dead line. Post script, I'm brining mine and my father's jet skis for the weekend, and Jen is bringing her father's BBQ rig, if you haven't seen it, it's a friggin trailer BBQ pit.

In closing...
I'm a little tuckered out. I've been at the folks since I got off this afternoon cleaning the pool and then mom went crazy with curtain rods to be hung. I'm out for the night kids. I hope everyone has had a good one.

Quote fir the day...
“Once I thought I was in love because every time I was near this girl I got butterflies in my stomach until one day I realized she was simply nauseating me.”- Me

::Sean 12:27 AM [+]::
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:: Tuesday, August 12, 2003 ::
These ties that bind us, can't beat these chains. I love is shelter... I'm gonna walk in the rain.
Misery loves company kids. Running five minutes late for work this morning, I decided to lay a little heavy on the pedal down Union this morning, a bad morning, only to be pulled over by an officer of the law. As soon as I see he is going to pull me over, I go ahead and pull off to the side, put out my cigarette and fish out the old insurance card. I turn to my left and the tubby, mustache wearing, tax dollar eating, prick is holding his (get this) cordless radar gun out for me to see. As he adjusts his belt while twitching his neck left he says quite matter-o-factly "Thirty-nine in a thirty-five son." I'm flabbergasted by how serious an offence he's making this sound but knowing what is best... act like I have respect for his uniform. After hes had me sitting on the side of the road for ten minutes, he informs me that because I was under five miles over the speed limit, this will not go on my record, and there will be no fine. A wave of relief passed over me, I signed the ticket and started back on my way to work, late. No sooner had I started Amy Sue back up... I realized this. This ass hole cop just pulled me over, making me later than I would have been by my own fault, to give me a ticket for four miles over the speed limit, that will never go on my record, nor will I be fined for it. Why the fuck did he bother to pull me over? Anyone? Anyone? And there are those who dare to ask why I don't like cops... Think about it this way, one morning somebody wakes up and says to themselves "I want to tell people not only what to do, but that they are doing wrong... FOR A LIVING..." and so they become cops.

If love is aces, give me the jack
So I make it in to work and find Adam already in the lab, making a cup of coffee and adding a touch of something from a flask. He looked up at me stone faced, apathetic of whatever my opinion might be and tilted his cup toward me. All I could do was say "Make mine a double." This must just be a black day to the old gods. Today was evidently also the anniversary of the worst day in Adam's life as well, and so we celebrated this together as I think everyone should have someone to be miserable around. We listened to blues, sipped spiked coffee, and took turns randomly saying things like "What the fuck was I thinking man?" and "It's a good day for the blues." and my personal favorite for the day "You know... I think she retro-actively never cared" That's Adam for you.

After work, we dodged off campus to the P&H and drowned our sorrows in pitchers of beer while exchanging stories. I'm just bitter I suppose. Adam just feels guilty and forlorn. He told me he couldn't believe who he'd become, and told me of the things he'd said and done. He said "the trouble is, now I can't set it straight because she fears me, I know she never wants to hear from me, but I don't think she ever really knew me, not to say anyone ever "knows" anyone, but as things stand, I think she'll always remember me as the lunatic I was after we split. I've always hated that guy. What goes around comes around... I honestly believe she'll always hate me." I have something to say about this;
I've known Adam for about two months now, maybe two and some change, and spent a fare amount of time talking to him. He generally stays away from women in conversation and I suppose I know why now. I have to say I have a lot of respect for the guy and I think he has impeccable character. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t done something stupid in the name of love and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone my age who loved like this guy. Though he said he knows they’ll never be anything ever again… his eyes hollowed every time he me spoke of her today. I also would like to say this, and I hope this girl is reading; I don’t like you girl. You give my car a bad name. I don’t know why you were looking at my blog if you thought it was his, or why you thought it was his. I don’t like your friend who accosted me online that evening. It sounds to me like Adam is a nice guy who lost himself trying to make you happy and you were spiteful enough to begrudge him that. The words that come to mind for you after my conversation with Adam are, psychotic, paranoid, and perhaps schizophrenic. In other words... fuck off the world has enough crazy bitches.

As for my troubles today, I take solace in knowing today wasn’t the day it was to be in yore. Adam had good advice, “Don’t dwell, but when these days come… remember and try to do so with fondness.” He asked if I still loved her and I told him I would have to get back to him on that. I think I found the answer on the way home though… No. I do however miss those days.

There are eight minutes left in the anniversary of the worst day in my life. I think I’ll close my eyes and let them go unseen. I have only six and a half hours to recover from the festivities my new friend and I shared this evening. I’ll say good night

::Sean 12:56 AM [+]::
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:: Monday, August 11, 2003 ::
N.P.R. called to me this morning in a place I would have rather not left into a day I would particularly rather not face. I'm getting out of the shower and my house is reverberating with Etta James and B.B. King, randomly selected by my computer and it seems a bit ironic.

