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03/27/2006: "Another day in the life of a guy who just can't catch a break"
Today began just as every other. I awoke kinda late, and hurriedly prepared my talk. I was brilliant, as always, plumbing into the depths of Veblen's theory of social evolutionism (not to be confused with "social Darwinism," that's something completely different). I received an unexpected call on my phone while I was in class, but I'll get to that.
I had a good chat with Roger about the market and what I need to do to compete. And, I went home to write.
Also: I got my tax refund back today, which was less than I had expected. I called the IRS, and after waiting on hold for a very long time, I finally spoke to a representative to get an answer as to why my refund was in error. As politely as he could, asked me to look at line whatever, and then another line whatever. Then he asked me to subtract them. Needless to say, having an IRS agent correct your math like a third-grade teacher is embarassing, to say the least. And I was a whiz at physics at one point, but now I can't even get the math right on a simple 1040A?
After a brief trip to get the car registered in my name (and my name alone), I got an email from a girl who I went out with last week. Apparently she googled me (as the saying goes) and of course, the first hit for my name is this site, not my academic site. She read all the things about the breakup and decided she didn't want to take a chance on me. An email explaining that this is a literary experiment, not a day-to-day chronicle received no response (yet). The sad part is that she was together, responsible, insightful, witty, pleasant and childless: all the things I'm looking for in a woman. Not just a girl at the bar, mind you: a woman. But I guess the illusion is more plausible than the reality? Long story short: Thena is still making my life miserable. Just in her absence now, not only by her presence.
To make matters worse, I'm over her. In my most Sartrean of moments, I spent all weekend mentally moving past her. I even sent her a goodbye email and everything. I feel I'm ready to find the right person, but alas . . .
I wonder what good degrees and accomplishments are good for if they don't speak in your favor? Needless to say, my online persona has now becoming a liability. Shortly after reading the email, I raced to remove all the meta-tags that included any variation of my name, such that I would not have future recurrences of this upsetting incident. So for my lazy readers who merely type in my name to find this site, you may need to actually use the URL once the spiders do their thing.Hell, this experience is actually making me think about tearing this site down.
A little history for those newcomers, I began this little thing in 1996, when my HTML skillz had not yet been honed. I was "blogging" before there was a name for it. Back then it was called "All that's fit to shit," which for you in the know, is a pun on the motto of the New York Times "All that's fit to print." (I thought it was very witty when I was 18.) It was a frames based layout, and I hand coded every entry. Greymatter makes life easier, but the intent has always been the same: a little catharsis, in a semi-public forum in my little corner of the information super-highway, from which to pontificate and wax philosophical. Screaming at the nothingness like a modern day Oedipus, minus the eye-gouging. This site gone through many incarnations (always at the same web address) and I was thinking about version 4.0 for launch this summer, which would involve getting a domain and lightening up the title, as well as the look and feel. I've even got a good Wittgenstein quote for the domain--but I haven't registered it yet, so I'm not posting it. But now I'm seriously considering shutting down what amounts to one of the longest running non-porn sites on the internet. But, I guess all must eventually come to and end; even cocktailsandpain, which is in many ways developed how I think about this site and its function.
I dunno: May be I'm taking this hard, as I do not deal well with rejection. Maybe I'm just angry and frustrated at all the things that have happened today. Maybe the girl from last week is right, and I'm not ready to date. The only thing certain is that in lieu of curling up with a girl tonight, I'm curling up with a bottle.
Cheers to all and good night.