Habit, or Rut?

at the risk of establishing a pattern, i am posting after another job interview. i am at the same cafe as i was for the first post. i am almost in the exact same seat. of course, my lovely computer Grindel is providing my e-awesome. and i am over-caffeinated (duh).

its moving towards rush hour in austin. i should leave in not too long, but i wanted to what, deify? no, record! i wanted to record the day's events while i'm still inert.

i wore nice clothes. this means i wore closed toed, non-sneaker shoes. with dress socks. i wore a nice button down shirt, and i even wore a jacket. but don't worry, in keeping with the idea of truth in advertising, i didn't tuck the shirt in. yes, it was visible below my jacket. and it was open at the neck, exposing a hint of my groovy, manly chest hair. or something. god forbid people think i'm a complete and utter priss or something. i like to look a little rough around the edges.

besides, its fun to misuse an oscar de la renta sport coat. try it sometime. you'll feel like a fashion model, or something.

the woman who interviewed me, olga, was super nice. she was a sweetheart. she's in charge of the physics department's office, and has twenty-seven people applying for a position as an assistant in the office. i am one of those people, and i'm really freaked out. because i'd really like this job. olga tries to keep a happy, well-adjusted office going, with nice people, a friendly demeanor, and hella productivity. she's nice, smart, reasonable, and i so, SO want this job. and i now am frightened (thanks to my mother) that my untucked shirt will make her not consider me. and thanks to me, i'm frightened that my own (percieved as) idiotic answers to her questions will make her not consider me.

i'm afraid i looked and sounded desperate.

i'm afraid i came across as a floundering, underachieving young adult.

i'm afraid i didn't point out my strengths.

i'm afraid i flagrantly displayed my weaknesses.

i'm afraid i boned it.

sigh... i probably didn't do any of those things. and i did elicit a few laughs, so i think i appeared charming and intelligent. if i appeared well-suited to the job, word. we'll just have to see. but its nice to know that there are work environments out there that i would like to be a part of.

i need to send her a thank you letter. i'm not sure that should be done by snail mail, or by e-mail. i'll ask people who know tonight. in the meantime, i'll blog about my oh so interesting life, and debate another cup of coffee. (i should stop. for serious.)

in other news, the little hipster-mo running the cafe is playing an eighties station on the sound system. irritating... its so fun to stereotype my own people... it makes me feel like a good person.

OH! you know what's really fun! watching children in public and deciding which of them are going to grow up to be gay. that shit is fun! just like, don't tell their parents. "hey, lady, i just wanted to warn you that there's an eighty percent chance that your son is gonna be a fag. just wanted to let you know." sigh... i'm having an issue with austin. pull up a chair. i'd like to tell you about it.

i feel as though austin is one of those places that puts a lot of value on image. i mean, people are inherently shallow, but there are certain places where image just truly trumps all else. you can't just be a guitar player, for example. you have to dress the part, have the tatts and piercings, the shaggy hair and the air of slight disinterest. this is a good example, because austin's image comes in part from the huge music scene, and the fledgling film industry, i'm sure. there are hippies so crunchy you would chip a tooth on them. there are indie kids in jeans ghandi couldn't squeeze himself into. there are rockers, mcs, hangers on, and all manner of college prep.

what does this mean to me, on a personal level?

it makes me feel like i'm perpetually underdressed. and it makes me feel lost. and one level up from there, it makes me pissed off that i'm so affected by physical appearances.

i don't tend to care too much what i wear. or at least, that used to be the case. but somewhere along the line, it became an issue. i've always like quality clothing, and i do know how to dress, but most of the time, i try to project the image (note the hypocrisy inherent in the blogger...) that i really don't care how i look. i shop by the care directions. if something needs dry-cleaning or ironing, its going back on the rack. but in austin, my crummy wardrobe is starting to bug me. its making me feel like there's a perpetual party going on that i refuse to take part in. and all i'd have to do is try and say SOMETHING with my style and dress. something other than, "blow me."

hence the lost feeling. i feel like my public persona has been negated. and so i feel invisible. and granted, i feel invisible in life right now, so this is just an exacerbation of a pre-existing condition. but its still real. i just don't feel cool enough for austin. i feel like unless i drastically change the way i present myself, the town will never acknowledge me. and the worst part is, that i actually care about this crap. i'm being adversely effected by this social crap. and that, is so so so so sad to me... because i really don't want to care. and now i do.

note, that this is all a part of my current struggle to find direction and meaning in my life. if i felt like i had something more meaningful going for me than how i look, i would find it much easier to wear my clothing and be all right. but i'm lost and aimless, and so i keep feeling on the outs.

blah blah blah lonely. grrr... i know my feelings are valid, and i suppose there's nothing wrong with posting them onlline, but it does make me feel like every other blogger that ever existed. my situation is temporary, and i'll be fine. such hassles are common to everyone, or so i believe.

there's an underlying struggle going on here. several, really. i think they're all on display in every one of my entries so far. theoretically, they are what help my blog be "interesting" and "worth reading."

the jury is out on that one, but i always get pissed off when i start evaluating what i'm writing. too many levels spoil the simile.

and i'm going to start my drive home so i can go to the gym and sweat the day out of me.

wtf

i can't sleep, so i suppose i could like, write some stuff here... what i should be writing is something creative that might be publishable. but i don't think i'm doing that right now.

pretty sure i'm not.

i had a job interview this last wednesday. it was a chance to relearn how to set phasers on "charm." it was sort of a clusterfuck of an interview. one guy (whose shirt, oddly enough, was inside-out. i mentioned this on the way out.) came to get me and lead me through the maze of cubicles to the "interview room," which contained an additional two people. WHOOP! WHOOP! i'm truly impressed i didn't sweat like a thing that is really prone to sweating. and i am a thing that's really prone to sweating; an unfortunate side effect of using herbal hippie deoderant. but no aluminum, so less chance of alzheimers. woohoo!

