GO PUS...uhh...CELTICS!!!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Well I'll Be Damned
21 days later. That's a mixture of laziness, laziness, laziness and uninspiring happenings on this side of the globe. For me atleast. I have no idea what that other clown is up to, other than being the usual ass that he is.
Moving along. Not that I had anything specific to say, just basically had to write, since it's been like forever since something was put up on this b*tch. You can say we had an argument and needed to take some time off to settle our differences. This here is to say that I'm, hopefully, back for a while, until that beautiful thing called laziness kicks back in. And that can be soon.
I already feel it coming along.
It is now 11.24am. The earliest that I have awoken in God only knows how long. Not that it matters since I have not been going to school lately. Why? Oh, just a strike. Again.
So yeah, here we are again. This feels like the first post that I put up on this here blog. You have no idea what it is you want to write, but you just want to write so you basically just let the words spill, or womit (like the old people say) and see what comes out. Nasty.
I should probably go and do some pushups like I've been telling myself that I would be doing. Ha! "Good luck with that" I say to myself. I think I should do it, it'll motivate me to do something other than nothing, which, to be honest, I don't mind doing. Nothing that is.
...
Ok, ok ok ok. I'll go.
Dammit.
I'm out.
Moving along. Not that I had anything specific to say, just basically had to write, since it's been like forever since something was put up on this b*tch. You can say we had an argument and needed to take some time off to settle our differences. This here is to say that I'm, hopefully, back for a while, until that beautiful thing called laziness kicks back in. And that can be soon.
I already feel it coming along.
It is now 11.24am. The earliest that I have awoken in God only knows how long. Not that it matters since I have not been going to school lately. Why? Oh, just a strike. Again.
So yeah, here we are again. This feels like the first post that I put up on this here blog. You have no idea what it is you want to write, but you just want to write so you basically just let the words spill, or womit (like the old people say) and see what comes out. Nasty.
I should probably go and do some pushups like I've been telling myself that I would be doing. Ha! "Good luck with that" I say to myself. I think I should do it, it'll motivate me to do something other than nothing, which, to be honest, I don't mind doing. Nothing that is.
...
Ok, ok ok ok. I'll go.
Dammit.
I'm out.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Does it make sense to fire people even though it is common knowledge that your company made billions of euros in profit in 2008?
Especially seeing the state of the economy and knowing that you are one of the few companies who can afford to hire some of the people who lost their jobs?
No it doesn’t.
-10 Fresh points.
I’m out.
Especially seeing the state of the economy and knowing that you are one of the few companies who can afford to hire some of the people who lost their jobs?
No it doesn’t.
-10 Fresh points.
I’m out.
Alrighty then...
Ok, it's official. I'm through with school. Ok, I lied. But this is getting annoying. Before coming to France I always thought that when I heard that schools on the French side were striking, it seemed fun.
This shit is not.
My years in France have been strike plagued. There are no other ways to put this. Last year, we got locked out of school for damn near 2 months. You would leave your house to go to school (on the first couple days atleast, when they said the strike would only last a week) and as you arrive you would see a bunch of clowns (not real clowns, but clowns nonetheless) playing guitars and singing in front of the entrances. Not letting anybody in. *insert gasface here*
They would have these sort of meetings called General Assemblies. Total wastes of time. I went to the first one since they said that during these so-called meetings we got the chance to vote if we wanted to continue the strike or not. Never again. Those things last 4 to 5 hours.
My school is pretty small, around 15000 or so students. 300 people voted for the strike. That's democracy. And those same 300 people continued voting for the strike for 2 months. Where were the other 12000? Most probably at home like myself.
Oh well. Guess what? Yeah, you got that right. We're on strike again. Only this time, the teachers won't be complaining about how us students are wasting their time. Because they are the ones striking now. Yessir, I wonder what their excuses will be now? What am I saying? There won't be any excuses. Psshhh, moving right along.
It's no wonder Paris is viewed as a strike loving country. That shit couldn't be any closer to the truth. I get the whole "fighting for your rights" crap, but there is a limit. Fight for YOUR rights. Do NOT under no circumstances disturb me while I'm peacefully living my life. I'm not bothering you, don't bother me. Do that and we most definitely can get along. As things are now, we are enemies. Oh well, I guess that's the whole purpose, to get the rest of the people agitated so that it will force the government to act.
