It turns out that I was able to get the sidekick up and running, with the free nights and weekends. JEAH.
The only problem is I'm having reception issues...at work...scratch that...all over and near Wall St, which is just fucking, "wow" considering that I live in New York City, the financial capital of the world, where I'm pretty sure people use their celphones a lot. I can't even say it's the phone (or maybe it is...), because, there are other people here with them and no, they don't seem to be having the same issues that I am having. Or it doesn't look that way.
But, then again, "ha ha ha ha, I'm life, I'm going to be unfair to Glen. Ha ha ha."
See, this is why I have this mentality/outlook on life. This is a perfect example. I'm pissed because of the dissapointments. The constant dissappointments. That's all life ever feels like: Constant dissappointments. They hit me in the face like well-rolled snowballs; hard and cold, they don't immediately break apart upon hitting my face. And it's like this, almost all the fucking time. If it's not one thing, it's another.
I really can't wait for lunch, so that, yeah, I could struggle to find reception to get on AIM, because, yeah, why should I be getting the maximum usage on my phone for the extra $20 I'm spending a month? I mean, why should I be getting at least a bar when I'm walking around an area like WALL STREET so I can use my CELPHONE? Life needs to stop shitting on me, and anyone else who probably doesn't need it/deserve it. Hell, I can give Life a list of people who sorely need to be shat on...but, that's another entry.
Ugh.
I haven't been on form as of late. It stems from this whole "It's almost my birthday" funk that I seem to fall into almost every year. Usually, something makes me fall into this "funk." Or someone. Last year, it was Pennie telling me that she had met someone else. Yes, she felt the need to tell me at that exact moment. The night before my fucking 23rd birthday. What impecable timing.
This year, it's a few things. Here goes:
First off, apparently, I must be a good luck charm, because, when you women have any interest in me, which eventually fizzles, you find someone else. Instantly, especially when you fuck me over. I mean, at least that's how it looks from here. It's fucked up. It's also really fucking depressing because, seriously, why should you be happy after fucking me over? Huh? Why should you just happily walk away, and I writhe in silence?
And, egh, I kinda like someone at work, but, she doesn't seem to be interested. Who saw that coming?
This ultimately goes in the direction of me thinking that there must be something wrong with me. I mean, everyone leaves, everyone gets over me, and, oh yeah, I must be fucking ugly, too. Sometimes, I wish I had a typical shit eater grin. You know the one. The one that when you see it, the first word out of your mouth is "wow, that dude looks like an asshole." And you're usually right about it. If I had this specific type of grin, women would draw specific conclusions about me and my character, and you know, fuck me, because, we all know that a woman will take an asshole over someone who's genuinely good.
Also, I've got to stop liking chicks for their personalities. I've got to start fixating on their breasts or something, because, you know, women love being told that they have "nice tits" as opposed to "wow, you're an awesome person." An awesome example of that was Cecily, who would have rather dated (wait, she actually did) a dude who only commented on her body and is practically a date rapist. That was a much better choice than say...me. But, with her, I really shouldn't feel bad. She has terrible taste. I would have probably stood a better chance if I was, per say, a tool. Yeah, she likes tools. Only tools. Yet, all she ever does is bitch and moan about how much she hates tools. Next time she says that (if I ever choose to freely IM her again), I should just tell her to "Shut up and stop fucking them, because, yeah, all you fucking date/fuck are tools."
But, yeah, I really shouldn't let it get to me. It's not my fault most women are fucking selfish, chickenshit hypocrates.
Oh, and speaking of chickenshit hypocrates, I ran into this chick Athena today. Wait. Scratch the "ran into" part. She walked by me and "didn't recognize me" (I'm sure she recognized me) and I say "didn't recognize me" because, back in high school, where I first met her, we were pretty close. It's also safe to say that I was into her, and she into me, but, yeah, in the begining (actually, the first fucking day) of my Senior year (her Junior), she stopped talking to me, because, get this, she had gotten a (rich) boyfriend, which I had to find out from someone else. Yeah, she also stopped talking to me, almost instantly. Just me. No one else. Just me. It was really fucked up, considering how close we had gotten the year before. So, seeing her today, probably happier than a pig in shit when she doesn't deserve it, infuriated me.
