Recycling 

Job 

Heart and Soul To Your Job 

Do You Have A Job?

Rejected

You know, I have to honestly say, it hurts when you're told, "Sorry, we're not hiring."

I'm applying for jobs again and despite the fact that I'm 25, I still find it a scary experience.

Is it normal for members of the same species to be terrified of one another?

A: "Man, that's pretty pathetic. Just a little something like that is enough to undo you. You've got to build up your resiliency. You've got to thicken your skin."

Dog Eat Dog World

"A" (represents some person) points out something important.
Hardening oneself is a common outlet in our society.

Feelings

Are Feelings and our Job separate?
Why does it feel like we owe our job something?
Is it like our job "feeds" us?
I guess in a way it does...
Does that mean we "surrender" ourselves to our job.

Job: The Monster

"Job" was swallowed by a whale.
Jobs swallow people.
Is that the way it's supposed to be...

Deep Voice

Since I'm applying for Trades jobs I find myself adopting a Deep Voice.
I think it makes a good FIRST IMPRESSION.
It's kind of funny though, because I was one of the kids on the playground who was pushed around and spend more time kicking stones then soccer balls.
I wasn't tough.
I wasn't tough at all.

...yeagh, i get a little sad remembering what it was like, but feeling is painful so I'll just:
Don't Go There Girlfriend.

First Impressions : Don't Screw Up or You're Screwed

Has this particular facet of humanity been around for a long time, or is it a relatively new form of paranoia we've invented for our particular age.

[sadly] How Many Different Labels We Give Fear.

Just Got To GET YOUR FOOT N' THE DOOR

Ah!
The aggressive approach.

A: "It's not aggressive. It's determined."

Sense Of Self-Worth

Does a job give you that?
No, of course not.
You give yourself that.

Confidence

I think that this is the answer.
Obviously.

It's An EXCLUSIVE Club

Getting a job is like getting into an EXCLUSIVE club, it's not exactly a "welcoming" experience.

Cheating

Why does it feel like I'm cheating the employers I'm contacting.
Probably because I'm not as good as I make myself out to be.

See : "Artistic Cover Letters" Blog.

We're told to Embellish our resumes in high school and career orientation programs run by the government.
So supposedly it's ok?
Is it ok though?

B: "If you're some kind of coward maybe."

Kill Them With Kindness

Why does it feel like a steel barb was thrust into my heart when a secretary is nice to me.
A secretary I just talked to said in a kind and thoughtful voice,
"I'll make sure the person in charge of hiring gets a good look at your resume."
Me : "Thank you."
Secretary : "No, thank YOU."AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHY WAS SHE NICE TO ME?
I DON'T DESERVE IT!
...
never mind.

Go Around The End

Conclusion.
Half-Ass Life.
but I'm settling for it.

I FEEL like I "embellish" and "cheat" my way into jobs.

C: "[loudly. drowning out ability with volume] Ehhhhhhh! That's no problem. Once you get into the job 9 times out of 10, it's so easy, that regardless of not having 1/10th of the qualities you bragged about you still do great while standing on your head."
"You worry way too much."

Question:
Does anybody else like the "C" persona as he is depicted by his words above?
I have to honestly say that he does offer a kind of callous reassurance.

Give Your Heart & Soul

I guess, ultimately, giving your Heart & Soul to your job is your own decision...
my "own" decision.
sigh...

D: "Y'know Dave. Ultimately and Finally giving yourself to your work is what leads to genuine satisfaction and peace."

I guess the question is:
Do I Want Peace?

Final Thought:
The World Has Enough Doctors, Lawyers, Teachers, etc. What The World Needs, Are More People With Good Ideas.

P.S : I feel better having written this blog. Like I've gotten something nasty and unpleasant off my chest. I guess that deep down I know what it is I have to do to find genuine joy and satisfaction in what I do for work.
Why don't I do it?
That's a question for another day.

Sex, Blogs, and Recycling

Recycling



Physical Appearance : Sexy Guy



Physical Appearance : Sexy Girl



Sex, Blogs, and Recycling

Why is physical appearance so important?
and
Why do I care about recycling?
Why do We care about recycling?

The Three R's

We all know what the 3 R's are.
My question is: WHY DO WE CARE?