What is that you say? The people in government are the ones at fault? Oh. Well that changes everything then. Why not just get rid of them? Too radical? I agree. But it was funny when heard the first time. (You won't get the last couple sentences if you don't read the link)
Oh well. Such is life, and sadly, I'm stuck in the middle of it. As is, I currently only have school on fridays. Fun times.
I'm bored as hell.
I'm out.
P.S. The upstairs neighbours had a fight last night. That shit lasted for more than an hour. Somebody got beat the hell up. Poor lady. Baby was screaming its head off and dude kept laying the smackdown on his lady. They're like two floors up and I could hear her hit the floor from here. Disgusting.
This shit is not.
My years in France have been strike plagued. There are no other ways to put this. Last year, we got locked out of school for damn near 2 months. You would leave your house to go to school (on the first couple days atleast, when they said the strike would only last a week) and as you arrive you would see a bunch of clowns (not real clowns, but clowns nonetheless) playing guitars and singing in front of the entrances. Not letting anybody in. *insert gasface here*
They would have these sort of meetings called General Assemblies. Total wastes of time. I went to the first one since they said that during these so-called meetings we got the chance to vote if we wanted to continue the strike or not. Never again. Those things last 4 to 5 hours.
My school is pretty small, around 15000 or so students. 300 people voted for the strike. That's democracy. And those same 300 people continued voting for the strike for 2 months. Where were the other 12000? Most probably at home like myself.
Oh well. Guess what? Yeah, you got that right. We're on strike again. Only this time, the teachers won't be complaining about how us students are wasting their time. Because they are the ones striking now. Yessir, I wonder what their excuses will be now? What am I saying? There won't be any excuses. Psshhh, moving right along.
It's no wonder Paris is viewed as a strike loving country. That shit couldn't be any closer to the truth. I get the whole "fighting for your rights" crap, but there is a limit. Fight for YOUR rights. Do NOT under no circumstances disturb me while I'm peacefully living my life. I'm not bothering you, don't bother me. Do that and we most definitely can get along. As things are now, we are enemies. Oh well, I guess that's the whole purpose, to get the rest of the people agitated so that it will force the government to act.
What is that you say? The people in government are the ones at fault? Oh. Well that changes everything then. Why not just get rid of them? Too radical? I agree. But it was funny when heard the first time. (You won't get the last couple sentences if you don't read the link)
Oh well. Such is life, and sadly, I'm stuck in the middle of it. As is, I currently only have school on fridays. Fun times.
I'm bored as hell.
I'm out.
P.S. The upstairs neighbours had a fight last night. That shit lasted for more than an hour. Somebody got beat the hell up. Poor lady. Baby was screaming its head off and dude kept laying the smackdown on his lady. They're like two floors up and I could hear her hit the floor from here. Disgusting.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Freedom Papers Rejected
As I mentioned in my last post, I have a part-time job. I don't necessarily enjoy working, but it allows me to eat whenever and whatever I want without praying whenever I swipe my bank card.
I've also taken on sponsorship of one of the players on my team. His family isn't in the best financial position and eventhough I, myself, might not be...I can't sit back and see a kid play a sport without the proper means. He's the most talented kid I've worked with till now and is a front-runner for the Dutch national U16 team. I promised him that I'd cop him a pair of kicks if he makes the team and he definitely will, so I kinda need to prepare for that.
Last week was Carnival here in the southern part of the country, basically a time when folks dress up in silly costumes and go out on the town with the primary purpose of binge drinking. They'd start around 2PM and end around 4:30AM. The "P" and "A" are on opposite ends of the keyboard, so no need to think I'm mistaken. Yes, 12-15 hours of nonstop boozery. Cool for them, sucks for me if I need to go through the city or use public transportation.
Anyhow, because this is a tradition for southern Dutchies, lots of businesses close for the week or shorten working hours to allow their employees the freedom to act a fool through the streets.
This week opens up a lot of work opportunities for students, because it's also a week off from school. Yes, students drink too. So I took this opportunity to work 4 shifts, Monday thru Thursday.
Not just any shift...the early shift (6AM-2:30PM).
Now, I knew this would be tough, but figured, "Hey! I could wake up and watch NBA games on the west coast and head off to work."
To make a truly long story short:
DAY 1
I was soo tired my legs began to wobble. Feet hurt, but I grinded it out. Still went to basketball practice an hour after getting home.
