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beandipandchiggersalsa
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Name: Jameson
Country: United States
Birthday: 5/30/1987
Gender: Male
Interests: Computers, music, drums, guitar, bass, and much much more!
Expertise: Who really knows? I like to cook.
Occupation: Food Service
Industry: Food Service
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/20/2004
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| Well, Crap
I called the chef back, and he basically said that he didn't have any room for me. No other job ops have been opening up, either. Frustration...
Also, I've now been a part of Xanga for the same number of days as the date of the Revolutionary War.
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| An Ecksbawks I haz one. Now I'm just hoping to get a copy of Beatles Rock Band for Christmas. Unfortunately, for the time being, my 360 gets to sit, unplayed. I have no games, you see. That was the one real boon for the Wii. In addition to being cheap, it came with a game, so it could be played straight out of the box. Whatever, I'm patient. I did rent The Orange Box, just to see if the system works, though. Fun games.
In other news, my hours are getting cut at work again. This is mostly due to the fact that we're now in the slow season for country clubs. That and the fact that the club isn't making any money and needs to save where it can. Solution? Make the salaried guys work more and the hourlies work less. Hopefully, a second job will become available at another local restaurant. I've already talked to the head chef there - he graduated from the same culinary school I want to attend. He seems fairly interested in having me there, since I want to learn as much as I can before attending school.
The good thing about work, though, is that my boss finds me a trustworthy employee. He flat out said to me that he can trust me to do the stuff I need to do to open the club, and that's why I get scheduled for more hours than the other morning guy. Also, he showed me how to clean a beef tenderloin (the most expensive piece of meat on a cow - it's where filet mignons come from); so that's pretty freakin' sweet.
Words...words, I want to write them, but none come.
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| By Far, the Most Depressing Thing I've Seen
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| Scratching the Itch
I feel compelled to write. To a portion of my friends, this may not seem out of place. But I do not regularly receive the inclination to express my thoughts in written form. The trouble with this particular prodding is that I have nothing about which to write. When I logged on to my xanga account the other day, I noticed my latest entry about Zac, and first thought to write something to move that macabre series down the page so as to not be reminded of that sad episode. I mulled this over for a bit and came to the realization that to do so would sully Zac's memory. To choose to move an entry that makes me sad and uncomfortable just so I wouldn't have to look at it is a terrible reason. Granted, I realize that with this post and those to follow, Zac's posts will eventually move off the page and be shuffled into the great Internet data attic; but the reasoning behind my first thought to write is simply selfish.
I suppose it's only normal to want to remove that which makes us uncomfortable, but to what end? What is the benefit in constant comfort? To play devil's advocate, what is the benefit in being uncomfortable? On the one hand, an unpleasant memory forces me to confront my own mortality and that of those I love. On the other, what does that gain me? I mean, yes, we all die. It's as close to a 100% confidence interval as one can get. But what does acknowledging that fact do? Quite honestly, it doesn't really bother me that Zac died; rather, it was the manner in which he died. Don't misunderstand me, I am sad that Zac's gone and think that the world has been deprived of a good human being; but whether he died a few weeks ago or seventy years from now, he still would have died. That fact doesn't bother me, it's simply the manner of his death that disturbs me.
I guess the trite, take-home lesson is to "cherish every day as though it were your last". To be perfectly frank, is it even remotely practical to live this way? Do any of us live or know someone who lives this way? I think it would seem rather tiring. It brings to mind that person in the office who's perpetually cheery and wants to make sure that everyone knows it (I'm looking at you, Female-Temp from Office Space). I appreciate my wife, my job (most days), and my apartment, but some days just suck! Some days, I just wish that I had crawled back in bed and skipped a day. I do not actively appreciate those days. I suppose, in some way, I do appreciate them; if only to make the mediocre days seem better by comparison. But I do not take the time out of every day, even the crappy ones, to find something that I cherished about it. Too much work for too little benefit.
So, from that first day to this, my urge to write has remained; but I am still left without cause. I force myself to write to relieve that urge. So, to those that read this, I apologize for the stream of consciousness, but it had to be done.
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| Erratum
Much to my dismay, there was a note taped to the body, and also left in his room. Apparently it was intentional.
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