It goes back to the whole "If you dick me around emotionally, you'll be happy" thing I mentioned earlier. It's fucked up and I hate it. Fucking, she doesn't deserve to be happy. At all. She's fucked up. And a chickenshit. She obviously couldn't handle being with someone like me. Well, good. Fuck her.
Ugh, I dont' want to be at work today. I just want to lock myself up at home and listen to Ion Dissonance.
I worked my last Saturday last week. JEAH, because, seriously, working Saturdays was really starting to get on my nerves, not to mention that my workload felt like it was growing and growing by the week. Also, I was permenently moved to the other building that the firm owns and, yeah, I do a lot moving boxes. All day. So, that in conjunction with all the shit I have to do Saturday was killing me.
Another really rad thing is that all the days I requested off thus far are Saturdays, like the one coming up. It's my birthday. Thank God I'm not working on my birthday, let alone a birthday that's on a Saturday.
I saw the Final Cut of Blade Runner last night at this special theater, The Ziegfeld. It was the second time this month that I saw the film there (the first time was last Wednesday). The first time I saw it, I went with my friends (from my old job, The New York Botanical Garden) Dante, Jolynne and Efrain and last night I hit it up with Rei and Xose (Jose).
Speaking of which, hanging out with Rei and Xose last night was interesting. It felt like, there was never a rift between us (mostly between me and Rei), and yeah, it was cool. It was like old times. Hopefully, there will be more times like that.
The Sidekick plan sucks ass. Basically, I'd have to give up half of my Whenever minutes and free nights, which is like, no. People barely call me, but, I know as soon as I have half my minutes cut, BAM, I'll be getting calls from everyone. But, yeah, the T-mobile rep had told me that because I've been a T-mobile customer for more than a year, I was able to have 600 Whenever minutes, no free nights, but, the 600 minutes.
It sucks.
Probably going to use it Pre-paid.
My brothers ended up getting an X-box 360, like, 2 weeks ago. And they got Halo 3 on the night that it came out. Wait. They got the game first, then the system. Yeah. That about sounds right. Sorry, I should have written that out better, and in order.
I have yet to touch the controllers, which is no big to me, because, I'm not really big on Halo anyways. I think it's horribly overrated. There isn't anything special about the game, really. It's a standard FPS with vehicles, and a very limited weapon selection. Well, that was the case with the first and second game. I mean, games like Perfect Dark and Timesplitters had weapons up the ass, where as the first Halo had, what, 4 weapons? What is that all about?
Also, I'd probably enjoy Halo more if the archtype of the Halo fan wasn't a loudmouth, fratboyesque asshole trying to mimic FPS Doug. Okay? Quit that shit. FPS Doug is funny. You are not. Fuck you.
Shit, one time, I played Timesplitters 3 with this one dude who was like "I'm Scott Vogel, I sing for Terror" and my initial thought was "Wait, I fucking hate Terror." From that moment on, or at least while I was in that game, I made it my mission to kill that shithead as much as I could. I did talk about how much I thought that Terror sucked ass as a band, but, sadly, that guy probably wasn't really Scott Vogel. What began to give it away was the fact that that's all he said: "I'm Scott Vogel. I sing for Terror." Nothing else. Asshole. Getting my hopes up like that...
Eventually, I'm going to be getting Guitar Hero II. I've made that a priority, when, really, I should be getting speakers for my computer.
Or a scanner.
Or, I dunno, I should pay the $45 balance on my Cel phone bill.
Speaking of which...I finally got a Sidekick 3. JEAH. All I have to do now is add the Data plan to my current plan and I'm all set...which I'll get to, eventually. I got it off my brother. He bought himself an MDA Wing, so he had to get rid of the Sidekick. He let me have it for $100. Yeah, I paid my brother $100 for the phone. See, I'd rather give him the money than say, some of the people on Craig's List, especially when I would have paid, what, $50 more for a phone in worse condition? Fuck that.
Ugh, I gotta finish some work.
Later.