DAY 2
This was the toughest of the three days, I had not gotten any sleep the night before (watched maybe 7 minutes of a Celtics game). At about 7:30AM fatigue started kicking. Keep in mind, my shift ends at 2:30PM. You know how one begins to sulk when they see no end in sight. Well yeah, I sulked hard till 12PM.
In the 8 hours and 30 minutes that I'm clocked in, there are only two 15-minute breaks. The breaks are 3 hours apart, killer!!! Anyhow, there I am working trying not to think of the time and we all know when times on your mind I just about slows down the nothing. You'd swear major time has elapsed but it's only been 6 minutes. That sort of thing.
Fatigue was wearing me down, I found myself falling asleep while operating my fork-cart. Not safe at all, but hey, had to keep moving. I stopped at one point when I couldn't figure out what my scanner was instructing me to do, when that happens I gotta consult boss-lady. She wasn't at her post, so I stayed there and fell asleep on myself like only Eugene Hanson could.
Anyhow, mid-day and I decide I'll take the 15-minute break to nap. Best decision I ever made. Could finally speed up and get work done, time was no longer an issue, standing no longer and issue.
The only issue that still stood in my way was Sven. Sven is a fellow student worker from Germany. Sven is a nice guy, helping, cheery, dorky, all those things. Problem is...Sven is morbidly obese. He's about 6'3 and way over 285. This is not the issue, the issue is that Sven does NOT shower before work. Sven comes to work smelly and leaves reeking.
Now it's not all that bad the whole time, it varies as the day goes along, or should I say intensifies. We've all smelled overweight people, it's a sour, bad taste in the mouth type of stench.
In the morning (6:00-8:45) it's bareable, you can be within 2 feet of him and the scent wouldn't kill you; you'd smell it, but not die.
From 9:00-11:45 you're beginning to pull away from him a bit more and the sweat becomes visible through his oversized t-shirts.
12:00-2:30 you are running from dude, hoping you don't have an order that will put you at the same spot. Well, I had an order during the last time slot mentioned and had been workig on that order for over an hour and lo and behold, Sven was pulling his fork-cart up in my aisle. SHIT!
He didn't come in, as his order had him at the end of the aisle putting about 15-18 meters (45-50 feet) between the two of us. I thought to myself that God was on my side, keeping Sven at several arm's lengths from me, but the devil plays tricks and so does Sven's odor.
THE. ODOR. HIT. ME. HARD. FROM. 40-50 FEET. AWAY.
At the point I wanted to die. No, in fact, I wanted to DED. At least I was sure I would be. Now, it's hard to call someone out on odor charges, hard. I saw it happen to a girl in high school once and I have no idea what happened to her after that year.
The anger had now set in, I was itching to walk up to dude and put him on blast....wait, scream it from across the aisle that he needed to come correct. How can a stench be so potent that it has a 50-foot radius? Or circumference...whatever.
Day 3
Had to work with Sven again.
Day 4
And yet again
Oh, did I mention he also drove me home.
I don't wanna talk about this no more.
I've also taken on sponsorship of one of the players on my team. His family isn't in the best financial position and eventhough I, myself, might not be...I can't sit back and see a kid play a sport without the proper means. He's the most talented kid I've worked with till now and is a front-runner for the Dutch national U16 team. I promised him that I'd cop him a pair of kicks if he makes the team and he definitely will, so I kinda need to prepare for that.
Last week was Carnival here in the southern part of the country, basically a time when folks dress up in silly costumes and go out on the town with the primary purpose of binge drinking. They'd start around 2PM and end around 4:30AM. The "P" and "A" are on opposite ends of the keyboard, so no need to think I'm mistaken. Yes, 12-15 hours of nonstop boozery. Cool for them, sucks for me if I need to go through the city or use public transportation.
Anyhow, because this is a tradition for southern Dutchies, lots of businesses close for the week or shorten working hours to allow their employees the freedom to act a fool through the streets.
This week opens up a lot of work opportunities for students, because it's also a week off from school. Yes, students drink too. So I took this opportunity to work 4 shifts, Monday thru Thursday.
Not just any shift...the early shift (6AM-2:30PM).
Now, I knew this would be tough, but figured, "Hey! I could wake up and watch NBA games on the west coast and head off to work."
To make a truly long story short:
DAY 1
I was soo tired my legs began to wobble. Feet hurt, but I grinded it out. Still went to basketball practice an hour after getting home.
