Happy birthday to... me.

Well, that's it. I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm twenty years old. I don't feel older. Or more mature. Or anything really. I'm just a guy--a man, even--who spins around in circles too much. Maybe I'll have that life awakening experience next year.

It was a pretty good day. I woke up to the words "Congratulations on successfully earning your national EMS certification." And everybody was really happy today. And I just felt good all day. And even the weather was really nice.

The perfect mix of moody, cold, and depressing--my kind of day.

I had my tarot cards read today. Which I was absolutely not expecting to have happen. I also read some astrology stuff about myself. It wasn't anything I didn't already know, naturally. I mean, how much can a book like that really tell you about yourself? For that matter, what can a deck of cards tell you?

A surprising and sobering amount, actually.

Which is good, I guess. I am bored. I have to change something, and I know what it is. I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be coming up when I unwrapped the picture frame. It's something I have to do for myself--because it's healthy, I'm told.

But it probably won't happen. I mean, I am a Scorpio; it's in my nature.

Comments

Side effects include constant irritability, being an ass.

It was a typical day in MUS 307 . A typical day where nobody pays attention to anything the professor talks about. A day where people play shitty flash games instead of take notes. A day where people sit and refresh their Facebook newsfeed instead of follow the slides. A day where people roll their eyes and go to sleep instead of listen to the music examples. A day where people get up and leave ten minutes before lecture ends instead of having the God damn decency to stay the whole time and pretend to be interested. I mean, if you're going to be so unaffected by the music we're studying in class then why the fuck did you take the class in the first place? Fuck it makes me mad. And I haven't even started talking about that fucker who sits in the back and tries to whistle along with every song that gets played in class. Alright, dude, we get it: you are just too cool and you know everything about jazz, ever. You know every standard ever written and everybody's so...

No, Holmes, no!

All I ever think about these days is how much I have to/want to study. I hope that's not how I have a good time, now. Would I rather go hang out with peeps or would I rather sit in and study? It is a difficult question to answer. Just a couple more days and then I can focus all my energy on the next greatest idea I've ever had: iconic detectives and sharks.

Pseudo-science (like psych).

I consider myself a man of science. I try to approach problems and deal with them logically, using observations previously recorded to handle new problems. So of course my interest was piqued when someone I knew posited that men are needier and more complicated than women. An interesting theory. But to properly examine it, one must understand the concept of sexual selection and its two aspects: male competition and female choice. Which brings us to point one: men are needier [in relationships] than women. This is true. In a natural/primal setting, the males are generally love-'em-leave-'em kinds of guys. Their main objective is to reproduce as much as they can. Humans, in their infinite wisdom, have decreased the emphasis on this to the point where it has become a footnote in male purpose. Civilization dictates that, instead of finding a partner for the sole purpose of reproduction, males find females for life companionship. With the effective removal of their natur...

everything is fine

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