Physical Appearance

I am so pleased everytime I look down at my Forearms.
They are getting so much bigger.
Rock Climbing is a champion in the department of increasing muscle mass (and, sex appeal, I imagine).
For those who read my blog:
I recommend drinking a protein shake (minimum 25 g of protein) 20-30 minutes (max 1 hour) after a muscle-tearing workout.
Metaphor:
Think about a hole in the wall of your house. You want to get it repaired as quickly as possible. You need materials to do so. Protein is that material.

Recycling : The International Time-Zone Calculator

The exchange student who is staying with my family had a calculator.
His immediate reaction to the calculator ceasing to function was to throw it away.
Of course it was.
It is the reaction we have known since childhood.
The only Constant is Change.
I told him not to throw the calculator away.
I would recycle it.

Did you know that recycling plastics saves about 30% of the volume from your household garbage going into the dump.
It does.
Mixed Plastics go down a conveyor belt where they encounter a huge metal rolling pin with spikes the one on the improvised tank of Bruce Campbell in the super-cool movie Army of Darkness.
If those plastics have embedded in their structure, they chip a piece off a piece of the metal teeth on the rolling pin and, unfortunately, the pin is rendered useless.
Why?
Structural Soundness of the pin I guess.
I do understand that precision machinery needs to be exactly maintained or else, danger results.

The calcultor had metal screws.

I did not have the appropiate sized screwdriver.

I went to Wal-Mart and purchased a set of precision screwdrivers for $4.87.

Pondering...
I spent money on something just to recycle something else.
...Why?
WHY DO I CARE?

***

I opened the calculator up.
I took out all the screws.
I discarded the computer chip since it has metal components soldered into the plastic structure of the chip.
I was left with 5 plastic sheets and 16 little metal screws.
Was it worth it?
I don't know.
I know the parts will be recycled now and they won't damage any of the machinery dedicated to saving our planet's resources.

Al Pacino: "[scoffs] Nothing but a romantic."

Me: "[looking inwardly]...yeagh. i guess so..."

Recycling : Egg Cartons

My Mom: "The shelf is full of egg cartons."
"It's getting annoying."
"I can't find things behind them."
"Why do you insist on keeping them?"

WHY?
WHY DO I CARE?

I dropped off 33 egg cartons at a neighbor's house.
She has:
1 pony, about 10 chickens, 6 ducks, 5 cats, 2 dogs, and some kids.

Judgement : PROCRASTINATOR!!!

i admit...it took me a long time to come around and actually bring the cartons over.

The majority are made up of styrofoam, which does not biodegrade, as all petroleum based products do not. (after all the stuff as stayed around as a gift from our ancient cousins the dinosaurs.)

WHY?
WHY DO I CARE?

...man.
i don't know.

Boys With Toys

I got a new device for composting!
It' called a : WING-DING.
It a metal pole with a poke at the end with two metal tongs that act like a screwdriver, screwing up holes for oxygen to enter the compost and provide the bacteria with the necessary element to make their digestion of the organic material possible.
I'd been using a simple pole with a metal prong attached and it permitted to just rake the compost and not actually get inside it to make tunnels for air to travel through.
I like my new WING-DING.
It looks cool.

Physical Appearance

This...facet of human existence constantly comes back to me.

...I'm looking good now.

...I'll post a picture of my bod shortly.
...a bit more training of my abs.

That's exciting: isn't it.

The body.
Sexual attraction.
Hormones rushing.
Synapses firing.
Heart pounding.
The age-old physiological response to the prospect of procreation.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?
WHY DO I CARE?
why do i care so much?

Conclusion : Recycling and Physical Appearances

Are they related?
I guess they are.
My question is: why?

Left Profile Me 

Happy Me 

Pensive Me 

Pain. Rock Climbing, and The Need For Others

From The Day We Are Born...

Pain.
From the day we are born, we are in pain.
What does it mean?
Why?
So much of it and such a NEED to shut it off.

I've spent most of my fully cognitive life (9-25) trying to control pain away.

Purpose of Pain

Too easy a question.
Growth, of course.
But I'm tired of empty Words of Wisdom.
They offer comfort, not satisfaction.
Chicken Soup For The Soul : those books aren't about curing the disease, they mask the symptoms...