DAY 2
This was the toughest of the three days, I had not gotten any sleep the night before (watched maybe 7 minutes of a Celtics game). At about 7:30AM fatigue started kicking. Keep in mind, my shift ends at 2:30PM. You know how one begins to sulk when they see no end in sight. Well yeah, I sulked hard till 12PM.
In the 8 hours and 30 minutes that I'm clocked in, there are only two 15-minute breaks. The breaks are 3 hours apart, killer!!! Anyhow, there I am working trying not to think of the time and we all know when times on your mind I just about slows down the nothing. You'd swear major time has elapsed but it's only been 6 minutes. That sort of thing.
Fatigue was wearing me down, I found myself falling asleep while operating my fork-cart. Not safe at all, but hey, had to keep moving. I stopped at one point when I couldn't figure out what my scanner was instructing me to do, when that happens I gotta consult boss-lady. She wasn't at her post, so I stayed there and fell asleep on myself like only Eugene Hanson could.
Anyhow, mid-day and I decide I'll take the 15-minute break to nap. Best decision I ever made. Could finally speed up and get work done, time was no longer an issue, standing no longer and issue.
The only issue that still stood in my way was Sven. Sven is a fellow student worker from Germany. Sven is a nice guy, helping, cheery, dorky, all those things. Problem is...Sven is morbidly obese. He's about 6'3 and way over 285. This is not the issue, the issue is that Sven does NOT shower before work. Sven comes to work smelly and leaves reeking.
Now it's not all that bad the whole time, it varies as the day goes along, or should I say intensifies. We've all smelled overweight people, it's a sour, bad taste in the mouth type of stench.
In the morning (6:00-8:45) it's bareable, you can be within 2 feet of him and the scent wouldn't kill you; you'd smell it, but not die.
From 9:00-11:45 you're beginning to pull away from him a bit more and the sweat becomes visible through his oversized t-shirts.
12:00-2:30 you are running from dude, hoping you don't have an order that will put you at the same spot. Well, I had an order during the last time slot mentioned and had been workig on that order for over an hour and lo and behold, Sven was pulling his fork-cart up in my aisle. SHIT!
He didn't come in, as his order had him at the end of the aisle putting about 15-18 meters (45-50 feet) between the two of us. I thought to myself that God was on my side, keeping Sven at several arm's lengths from me, but the devil plays tricks and so does Sven's odor.
THE. ODOR. HIT. ME. HARD. FROM. 40-50 FEET. AWAY.
At the point I wanted to die. No, in fact, I wanted to DED. At least I was sure I would be. Now, it's hard to call someone out on odor charges, hard. I saw it happen to a girl in high school once and I have no idea what happened to her after that year.
The anger had now set in, I was itching to walk up to dude and put him on blast....wait, scream it from across the aisle that he needed to come correct. How can a stench be so potent that it has a 50-foot radius? Or circumference...whatever.
Day 3
Had to work with Sven again.
Day 4
And yet again
Oh, did I mention he also drove me home.
I don't wanna talk about this no more.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Just Sayin'...
This isn't a post about anything in particular. This is just me writing. You may continue reading if you have nothing else to do with your time, or you can just close the page and wait until something more interesting pops up on here.
Life isn't as fun as I thought it would have been leaving my parents' home. To me it would have been parties, fun fun fun. Boy was I wrong. Totally wrong.
Leaving forced me to grow up. Very quickly. Not that this bothers me. But the stress of the everyday problems and issues that need to be resolved can sometimes take its toll on me. And lately, it has been. And I'm not liking it.
My mom always reproached me of being care-free. Something that I always hated. Yes it was true. But like they say, you always ask for the truth but you are not happy when you hear it. Maybe back then I would have rather have her not say anything to me and just be like "It's your life, you do as you please", but thinking back, that would have most probably been the wrong approach to take on the situation. Especially dealing with a person such as myself.
I'm the type of person that needs to learn things the hard way for me to understand. This is a fact. And it's something that I'll admit to anyone willing to lend me a listening ear or eyes in this case. But at times I would want things to be easy also. Living abroad with hardly anyone of your immediate family around is hard. Harder than I've ever imagined. Thank God for a few people in my life who try their best to make shit easier for me. You know who you are.
I love y'all even though I most probably don't show it enough. But I do.
