{"id":214,"date":"2005-09-05T14:27:00","date_gmt":"2005-09-05T19:27:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/?p=214"},"modified":"2005-09-05T14:27:00","modified_gmt":"2005-09-05T19:27:00","slug":"happy-fucking-labor-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/?p=214","title":{"rendered":"Happy Fucking Labor Day&#8230;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >Happy Fucking Labor Day&#8230; <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >I spoke with my father on the phone for about an hour yesterday. My parents are worried about me and rightfully so. If I were to step outside myself and look at how I am reacting to the world around me, I would be worried too. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >Let&#8217;s recap. So what did we talk about on the phone? <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><\/p>\n<ul style=\"font-family: arial;\">\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >There is no reason for me to feel like this.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >I need to enjoy life. I am only 24 and have everything going for me. I apparently, have the world by the balls.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >There are people in much worse situations that myself.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >He knows girls in at least three of his stores that would love to date me (Now, although I know he is not lying, I found this to be absolutely hilarious. There is no way I can believe this without seeing it.).<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >I shouldn&#8217;t find living life to be &#8220;uninteresting&#8221; anymore.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >I shouldn&#8217;t be apathetic about things.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >He was much more of a miserable bastard at 24 than I am at 24.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >I should join a club or something and try to meet some new people.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >I should make it my mantra to say &#8220;from this day forward, things will be different and I will be happy&#8221;.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >All of this I understand completely and agree with in its totality. The logical side of me understands and knows this. My logical side is not the problem. I wish I could kill that one side of me that cannot seem to comprehend this information. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >I simply don&#8217;t understand why I am the way I am. I came from a loving family that always taught me to be proud of myself and who I am&#8230; so what happened? I thought that it was because of the stuff that happened with Sara that was just getting me down, but the last time I was home that pretty much got resolved and laid to rest, so it&#8217;s not that. This has been going on for most of my adult life. My father seems to think that if I moved back to NYC, that this would subside, but highly doubt it. That is an internal problem independent of my physical location. I don&#8217;t know how to resolve this. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >But, I digress. It was really good to talk to him and get his advice on the situation. At one point, he sounded like he was getting mad at me on the phone and I can understand why. If I were talking to me, I would be pissed off too. I simply do not see or comprehend my worth even though I have ten thousand people telling me that I&#8217;m great or whatever. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >I am sitting in Borders right now drinking a delicious Chai Freeze. It would be so bad if it wasn&#8217;t 40 degrees in this joint. I am fucking freezing. I needed to get the fuck out of my apartment. I have been sitting around doing pretty much nothing all weekend. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >Oh and the weekends&#8230; I am starting to not look forward to the weekends&#8230; how&#8217;s that for fucked up? The weekends are starting to feel like a mental prison. I think I spent a few hours yesterday staring at the ceiling&#8230; watching the fan&#8230; watching the wall&#8230; occasionally petting Mallos when he decided that he wanted to come on by. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >The last few weekends I have literally been bored to fucking tears. And the ONLY reason that I am sitting here typing now as opposed to in my apartment is because I was going fucking stir crazy in my apartment. Also, I was hoping that they would have some Christopher Lawrence, but alas. They DO have a Paul Oakenfold double CD, but they want $21 for it. Fuck that, I&#8217;ll download it. I am gonna grab this book though: &#8220;Way of the Peaceful Warrior&#8221;. Seems interesting&#8230; <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >Everyone&#8217;s working today&#8230; another price to pay for having ethnic friends. My only other friend that I feel is worth calling is going to his girlfriend&#8217;s (fianc\u00c3\u00a9 when, Jesse???) family&#8217;s house. I would call Tina, but I am afraid to ask for her number. She&#8217;s a cool chick and all&#8230; just never really seems like she wants to be bothered. I have asked her if she wants to hang out on a few occasions, but she always seems to have something else to do&#8230; oh well&#8230; hello senor rejections, nice to see you again&#8230; story o&#8217; my recent life. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >Stephanie came over last night. She seems to be one of the few people here in Austin that actually gives a flyin&#8217; fuck about whether or not I am about to slit my wrists (I mean that figuratively, NOT LITERALLY). I mean, I am sure that Jose and Rafael care, but they never really ask me how I am doing other than the standard &#8220;Hi, how are ya&#8221;. But she seems to know just from me talking. It&#8217;s uncanny how she can tell my mood on the phone and even through a god damn email. How the FUCK can you tell someone&#8217;s mood through email. I can&#8217;t hide shit from this girl. I digress&#8230; again&#8230; it&#8217;s the trance. So she came over around 10 to play Banjo-Kazooi. Yes&#8230; I can play N64 games on my Xbox&#8230; yes&#8230; I am a geek. So, we killed a 12 pack (almost) and talked about some stuff and I made her some food, then she left at 2am to go chill with some other people. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >So&#8230; just sitting here and looking around, I see a few attractive looking ladies&#8230; all sitting right next to their respective attractive men. That&#8217;s how it seems to be here. All of the fucking attractive girls seem to fall under one of the following categories:<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><\/p>\n<ol style=\"font-family: arial;\">\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >Taken.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >Party girl.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >Uninterested in me.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >Don&#8217;t seem to see me whil<br \/>\ne standing amongst the 20398470983247092 much better looking people than me.<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<li><span style=\";font-size:85%;\" >Don&#8217;t know that I exist (which is acceptable b\/c I put up a nice brick wall whenever I am not in my apartment, well, and sometimes in my apartment too).<\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/>    <\/span><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >I don&#8217;t think I would attract a lady if she fell on me. <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-size:85%;\"><br \/> <\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >Alrighty&#8230; I think I have bitched enough for one god damn day&#8230; although, I will probably bitch some more later. I think I am going to home and lift some weights. I was looking at some older pictures of me back from when I was working out a lot with Gary and god fucking damnit&#8230; what happened&#8230; <\/p>\n<p><\/span><span style=\"font-family: arial;font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;\"  >Plus&#8230; my Chai Freeze is done&#8230; <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Happy Fucking Labor Day&#8230; I spoke with my father on the phone for about an hour yesterday. My parents are worried about me and rightfully so. If I were to step outside myself and look at how I am reacting to the world around me, I would be worried too. Let&#8217;s recap. So what did [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-214","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=214"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=214"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=214"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.familyofgoldsteins.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=214"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}