Sorry.
This sounds very bitter.
I'm just ... young and confused.

[introspective smile] Bitter

Y'know [small smile] it's funny.
I don't know what a bitter plant tastes like.
I've never been an adventurer.
I've never gone out into the forest and tried to find a bitter plant for anything.
In stories, a bitter plant means healing usually.
I wonder if that's true...

Rock Climbing

5.6 to 5.12.
That's how difficulty of a climb is rated.
I can climb a 5.9 usually with concerted effort.

There is a 5.10 climb that I have struggled with for 2 weeks now.

The Twin-Boobs Climb

Seriously.
That's the climbs name.
Why?
The first two handholds are shaped like a pair of breasts.
It's a bit shocking when you first see it, but then climbing is a sport where you spend a lot of time staring at human bodies while you are ensuring they don't fall off the wall (a lot of fun when it's a cute member of the opposite sex. )

I've been trying to climb it for two weeks.
It is hard.
The handholds are smooth and round without a lot of grip to them and require a great deal of forearm strength.
I couldn't get past the 1/4 mark because of a large round hold which required a two handed grip.

The Need For Others

My body.
I've got to make it look good.
I can't feel worthy of pretty girls without a good body.

The Adaptation Response

To make muscles grow, they have to be pushed.
In weight training this means going to the limit and pushing past it.
Hard?
Very.
How'd I do it?
With help.
My 6th and last set I would usually ask for somebody's help to count my reps.
My muscles would shake, my teeth would clench, I would groan, but the person's steady voice, the encouragement, would push me on.
I had to push.
I had to.
Someone was watching me.
Someone was waiting for me to finish.
Someone was supporting me.

I would push myself two, three times harder than I could alone.
It would always be remarkable.

The Need For Others

Yesterday I climbed.
I did a few tough climbs which made me feel good.
I talked to a cute girl which made me feel good.

I debated, and
debated, and
debated over whether or not to ask for some help.

Finally I did.

I asked a nice fellow if he would belay for me (belay is handling the ropes and ensuring I don't fall).
I warned him though that I wanted a special favor.
I needed help to finish the climb.
I needed encouragement.

Encouragement. Vocal Encouragement.
We Need To Feel Love

The fellow was a little reluctant to be expressive in his encouragment.
Understandably so of course.
But, I was politely insistant.

I climbed.
He helped.
I got to the two-handed, smooth, round hold.
He directed me.

It was hard.

My forearms ached.

I asked two other fellows on the ground for their help too.
Encouraging words.
Supporting words.
"YOU CAN DO IT!"
"YOU'VE GOT IT!"
"NICE ONE!"
"GOOD JOB!"
"IT'S YOURS!"

... i wonder if i deserve their help.
why does a person deserve help?
what does a person need to do to merit : h-e-l-p.
...

I fell off at least five times.

I tried and I fell in the same spot.

I reached the last stage.
I needed to hold with my right hand and make a long reach with my left hand.
My legs strained to keep me upright.
I tried and missed.
I rested.
I tried and missed.
I rested.

The fellows were getting impatient.
Of course they were.
I was taking 5 times longer than normal.

5 Times Longer Than Normal

that's it.
one more shot and i quit.
i'm imposing.
i'm bothering.
i'm a burden.

"Hey guys, I'm going to try one more time. Please do your best to encourage me."

I did it.

The guys did encourage me.

My muscles didn't hurt for a few moments and it was enough.

I came down and gave the fellows my hand in thanks.

Not Enough

Why didn't I hug them?
It wasn't that big a deal.
It was tough, but not that tough, not tough enough to warrant getting emotional.

Life : The Accordion

Progress.
Breathing.
I realize I need others.
Try to get close and pull away.
Try to grab a hold and fall.

Peripheral Vision

[wink] Of course, I had the girls in my peripheral vision the whole time.
Knowing that they might be watching gave me a boost too.
Thinking that they might be watching gave me a boost too.

Conclusion

Life lessons.
Shallow water.
Drop a pebble in a pond.