and for god's sake, its HIPPIES, not HIPPYS, you idiots! you know who you are. correct yourselves immediately and beg for forgiveness.

so i made inside-out man and his cohorts laugh, and i think i gave thoughtful and intelligent answers to the questions they asked. i have no intention of actually taking the job, should they offer it to me. it entails using high-volume scanners in a windowless room for eight hours a day. in my spare time, i act as a courier to various banks and financial institutions. they had to drag out the "how do you do with repetetive tasks?" question. i actually do all right with them, but this job sounds like a migraine. i think i'll skip. but at least i got to make some well-meaning strangers laugh a bit; one of the many services i provide.

i also pet kitties until they purr.

i'm not sure how to broach a few other subjects right now, but i'll have to eventually. i have to insurance for therapy, so this is my only outlet. i'm just so paranoid about old acquaintances finding/stalking me. again. its happened, and its scary, and you might ask why, if i'm afraid of being identified and found, i have a picture of myself up in my profile.

good question!

secrecy and anonymity really don't come naturally to me. i feel the need to desperately throw myself at the world in order to elicit the positive critical and personal response i crave so very much. at the same time, i value my privacy more than i could possibly put in words. i'll reveal, if i think its safe or in my interest, but only on my terms, and if you drag me out of myself, i'll resent you forever, and harbor interesting revenge fantasies. what i think deserves privacy and what i think is fair game depend on my own skewed and unique rules. so you might not understand, but you don't have to.

the point, or rather the goal, is to retain my sense of safety and comfort.

and anyway, i can hopefully figure out how to properly deal with anyone who, unfortunately, figures it out. i'm apparently a "grown-up," or some shit. i can "engineer solutions" and "synergystically think outside the box." and i guess i can also buy a gun and figure out how to use it with a fair degree of accuracy. i spent my childhood playing videogames and typing in chat boxes. its like i've been practicing for fire-arms my whole life. and i'm no slouch when it comes to stalking myself. (go ahead and ask any of the many people with restraining orders against me. i promise, they'll agree my techniques are "well honed" and "effective," if memory serves...)

i wish i were that cool. you know, cool enough to track people down and commit murder... cuz that's like, the measurement of cool, right? the chicks dig it, eh? its so too early for a virginia tech joke, so i'm glad i don't have one. suffice it to say, i do not own guns, never want to own guns, and would probably shy away from committing murder. mostly, i'm... i'm like a marshmallow rather than a knife. and it makes me very sad.

i'm going to go to sleep now, but i would like to make a final observation: the pleasure of listening to a band called "Girlyman" is squared when that band is really quite good. the name alone could be enough, but they also kick ass. so check them out.

Well...

i suppose i should start blogging, since that seems to be my job...

that means we have to have introductions. i LIKE introductions! they're the comfortable interval during which you get to know whatever side of themselves a stranger decides to present.

in other words, they're relationships before reality kicks in.

so, my name is Josh, i enjoy sitting inert in coffee shops, overdosing on caffeine and trying to be productive. i don't like using capital letters online, since they just get in the way most of the time. i just don't do it, all right? its one of my many little... whatevers.

all right. so i like coffee, i LOVE diet coke. i have insulin dependent diabetes, which i suppose is important information. at this point, i forget to tell people, and sometimes years can pass before i say anything about it to someone. err... i'm effortlessly charming. i am also devestatingly intelligent, when i'm not acting like a twit. i like acting like a twit. its a form of relaxation for me. and its cheaper than actual vacations.

i am tallish. since my dad is six four, tall is very relative in my family. i'm about six two. i have the strange ability to look like i weigh much less than i actually do. however, since i'm currently suffering from what my psychiatrist calls "MDD," or Major Depressive Disorder, i'm trying to get back into working out six or seven days a week. because oddly enough, physical activity really does help keep you stable and functional.

everything about me is brown. my teeth are a coffee and nicotine-stained tan. (i am constantly fighting to quit cigarettes for good. don't tell my mom.) my skin is a healthy brown that makes people think i am something other than "white jew." i tend to get hispanic a lot. once, south asian. middle eastern is a common misperception as well. my face is bony. by which i mean i have a pronounced brow ridge and a high, thin, angular nose with a bump on it. my cheek bones are also set high and wide. my lips are overly florid. my eye-brows and lashes are unmistakably THERE, and my lashes are curly rather than cow-straight. this seems to matter to some people.

i realize that you can look at a picture of me, which makes all this description rather moot, really. but i have to start somewhere, so i'll just keep going, thank you very much. i might as well make a note of the fact now, rather than later, that while i appreciate your (assumed) readership, i don't actually write "for you." i write for me, and if you happen to enjoy it, awesome. tell your friends. buy the t-shirt. go see the movie. (in theaters this christmas!)

i use a mac, and every day, it gets harder to deal with pcs. don't want to jump on that train, just saying. i like things (including people) to have substance. i like layers of meaning, the space for multiple interpretations. i like complexity and contradictions. this being said, i can be swayed by very pretty things lacking all the preceding good stuff. but it will never last. also, i am a horrible elitist. my own low self-esteem aside, i am hopelessly judgemental, overly critical, and am not above using other people for my own amusement. but to my credit, i usually feel bad after doing so.

i'm also long-winded.

so here's the thing. by way of this introduction, hopefully you've learned a few things about me. mainly, that i... i actually have no idea how to finish this sentence. i just zoned out for a few minutes staring into the middle distance and letting my mind go blank. which was fun, i have to admit.

all right. i need to go do something else now. this entry is effectively over. but its been fun making your acquaintance.

go read something informative, and brush your teeth before you go to bed.