What EVER

Too serious, too dramatic, too everything.
Too much.

Isn't that a song?
Yeah, it's a song.

One of the things I read that my college is trying to cultivate is a powerful critical analysis, a somber pragmatic rationale for tackling today's issues, whether that be which flavor of American Spirits to buy or how to cut a hole in a Urban Outfitters jacket but make it look like it was an accident because you were drunk.

I already critically analyzed everything. That's how I got to college, and likely, that's how I'll be sent out. Anyway, I prefer making jokes than contemplating the states of things. Thoreau said "Pay attention not to the Times, but to the eternities."
Isn't that cool? He was so cool.

I really like when old people wink after they crack a joke. It's a highlight of every day.

I am tired to looking at myself in the mirror and saying "I didn't do the required reading." I can barely bring myself to look at my face. I evade my disappointing glare.
No, that's not true. That's ridiculous.

I saw "Fair Game" on Black Friday with my aunt. The movie was about the Valerie Plame fiasco. I was surprised to find that no one had any idea what that was after I told them I saw it.
I was also surprised to find that it was not a Vaudeville-style comedy.

The state of things today...

I heard a story before I went back to school about why my dad was actually born in Chicago. My grandma always told me it was because Detroit was an embarrassment of a birth place, even in 1946, but my aunt clarified that story with facts about the German practitioner that prescribed heart medication to my grandma, despite an absence of a heart condition. It turned out he was anti-Semetic.

Yet Another example of a story without a punchline.

I started Christmas shopping and I kept in mind the buy what you would want to receive mantra. I strictly followed it, actually. I hope everyone likes size 31 jeans and candy.

You know what my biggest problem with studying the political implications of Apartheid is?
It's so Boering.

Have a great night.

For Christmas, I am only going to speak to my nephew in Spanish

Title unrelated.

Candid:
I started dating a girl about two years ago. Started.
The process of dating is rough when you care about everyone and their feelings,
especially and most importantly yourself.
Started.

It was on and off, up and down, and other terrible things relationships shouldn't be,
but always in my control.
I've said that line at least a hundred times and it has only recently become digestible, understandable.

I am selfish and I am an asshole. I've been working on that for years, and I will continue working on it.

I kept coming back, I keep coming back. I've always come back to the situation and asked for chances, opportunities and she's always given them, the sap.

We started dating again, in June, and after a couple months of not being sure where we are, I have committed myself to the situation in ways that I never have before. Facebook. My status has changed. It was purposeful; it is purposeful. I am trying to right my wrongs, and whatever...

I face the same doubts, probably once a week about whether I should be in a relationship or not, the same doubts that have stymied my every move for the past couple years, the doubts that established my ignorant swinging bachelor life at the end of high school.
We do not act in a vacuum.

I'm sure some of my friends call me Doubting Thomas when I'm not around. I'm sure they've said it and I wasn't listening.

This morning, I thought about the relationship and wondered if I could handle it, should I handle it? What's the point? It can't be that good. Fewer and further between are these doubts, but omnipresent, somewhere, id, superego, loudly I exclaim that I have these doubts,
always have,

but,

I do not act in a vacuum.
and I may or may not be in love with this girl.

Mostly the latter.

Oh and it's a girl, by the way. I figured out I wasn't gay.

They are... difficult issues

Today was the longest day of the year by my count. It still hasn't ended.

Two dramatic happenings:

I was at work at the theater for something like ten hours today, on and off. I have a calm, often apologetic demeanor with patrons. I want them to know that they are in control, while I tell them what they can and cannot do.
Today, I learned to be assertive
(Not aggressive, Not Aggressive)

The show had started, we held the start for five, ten minutes for late comers and then come rushing up two patrons, a married couple, looking determined.
We scan their tickets and direct them towards the monitor with a moving picture of the happenings on stage. The wife comes to me and complains that the picture is not adequate.
"You can't see anything!"
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
"We'll go into the theater and stand in the back." She said this so many times. ALL BROADWAY HOUSES do this. ALL of them. So why don't you? Where does it say on my ticket that I can't stand in the back?

She said all of that so many times.

She rushed while the show is in progress to an unmarked exit door, "We'll just go in here" she says, declaring I can't control her actions, she's an adult and she will be treated accordingly.

It's actually building policy that we only late seat at specific times agreed upon by our staff and the production staff. Only. It is my job to make this clear and make it happen. I'm rather calm in times like these.
She was not having it.

"I'm sorry, but that door is locked."
"What do you mean it's locked?"

She gave me devil eyes.
"It's company policy that...

And that's when my manager stepped into the situation, seeing that the woman was going to give me a mouthful. My manager had had a long, tiring day and she was not willing to concede anything to anyone so when the patron exclaimed that the monitor was not adequate, my manager smiled. "It's company policy..."

And that's when the battle of wills began.

More and more and more and
Yelling and WHO do you think you are and JUST LOOK AT YOU and You're being patronizing and all of it escalated.

You'll have to wait for the break.
Where does it say that? That's not how Broadway works.

And then the police were called and there were tears shed by all parties.

The patron yelled at my manager and accused her of not being properly educated all the way through the late seating break.How blind she was.

It was overreaction and ego. There is no winner in a battles of wills. There are only the unsatisfied and the foolish.

I feel guilty for not quelling this.

Things not need escalate