Skip to main content

She laughed at my rockstar dreams.

Ultimate frisbee tryouts have left me exhausted and sore, but I love it. It's super competitive and I basically have no shot at making it onto the team, but the week-long experience was totally worth it. And it was fun. And at least I can say I tried and gave it my best effort.

I regret nothing!

But I lost it today. I lost my cool. I told him I was excited about my dad coming home. "What are you, gay?" He asked, snickering. I bit my tongue and let it slide. He didn't know better. But the whole thing repeated itself later when we were in the car. I listened to a message from my mom. And then I lost it. I turned to him. "If you say one more thing about my dad I'm going to punch you in the fucking face." I could feel my blood starting boil and my fist started to curl by reflex. "Are you serious?" He said.

"I'm totally fucking serious."

I hate losing control like that. Of my temper, of my emotions, of myself. It's just not something I'm supposed to do. People don't expect that from me. And I don't do it very much. I strive to make the boundaries of my patience very flexible. I try not to let people cross the line with me. But that doesn't always work. I mean, I'm entitled to get angry sometimes, right? I don't even know. Maybe I should start letting people cross my line so I can let off more steam. Then maybe they won't do it anymore.

Is that being assertive?

I guess I just need to talk stuff out. To stop bottling stuff up. It's just weird to do that. I never do that. And when I sit down and try to, I can never think of anything to say. I never have anything to really complain about when people are listening. Rather, I never really know how to talk things out when people are listening. Oh well.

I'm in a great mood, though. Life is terrific.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I'm a geologist, not an alcoholic.

I thought I had seen people drink before. Hell, I thought that I had drank before. But, clearly, I thought wrong on both of those counts. I cannot, for the life of me, think of a reason to justify all of the drinking that transpired down there last week. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just was. Field work just makes a man thirsty. Taking this class was easily one of the best things I've ever done. We worked hard every day out in the field. Wake up at 7, leave the beach house by 8, hit the water by 9. My first three field days were in service on the R/V Acadiana , a 58 foot vessel that towed the CHIRP fish , the air gun, and the streamer to measure all the seismic data--looking at the subsurface of the seafloor we drove over. My second ship was the R/V Itasca using the multibeam , sidescan , and grab sampler --getting seafloor surface bathymetry. They were long, exhausting days and we returned to the docks around 6 or 7 every evening. And then, drinking. So much ...
1 comment
Read more

Finger pointing good.

When I was on the boat doing science at Galveston, I saw a lot of dolphins. It was a significant experience for me because I have never actually seen a wild dolphin in real life before. It was sort of a dream come true. And in the middle of the shipping channel, no less. They really are amazing animals. It really kills me to realize I'll probably never see dolphins in Galveston again because of what happened to the Gulf. What is happening to the Gulf. It really is a tragedy. On a much lighter note, I started this Insanity workout program and it was so intense that I threw up before I finished the first workout. That is a good sign, I think. It is certainly an incentive to complete the entire thing. Anything that makes you feel that bad so quickly must be good for you.
3 comments
Read more

Surgery and satisfaction.

My brother is wrapping up high school band camp. It's kind of funny, because suddenly we have something we can both relate to. Sort of. Not really in a loving, brotherly way. It's more like a begrudging transmission and reception of information. You take what you can get, I guess. After a few days of band camp, I discovered that he had been leaving his instrument in the band hall without a lock. "Nobody steals stuff out of the band hall." He told me. I related some appropriate anecdotes and let him borrow my own lock until he could get one for himself. "I'm going to need that back," I told him. "So you'll need to get your own lock." A couple of weeks later, I reminded him of the terms of our deal. The next day he returned my lock and revealed that he had left his saxophone unlocked. And apparently, for reasons beyond my comprehension, this is my fault.
2 comments
Read more