Artistic Cover Letters

...and the Universe Formed From Random Thought

Happy.
What a strange sensation when it comes.
Afternoon sunlight.
There's afternoon sunlight dancing across my desk.
For a brief moment I don't feel quite as inadequate as I usually do.
I've never taken drugs, but I feel (wait I'm 25 now), I know, that I'm on a temporary high.
Why?
I had a "successful" semi-interview with a prospective employer.
Did I get a job?
No.
So, what did I get out of it then?
The fellow seemed to like me.
What a strange sensation.
Somebody likes me.
...well...
that's not so strange.
My Mom likes me.
My brothers like me.

The Artist's Craft

B: Yeagh, but this fellow isn't family.
This fellow likes me just from what he's seen through my cover letter.
The cover letter.
The cover letter which I crafted.
Ha! Ha!

The Artist's Deceit. The Artist's Mask.

I hid all my faults.
I only highlighted my good points.
I didn't talk about sleeping twelve hours.
I didn't talk about spending whole days watching Star Trek episodes.
I didn't talk about not being a very good son, or a very good big brother, or a very good member of the human race.
I only talked about my good points.
HA! HA! HA!
I have deceived!
glee! glee! glee!
I have veiled truth and called it truth and another human being was deceived.
HEE! HEE! HEE!
HA! HA! HA!
Al Borlan : [deridingly] "That's enough Tim."

What Is Art?

Deceiving others?
Getting away with hiding your feelings?
Pretending everything's ok when it's not and calling it "Artistic".
Madonna: "Art is about screaming who you are in a way that doesn't scare people away."

I Write "Artistic" Cover Letters

I feel down.
Me: Wait five minutes. It'll pass.

Happy

Ultimately,
1. I wrote a good cover letter which I actually do like.
2. I do have a plan for my life, even though I'm a "procrastinator."

Jr. High School Study Guide: "DON'T PROCRASTINATE!"

Me: "GO TO HELL STUDY GUIDE!"

Myself: "I tell ya, this whole being human thing is weird beyond recknonin'."

and,

I: "I totallee agree. I can't wait to go back to being a rock. Now that's the life. Admire the skippin' stones all day."

Girls: Stomach Crunches. Worthiness. The Movie "Twins"

Stream of Conciousness

I went Indoor Climbing today.
I do so three times a week and run three times a week with one rest-day.
I had a good climb.
I climbed with a fellow named Sean for the most of the night.
I talked a lot.
"Listening is an art."
I do listen. I just talk more.
Why?
I enjoy hearing what I have to say and call me egocentric, I think other people find what I have to say interesting too.
Arrogant?
I don't think of myself so, but, I could understand someone else thinking so.
Ramble?
Yes I do, but I prefer to think of it as Stream of Conciousness.

After climbing I did sit-ups.
Why do I excercise?
To look good.
To feel attractive.
I see a pretty girl and even if I don't talk to her I want to feel that I could, that I'm worthy of talking to her.
I wish that I had started excercising diligently earlier. *sigh*
But, that wasn't possible.
I had too much to resolve in my mind.
I needed to reach a certain level of Mental Equilibrium.
I had to develop a a certain level of Emotional Control.

Back to the sit-ups.
I follow Bill Philips: Body for Life program.
It is very good.
I very much like it.
I'm grateful to Bill for a program that is as he would say, "A Complete Fitness Solution."

Back to the sit-ups.
I went up to the second level of the climbing center with its attractive wooden floors, pulled out a yoga mat and started doing crunches.
Girls came up.
I guess at 25 I should say women when the "girls" are close to my age, but, for some reason I have a reluctance to do so.
I wonder why that is?
Fear of aging?
Maybe...

Anyways, the "girls" come up and I started crunching harder.
That simple.
One of the girls I like because she's attractive.
Actually...come to think of it...if it had only been the other two girls who had come up I...still might have crunched harder but my subconcious reason for doing so would have changed to reducing the slight bit of baby fat I have around my waist to sleek slabs of muscle.
As it is, thinking that the cute girl might have been ocassionally glancing in my direction made me crunch harder instinctively.
Well...after all...the reason I work out is to Feel Worthy Of Interacting With Attractive Girls.
I doubt this phenomenon is isolated to me.
I suspect that most of us are like this.
There are a few people who can actually feel in their hearts for real, and love the abstract, untangible "soul" of another person, but, simply put: I'm Not One Of Those People.
When my body looks good, I'll talk with cute girls.
As things stand now, if a cute girl talks to me, obviously she thinks I'm good looking enough to merit talking with.
In Animal Standards she has approved of my presence and I am permitted to talk with her.

