bitterdiva

End of the line

You start out on a journey. You have a general path and set of directions but you don't know the conditions of the roads. Sometimes they're smooth and others they are turbulent.

It's during these turbulent stretches where you seek an alternate path, trying to veer back onto smoother roads. Upon further investigation you discover that your directions are completely different than your companion's. You stop, look around and breathe.

This is the scariest part of your journey, the realization that you are now separated. You contemplate your directions and try to fathom how everything changed. How you got lost. How you became separated.

This isn't how it was supposed to be. Both sets of directions were supposed to lead to the same place. However, a GPS and a map never truly coincide. Sometimes you follow one, take the turn and end up in a lake. You are now at the end of the line.

***

I have been told that I am horrible with directions. I recognize this. I usually wander aimlessly until I find where I am going. Up until three years ago, I always had someone helping me find my way. Until we both got lost.

I am surprised that the current economic state of the country has more of an impact on my directions than I do. Right now, I'm holding the course. I would like to change it, but the turbulence would be just too great a risk on this not so smooth vessel.

No prayers | 10:27 PM

Et tu wit-tay

Online dating is difficult. Like they say at my college, the odds are good but the goods are odd. How does one craft a personal ad that directly markets yourself in the manner of which you want to be perceived?

I'm a minion of pop culture and as such I make references to things that bring me joy. If I'm going to throw out a line to see what catches, I sure as hell am going to make it a subtle undertone. If you get it, then we'll get off great together, right? That's the theory anyway.

So I craft an ad. An ad the likes of which are an homage to Army of Darkness. The life parallels are uncanny. Except for that time-traveling, undead killing with a boomstick part. Perhaps in my script.

I reread my ad. I laughed my ass off. I thought, how did I craft this epic piece of online dating awesomeness? How epic can it be that no one in the area responds to it? I know I'm not that pathetic. Wait, scrap that. I know that I'm not pathetic. Better. Yes!

And so, the questions arise how is the love life? Life? If my love life was truly alive it would actually be one of those deadites that need to be shot with a boomstick.

Perhaps I should focus not on Army of Darkness but on Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Then I could get close to the object of my desire, the elusive Mr. Darcy.

No prayers | 10:20 PM

Autobots respond back

I've been battling it out with Yahoo! Mail for the past year trying to get my account that had been compromised back from the festering asshats that infected my computer and doomed me to a life of autobot responses.

Here's the latest retort:

Hello auto-generated robot response! Thank you for sending me yet another email letting me know there are way too many requests to process. It makes me feel special, that warm fuzzy feeling knowing that I'm being looked after while someone has absconded with my account impersonating me letting my family and friends all know how much I love them by giving them tips on how to earn fast cash, grow a larger penis and ways to cure loneliness in an adult manner. I only had my account for fourteen years, well thirteen if you consider this past year that my account has been compromised, and this is the first time I have been unsuccessful looking at all the Yahoo! DIY account retrieval steps.

I look forward to hearing from you again autobot, perhaps next time you can send Bumblebee, Prowl or Optimus Prime to help.

No prayers | 09:54 PM