Hello, all you crazy cats and dogs and goats and shaz.
I don't really have very much to say, but I feel like I should say something in hopes that my brain can finally find something to say while on a thought train.
So here we go. For starters, I picked up $28 in a recent tournament. Not much, sure, but it felt like a pretty nice accomplishment since I was shortstacked pretty much the entire tournament up until there were 30 or so players left.
I feel fatigued, though. It's quite distressing. Like various unnamed others, I'm starting to feel the strain of socializing, even if it's all quite pleasant. Perhaps it has something to do with my little losing streak in poker with Eric, John, Travis, and company. Perhaps it's because I have not allowed myself sufficient recovery time. I do know that nothing quite feels right, but much of that I can attribute (with reasonable certainty) to my awkward sleeping schedule and my awkward showering schedule. Hey, you may laugh, but I'm serious. Showering has become so strange to me now because of the awkward sleeping, and as a result it just doesn't happen as often. Hey, you may vomit, but it's the truth and it needs to be reported. Perhaps if I made an effort to shower even when it simply feels wrong, I might actually feel better during the day and such. Hey, you may be closing the browser window and vowing never to return to this disgusting blog again, and if you do, then I smack you, you squeamish bitch. Welcome to Cantay's summer!
Oh--and here's something that sucks. I pretty much just told the poker dudes in passing (because I don't like to mention it too much) but I got turned down for that damn job-thing at Sylvan. It was the most ridiculously stupid thing. Ever. The series of events went something like this: 5/18, I submit my resume to them, and they promise that they will call; 5/24, I call them because they haven't called, they schedule a telephone interview the next day; 5/25, the telephone interview takes place, I pretty much just read my resume, and I'm told I'll get another call by the center director very soon; 5/31, I call them again because they haven't called back, they promise to call the next morning; 6/1, I wake up in the morning and wait for the call--it never comes; 6/2, the center director calls me and informs me, after I reiterate that I need minimal refreshing to teach this stuff, that they need someone who "can start right away."
Naturally, I'm just a little pissed off. I mean, I did submit my resume two weeks before I was told I wasn't hired. If the reason was that they needed someone quickly, it would have been advisable for them to have told me that if I wanted a shot at the job that I should acclimate myself to the materials. If the reason was that they really wanted someone with a teaching certificate (though they made it clear that college students were encouraged to apply), then they ought to have said that. And no matter what their reason was, the bastards should have contacted me in a more timely manner so I wouldn't be hawkishly guarding the phone so much.
Now I am left to search for a job that I will in all probability hate. Eric says that I ought to do some sort of blue-collar work, and I understand his point, but I must blatantly say fuck no. If the blue-collar involved something that wasn't stocking items or preparing food, then I probably wouldn't mind. But what other jobs are there? I don't even know if those jobs exist!
As you can see, I'm quite frustrated. I think I should just screw the idea of getting a job and do the poker thing for profit. Heh. It would be a nice idea, at least. If only I could establish a definitive positive trend, which I cannot, then maybe the idea would be feasible. But even then, the most important part of my getting a job (which is also the most deplorable part), filling my resume, is not accomplished via poker.
Fucking grr.
Hmm... well, looking up it does indeed appear that my brain found something to write about. That's the most constructive thing it's done today.
Oh, and just so you all know, I'm planning to give Sylvan a call tomorrow. Let them know that I hate their guts. It doesn't accomplish anything, really--except the extremely important task of making me feel better. So do me a favor and discourage other people from using them. Because you love me so much. Bitches.
And that's all I have today. Brush your teeth with tetracycline and clean your derrier with lint. Hasta la byebye.
I don't really have very much to say, but I feel like I should say something in hopes that my brain can finally find something to say while on a thought train.
So here we go. For starters, I picked up $28 in a recent tournament. Not much, sure, but it felt like a pretty nice accomplishment since I was shortstacked pretty much the entire tournament up until there were 30 or so players left.
I feel fatigued, though. It's quite distressing. Like various unnamed others, I'm starting to feel the strain of socializing, even if it's all quite pleasant. Perhaps it has something to do with my little losing streak in poker with Eric, John, Travis, and company. Perhaps it's because I have not allowed myself sufficient recovery time. I do know that nothing quite feels right, but much of that I can attribute (with reasonable certainty) to my awkward sleeping schedule and my awkward showering schedule. Hey, you may laugh, but I'm serious. Showering has become so strange to me now because of the awkward sleeping, and as a result it just doesn't happen as often. Hey, you may vomit, but it's the truth and it needs to be reported. Perhaps if I made an effort to shower even when it simply feels wrong, I might actually feel better during the day and such. Hey, you may be closing the browser window and vowing never to return to this disgusting blog again, and if you do, then I smack you, you squeamish bitch. Welcome to Cantay's summer!
Oh--and here's something that sucks. I pretty much just told the poker dudes in passing (because I don't like to mention it too much) but I got turned down for that damn job-thing at Sylvan. It was the most ridiculously stupid thing. Ever. The series of events went something like this: 5/18, I submit my resume to them, and they promise that they will call; 5/24, I call them because they haven't called, they schedule a telephone interview the next day; 5/25, the telephone interview takes place, I pretty much just read my resume, and I'm told I'll get another call by the center director very soon; 5/31, I call them again because they haven't called back, they promise to call the next morning; 6/1, I wake up in the morning and wait for the call--it never comes; 6/2, the center director calls me and informs me, after I reiterate that I need minimal refreshing to teach this stuff, that they need someone who "can start right away."
Naturally, I'm just a little pissed off. I mean, I did submit my resume two weeks before I was told I wasn't hired. If the reason was that they needed someone quickly, it would have been advisable for them to have told me that if I wanted a shot at the job that I should acclimate myself to the materials. If the reason was that they really wanted someone with a teaching certificate (though they made it clear that college students were encouraged to apply), then they ought to have said that. And no matter what their reason was, the bastards should have contacted me in a more timely manner so I wouldn't be hawkishly guarding the phone so much.
Now I am left to search for a job that I will in all probability hate. Eric says that I ought to do some sort of blue-collar work, and I understand his point, but I must blatantly say fuck no. If the blue-collar involved something that wasn't stocking items or preparing food, then I probably wouldn't mind. But what other jobs are there? I don't even know if those jobs exist!
As you can see, I'm quite frustrated. I think I should just screw the idea of getting a job and do the poker thing for profit. Heh. It would be a nice idea, at least. If only I could establish a definitive positive trend, which I cannot, then maybe the idea would be feasible. But even then, the most important part of my getting a job (which is also the most deplorable part), filling my resume, is not accomplished via poker.
Fucking grr.
Hmm... well, looking up it does indeed appear that my brain found something to write about. That's the most constructive thing it's done today.
Oh, and just so you all know, I'm planning to give Sylvan a call tomorrow. Let them know that I hate their guts. It doesn't accomplish anything, really--except the extremely important task of making me feel better. So do me a favor and discourage other people from using them. Because you love me so much. Bitches.
And that's all I have today. Brush your teeth with tetracycline and clean your derrier with lint. Hasta la byebye.
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