This is a shoot, brother.

This blog is intended not only to convey information about myself, but also to keep my writing and typing skills somewhat sharp.

I've been out of school for over half a year now, and to go from constantly typing papers and writing notes to doing neither is a radical change. Sometimes change is good, but I feel that I am losing something that I identified with.

I like to write, I like physically writing words out. It is my main mode of communicating my thoughts purely. That is why I don't talk much, it involves too much tinkering and formatting what I think is clear and sharp in my head, and dispensing them out as words. It takes too much time, and things usually get lost in the translation from cognitive to verbal. Making sounds with your mouth is harder to do. That is why I am not as quick witted as I think I could be.

With writing and typing, you don't worry about pitch modulation and shaping your mouth and moving your tongue. It takes less of an effort for me to get my thoughts out there the way that I visualize them.

Some may say that when you write you lose a lot too, and it is harder to convey things such as sarcasm, or that you are fucking around with your reader since everything can seem straightforward and truthful.

If there is one person you can't trust, it is a writer.

But everything I write here is a shoot, brother.

For those unfamiliar with the wrestling term "shoot", mainly because you think wrestling is fake, riddled with homosexual overtones, immature, or just plain dumb, I'll get the meaning out there.

A "shoot" in wrestling is something that is unexpected, unstaged and unchoreographed---something that is not in the script. You'd be breaking "kayfabe" or your character if you shoot.

You shoot, you battle nature, and you break down that precious fourth wall.

But the funny thing about "shoots" is that they can be "worked". It may seem that I am talking to you truthfully, as myself and not behind a persona, but I am still bullshitting you and putting up an act.

Some of the stuff I write in here from here on out can be either real or modified with bullshit---a "shoot" or "worked shoot". I think the fun is in having people figure out what is real. Then again, I risk the stigma of being labeled a liar. But I'm not worried about that.


You really can't trust a writer, but this is a shoot.

Brother.


On another note, here is a video.

It's the smiles that keep us going somtimes, the little giggles and bits of good cheer

Less than two weeks ago I quit my job.

This past Monday I got a new one.

I now work downtown in an office, doing copy work/document preparation for one of the top ten law firms in the country. I don't know a thing about copying, but I got hired anyways. It isn't that hard to tell the truth, but I am saying that because the people I work with are pretty nice and willing to help me out. However, I still feel that I am set up to fail. I did not get an ID card to enter the building until my third day there, while everyone else got one on their first day. If I had been running late on those first two days, who knows what would have happened to me? I don't need people thinking that I am a tardy person, especially during my first week there. Also, my supervisor, who was supposed to show me how to navigate the website where I would find out my schedule, and most importantly show me how to set up my direct deposit, has not done so yet. Luckily, one of my co-workers showed me what website to go to in order to get that done. It was rather easy after browsing for a couple minutes.

It also doesn't help that the person who was also recently hired quit after two days.

But all in all, I like it better than the United Center, because it is a completely different scene. It's less stressful, even though the consequences of screwing up some big lawyer's documents are dire. It's a complete balance between busy work and down time, as bigger jobs have me sitting down waiting for papers to copy and call for me to focus more to keep things in order and print things correctly. I am the youngest person working there, in contrast to being one of the oldest at the United Center. And I don't have to deal with customers face to face anymore either. And I don't have to shave or worry about being completely in uniform. Sure there are uniforms, I get a couple shirts for FREE, but the code is mildly enforced. I just wear my United Center uniform and it's o.k. There are more differences I'm sure, but I don't want to list them all.

I also get paid substantially more.

Finally I have a real job with benefits and insurance (after the probation period).

While I have my weekends back, the 3/3:30 - midnight hours I am not really thrilled with. Actually, it's 3/3:30 to 11pm, as there is usually nothing left for me to do at that time, but I still have to stay until midnight. I'm used to being out and at work during those hours, but I wouldn't mind a 1st shift job. It cuts into my social life (which is non-existent to begin with).

Who knows how long I'm gonna work at this job, I expect that it won't be long.

But I thought that I wouldn't work at the United Center for more than two years, but I ended up working there for nearly six years.

This is the biggest guy from Taiwan I've ever seen. I hope he doesn't kick the crap out of me.

As of now, I am without a job.

I quit.


Almost six years working at the United Center, at the same position, for less than 8.50 an hour, and a year of sitting in a chair for five hours in the bowels of the building only to point people in the direction of the restroom took its toll. And I chose to be there. The United Center and Sox Park has allowed me to realize that there are really nice people out there. It also showed that people can be cunts. Yeah, I know...big deal, tell you something you don't know, that's life, blah, blah, blah.

But during the last two years or so, I felt more and more easily annoyed with the people I see there in general. I was annoyed with the whole sports arena atmosphere. At Sox, I basically worked as a doorman, sealed off in the corner of the building, only coming in contact with a few people, most of them I have come to known over the past couple of years, and they were really nice folk...especially at the end of the season when they gave me tips, which sometimes totaled twice I made in a month. I used to look forward to working at Sox every summer...that is until they started winning. Long story short: more assholes, patience tested, stress rising, almost punched out an undercover cop. I was miserable there, and knew that last year was the last year I would work at Sox.

So when my supervisor at the United Center asked me to go and watch the new restrooms built for the classy restaurant in virtually the basement of the building, I jumped at the chance. I got to sit down, read books (something I hadn't done in a while recreationally), and interact with few people. Not only that, they put in my own flat screen television. I made a lot of acquaintances with the people who work in the area. Things were easy. And I got bored easily. I felt that I should be spending my time better doing something else. But I did not want to work in the crowds again. So I stayed at my spot for about a year.

By the end of last year, with both teams being sorta successful, the same thing happened to me that happened over at Sox, the difference being the autograph whores and their knowledge that the players and coaches of the teams left the building in full view and in shouting distance from the restrooms. I grew annoyed with any person who came looking for the restrooms, and took satisfaction out of sitting and watching people with confused looks struggling to figure out which way to go.

I thought to myself, "I went to college, I should be doing something better than this!"

I then accepted this fact: I'm letting this job turn me into a miserable asshole, and I should quit before I come close to punching anyone else.

Last Saturday, I asked for my resignation. That is, after I worked up the urge to not put it off by telling everyone I knew there I was quitting.

After doing that, the last three days I worked were the best in a long time, because I knew the end was coming.

My last night working was this past Wednesday. I handed my ID and the lanyard that took me three months of asking to get, and went to the uniform room to hang up my work vest, fighting off the urge to loot the place and get a couple of shirts (worth 25 dollars each).

I went to the Dominick's near by, bought a pint of chocolate milk and some cookies, ate them as I walked towards Downtown with no nostalgic sentiments at all.

I also found an 20gb iPod that some guy named Mike used to own. With lots of indie pop for me to delete.



I'll be able to grow a beard at my new job now.

New Beginnings (or some other witty less cliche title)

So here I am, back again typing away in another one of these blogs. I get bored easily when talking about myself, which is a reason why I ended adding posts in my livejournal, and just went on posting youtube links.

So I come back, hopefully with words and not links...well, maybe some links.

So, I will come and put down to paper the changes that has happened to me over the last couple months, including my self-imposed isolation of sorts and quest to grow an epic neckbeard.

Yeah, that'll put asses in the seats.