Why?
Why do I do this?
Why do I do this to myself?
Perceptions.
Beliefs: founded or not so.
What's Inside Does Count and, feels a whole lot better (I think) when the outside causes the opposite sex to think about sex too.

Conclusion

As Julius said in the movie Twins:

Vincent: "Well, you do like women don't you?"

Julius: "Yes, of course. They're strange, sensitive. They have compassion. I have the highest respect for women."

Vincent: [shocked. speaking in disbelief and amazement] "You're a virgin."

Julius: [uncomfortable] "That's private."

Vincent: [still shocked] "A 35 year old virgin."

When do the romantic notions of the opposite sex fade?

I don't know.

It hasn't happened to me yet.

Play Within A Play

I ran with a "Running Group" for the first time today. And. My belief was correct. Running in a group makes me run faster.
Running in a group makes me concentrate more on running.
Running in a group makes me control my breathing more.
Running in a group makes me ignore the pain in my lungs more.
Running in a group makes me makes me more aware of being careful not to put too distribute pressure more effectively so my ankles, or my hips, or my shoulders don't get sore from too much strain being placed on them. (Why? I don't want to fall behind)

None Of Us Want To Fall Behind.
None Of Us Want To Be Left Behind.

I'm scared of being left behind.
How did I build up the courage to join a "Running Group" then?
I ignore my fear.
I ignore my negative feelings.
I've trained myself over the years to stop pain from manifesting itself too large.
It's my defense technique.
As Dr. Arthur Janov (author of Primal Scream and the creator of Primal Therapy) points out: repression is a survival mechanism. When pain becomes too much and one feels one's survival is threatened the body, the mind, the individual blocks the pain. Endorphins, Hormones, Glands, Neurotransmitters, numerous physiological factors are involved.
I like that.
Physiological factors.
Logic.
I like that.
Feelings hurt.

I run with the "Running Group" because:
A. Body: I want to look good for girls.
B. Group Dynamic: The instinctive push to run or risk being left behind and dying (not held at surface concious I can assure you, but buried deep, where I am aware of the truth of the feeling but not letting it interfere in my immediate present)
C. Girls: There's the chance to meet girls.
D. Friends: Maybe. I'll meet someone I like to spend time with. Guy or Girl. A real friend. Like in the stories. I don't know what that's like. I really don't.

Play Within A Play

Steel.
17 years old.
Steel was a runner in my Grade 12 Spanish class.
Nice guy.
Not as good looking as me, which made me like him even more (there were cute girls in class which I, as a competing male, always had in view in my peripheral vision).
Steel ran well.
I ran too.
Not as well.
The girls liked Steel.
They admired how well he ran.
I admired him too.
It's tough to run fast and far.
He was on another level from me.
My jealousy choked me.
I just watched for the year.
Watched and knew that he was popular, part of a social class, which I, was out of.

But.
The thought came to me.
Steel in Europe.
Traveling with his university track team.
Intl' competition.
No way he's as fast as Intl' runners.
Canadians just aren't as a rule.
There he won't be the best.
There he will have to change his behavior, his stance, his projection of himself to others.
Will the girls still like him?
If I know Steel, he would probably have stuck with the Canadian girls who would have come to the meet too.
Isolated.
They would have probably just hung out with each other.
Hah.
I wouldn't have.
I feel comfortable around new people.
I can detach myself hierarchy.
Why?
Because I've never felt in one before.
Steel would have found himself in a "Hierarchy within a Hierarchy."

I'm reminded of what Selena's father said to her in the movie Selena:

"I'm proud of you. The boundaries that exist against a Mexican singer succeeding in America are almost impossible to overcome. But maybe, maybe for you, they don't exist. You're special Selena."

It's easy to overcome boundaries when for you they don't exist.

Well...
Regardless.
I say this to my old classmate Steel, "Steel my friend, you are a part of my memories, and I'm grateful for that."

My First Entry

This was my first entry.
Writing for a blog community is like running with a running group. One performs better when one knows others are there.