Lately I've been a bit down. I try to present a happy front to those who I meet up with and those who I talk to. But sometimes the pressure of everything comes crashing down on me and I just can't take it anymore. And I give up trying. And I shouldn't.
I've been told over and over that I have the capabilities to achieve anything I want in life, but it's just that I don't have the proper motivation. And until I find something that will motivate me enough to achieve my goals, I most probably will not. And that shit saddens me. But again, it's the truth.
The truth will set you free. I hope it will. Cause I sometimes feel like I'm in prison. This isn't because of anybody. This is something that I'm doing to myself. At the end of the day I have no one else to blame and point fingers to but myself. I have all reasons to be happy, but I'm not. And I hope that by being honest with myself I can be free of all this pressure.
I sometimes wish that I had the same work ethic like back in primary school. And the same eagerness to learn. The same openmindedness. The same enthousiasm. It seems that as I get older, all of those traits in me seem to fade away. Yet, I'm only 21. Really young. It makes no sense to me.
Will I be able to find back that youthful enthousiasm that took me to where I am today? Will I be able to turn things around and pull myself out from under these dark clouds above my head? Will I ever amount to something? Will I make my parents proud when it's all said and done?
I have too many things running through my head. I most probably am worrying myself over nothing. Maybe everyone goes through these types of periods. Maybe. Nothing is for certain though.
I just gotta keep my head up and continue moving forward. It's the best and only thing I can do. I'm supposed to take advantage of life over here. Not let it beat me down. Maybe I should take advantage.
Yeah. I'll do that.
Sorry for this. I just needed to evacuate. Talking alone in the appartment would not have helped.
I'm out.
Life isn't as fun as I thought it would have been leaving my parents' home. To me it would have been parties, fun fun fun. Boy was I wrong. Totally wrong.
Leaving forced me to grow up. Very quickly. Not that this bothers me. But the stress of the everyday problems and issues that need to be resolved can sometimes take its toll on me. And lately, it has been. And I'm not liking it.
My mom always reproached me of being care-free. Something that I always hated. Yes it was true. But like they say, you always ask for the truth but you are not happy when you hear it. Maybe back then I would have rather have her not say anything to me and just be like "It's your life, you do as you please", but thinking back, that would have most probably been the wrong approach to take on the situation. Especially dealing with a person such as myself.
I'm the type of person that needs to learn things the hard way for me to understand. This is a fact. And it's something that I'll admit to anyone willing to lend me a listening ear or eyes in this case. But at times I would want things to be easy also. Living abroad with hardly anyone of your immediate family around is hard. Harder than I've ever imagined. Thank God for a few people in my life who try their best to make shit easier for me. You know who you are.
I love y'all even though I most probably don't show it enough. But I do.
Lately I've been a bit down. I try to present a happy front to those who I meet up with and those who I talk to. But sometimes the pressure of everything comes crashing down on me and I just can't take it anymore. And I give up trying. And I shouldn't.
I've been told over and over that I have the capabilities to achieve anything I want in life, but it's just that I don't have the proper motivation. And until I find something that will motivate me enough to achieve my goals, I most probably will not. And that shit saddens me. But again, it's the truth.
The truth will set you free. I hope it will. Cause I sometimes feel like I'm in prison. This isn't because of anybody. This is something that I'm doing to myself. At the end of the day I have no one else to blame and point fingers to but myself. I have all reasons to be happy, but I'm not. And I hope that by being honest with myself I can be free of all this pressure.
I sometimes wish that I had the same work ethic like back in primary school. And the same eagerness to learn. The same openmindedness. The same enthousiasm. It seems that as I get older, all of those traits in me seem to fade away. Yet, I'm only 21. Really young. It makes no sense to me.
Will I be able to find back that youthful enthousiasm that took me to where I am today? Will I be able to turn things around and pull myself out from under these dark clouds above my head? Will I ever amount to something? Will I make my parents proud when it's all said and done?
I have too many things running through my head. I most probably am worrying myself over nothing. Maybe everyone goes through these types of periods. Maybe. Nothing is for certain though.
I just gotta keep my head up and continue moving forward. It's the best and only thing I can do. I'm supposed to take advantage of life over here. Not let it beat me down. Maybe I should take advantage.
Yeah. I'll do that.
Sorry for this. I just needed to evacuate. Talking alone in the appartment would not have helped.
I'm out.
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