Ner (djner) wrote,

So why do I always start my entries and some emails with the word so? Doing things that way isn't even close to gramatically correct and it doesn't mak that much sense. Oh well, this is my journal, and when I post, I can write whatever, however, and whenever I want :).

I'm a bit less than a week from my trip to SLC and beyond, and I'm looking forward to it. I think I've figured out what is causing my elbow pain so much, and I think it's mostly due to the fact that my computer is so much higher than I am sitting. Since I'm freakin short, I have to have my chairs up pretty high, and this chair that I have here a work just isn't high enough. It's comfortable, but it tends to strain my arm, and by the end of the day, especially when I'm drawing on my huge Tablet, my arm's killin me.

I did in fact find a ride to the campout, and I really had a good time and met lots of people. Oh yeah, did I mention I stayed awake way too long, lost track of time and place while chating. I also drank too much root beer, and told too many blind jokes. Overall, it was a good time, and now I know more of the young people who live around here. I didn't get too much flack for being a Razorback fan, but it did slightly intensify with their loss to Kentucky. These are good people who live here in Rocky Top land, they're just deluded and confused, and their team's most popular song isn't even their fight song.

I've been working on a sulfur recovery plant simulation, and it's finally done. It was very simple in design, but extremely comlicated in it's layout, so it took me a while to figure out how I was going to plumb everything properly without (a) going crazy, crazier than I am and (b) connecting something so improperly that it might end the real world as we know it if built.

I'm fully moved into the new place, and though it's still not fully organized, I think it's better. I'm still having problems keeping Fiona under control there as she likes to eat the at food that's left out, and especially loves cat litter. I'm not sure how to keep her out of it except for getting some kind of shockin system, but it's definitely annoying because I have to watch her constantly. Just like a little kid, I have to worry when she's being very quiet. She knows she's not supposed to do that, but she'll do it until I catch her, and then she stays in one place for a while before she does it again.

I was talking with one of the guys I work with about issues I've continued having in understanding and being confused by women. This isn't a new problem, it happens with me, and has happened since the dawn of time, but we were talking about it for some reason, and he told me I had to read something. I thought it apt to post it here. So so true!

Let's say a guy named John is attracted to a woman named Amanda. He asks her out to a
movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to
dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and
after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Amanda, and, without
really thinking, she says it aloud:

"Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"

And then there is silence in the car. To Amanda, it seems like a very loud silence. She
thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been
feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some
kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

And John is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Amanda is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship,
either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about
whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I
mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of
intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am
I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And John is thinking: ... so that means it was... let's see ... February when we started
going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means ... lemme
check the odometer ...  whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Amanda is thinking: he's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this
completely wrong.  Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more
commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some
reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about
his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.

And John is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again.  I don't
care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to
blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather?  It's 87 degrees out, and this
thing is shifting like a darn garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

And Amanda is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him, I'd be angry, too. God, I feel
so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.

And John is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly
what they're gonna say, the scumballs.

And Amanda is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come
riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a
person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly
care about me.  A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic

And John is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a darn warranty.
I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...

"John", Amanda says aloud.

"What?" says John, startled.

"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with
tears. "Maybe I should never have .. Oh God, I feel so..."(She breaks down, sobbing.)

"What?" says John.

"I'm such a fool," Amanda sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that.
It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."

"There's no horse?" says John.

"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Amanda says.

"No!" says John, glad to finally know the correct answer.

"It's just that ... It's that I ... I need some time," Amanda says.

(There is a 15 second pause while John, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with
a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)

"Yes" he says.

(Amanda, deeply moved, touches his hand.)

"Oh John, do you really feel that way?" she says.

"What way?" says John.

"That way about time," says Amanda.

"Oh," says John. "Yes."

(Amanda turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very
nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she

"Thank you, John", she says.

"Thank you," says John.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted tortured soul, and weeps
until dawn, whereas when John gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on
the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two
Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells
him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there
is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't
think about it. (This is also John's policy regarding world hunger.)

The next day Amanda will call her closest friend, or perhaps her sisters and her mother,
and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours.  In painstaking detail,
they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time
again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering
every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for
weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored
with it, either.

Meanwhile, John, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and
Amanda's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:

"Mike, did Amanda ever own a horse?"

That's all I can think of to write now. I don't have much planned tonight except for a hot shower, relaxation, and going to the store to get some things. More soon.

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