Kids, we live and we learn and we go on about life the better for the experience. Along the way, here and there, we might mark an anniversary of this or that, but the truth is, the next year is just another day.

I'll be off to the lab a little early this morning. The evil doctor put me over a new series of results and they are eating a little more time out of my day than I would like. I'm not sure if he did it because he thought I was most capable or because he is an evil prick; either way... It's not so bad, I have a little more freedom now, I work in a smaller office of the lab where I only have to see the evil doctor once a day, just before lunch, and I have Adam to keep me laughing all day.

I've lost time here, I have to run kids.

"The thought of our past years in me doth breed perpetual benedictions."-William Wordsworth

Have a great one; it’s on me.

::Sean 8:41 AM [+]::
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It's the strangest thing
Well kids, another Sunday night passed into oblivion leaving behind only the threat of an alarm clock set for six A.M. and five more days of work, but it's a good thing.

The strangest thing I refer to is what we remember, what we forget and how much say we have in the two. There is something intangible in the course of our existence which is never hidden; we need only grasp it. The surreal poetry of moments never fades and the quiet moment before you close your eyes is never really disturbed.

It was a beautiful day today, seventy-two degrees, low humidity, easterly breeze and I remembered something. Scratch that. I remembered sometime. I guess it was roughly two years ago that I had discovered this anomaly, and perhaps a year ago this time that I forgot it. It's nothing profound and it carries neither weight nor water. I believe it is there for everyone to push from but there to support no one.

There is, in life, no predestined course for anything and so where I end is solely dependent upon where I choose to stop. I am only slave to my personal nature and which exists only because of a symbiotic relationship it shares with my daily actions which have formed my personality. Life is going to be whatever I made of it, single or not, rich or poor, educated or simple, loved or loathed, none of these matter. "Worry is the seed of death."

Once a person has conditioned his will, formed a foundation on which his character can blossom, and accepted his place; there is no further need for worry. The trick is my friends; once you have these things and have released worry and regret, you cannot allow yourself to be tainted by you desires. In the face of adversity you can not walk away, I do however suggest however, that you close your eyes to the petition and remember not where you're headed, but why and for whom.

Life is beautiful thing, complex in nature but rewarding in kind. I warn, if you can die a happy man, you haven't loved enough. Atheistic? Maybe. The thing is, I want every minute here I can have, every chance that can be offered and every obstruction available in my path.

I remembered how to forget, recoil, avoid regret and enjoy whatever the result if my choices may be.

If anyone finds solace in this thought, none of the things I’ll never regret have all been worth the joy of their painful lessons.

Good night friend. I'll see you next time
::Sean 12:41 AM [+]::
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:: Friday, August 08, 2003 ::
In other words
Yes, I was typing for forty-five minutes about porn and chicken! I confess, I’m obsessed with it. Something about eating flesh boiled in fat while watching middle-aged women pretend to be “barely legal” just does it for me. At first I was concerned, I thought I was the only one, but then I found out there are millions of us out there. I began making new friends on the message boards and in support groups for my strange but oddly common fetish. I would have never known how normal this all was had it not been for Dru, founder and president of the most widely used porn and chicken fetish based online dating service. Remember, he’s not the just the president… he’s a member.

Elimi Who? Elimiwhoe!
I just spent the past fifteen minutes watching an exceptionally frustrating episode of Elimidate. For those readers who are unfamiliar with this show; I’ll break it down for you. The show starts with one guy, some pencil dicked moron, who wants to get laid so bad that he goes on public television with four whores willing to do anything to get this excuse for a specimen of masculinity. In the first two minutes the four girls walk up one at a time with a quick prefilmed self intro talking about “what they got” The next four minutes are wasted on this egotistical pig asking the women about how they like him. Shortly after this, he suggests something like a hot tub or keg stands where they can tell him more about themselves. This is where the fun begins. These four hollow noggined, house music listening to, fake breasted, hair root showing ladies do nothing but trash each other without alliance for abut three minutes until pencil dick cuts one of them, the least likely to put out. The cycle continues until he’s down to one chick and the show ends.

What exactly does this say about society? If there is intelligent life out there, they are probably not too impressed, so far they’ve seen Hitler address the world, a few episodes of Star Trek, (the one with William Chatner), and five seasons of Elimiwhoe. Murphy’s Law, what are you going to do?

Back to the point of this rant, in tonight’s episode, the guy didn’t even get his validating, head swelling few moment before these bitches went off on each other with a vengeance. If you’re going to fight sirloin scarp like rabid jack rabbits from a trailer park, you have to remember to try and get the scrap.

Commercial break over, have to go will be back

::Sean 12:11 AM [+]::
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:: Tuesday, August 05, 2003 ::
Yeah, I just hacked away for about forty-five minutes on this thing and my browser closed. Fuck it
::Sean 7:34 PM [+]::
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