ball of lightning [dot] com

You think I’d be used to (and therefore rational about (and therefore not frustrated at)) not getting what I want anymore.

Guess not.

(A- on my ComSci prelim, B+ on my Multivariable– I suppose THAT could be construed as a positive…)

I’m sorry, I’m being “theraputic” again.

I can’t even pinpoint the beginning of the fall, but I must have been slipping for a long, long time.

I’ve lost all touch with my friends back home. I have to IM people to get them to talk to me, I’m left out of plans, no one comes to visit, no one even inquires about coming to visit. I can already predict the summer now. Home, 52 hour work weeks, bowling and that’s it. Of course, I’ll get home and make some reaches to some people, they won’t reciprocate, I’ll get fired up and say “Fuck it.” It’s set in stone.

And I have no friends here. Well, I have “acquaintances” I suppose. But no real friends. No one who really thinks of me first in any situation. No one I can confide in. No one who seems to thoroughly and genuinely enjoy the time they spend with me. They’ll like me when I’m up, and despise me when I’m down. The wrong group. All I did was try to change myself, to imitate everyone else. What a terrible idea. It wasn’t fun, it was never fun. It was stupid, it was not me. It was never meaningful, it was never symbolic. I told myself I’d never try to go against myself to try to impress. Damn.

Remember when I first came here? I was so excited to broaden my horizons, to get cultured, to go to lectures of really fucking smart people, to go to musicals and shows and concerts. To make connections, to have fun at every turn. I never used to mock people. Why do I do it now. I never used to use racial slurs or mock my own religion. I do it now. Why? To be funny? To fit in? Last year I really tried, I came here and every day introduced myself to at least five new people. That lasted all of a week. Turns out a lot of people found me a big turn off. Whether it’s because I’m not Cornell rich, or people don’t like spontenity, or they thought I was creepy or unattractive or annoying or whatever. So now I have no circle; I have people I can get a hold of if I need to, but no one who gets a hold of me when they need to. My life has devolved into 3 PM beirut games. I feel physically ill. Has it really come to this? Have I really slipped this far, that I can’t approach new people, that I can’t be me?

Arg. (Hmm– I kinda wish I was a pirate) This sucks four and a half million times over. The only difference between me and manic depressant is I don’t try to kill myself— (I mean who can kill themselves when the Red Sox are only a month away?)— although I’m going to go and be anti-social– with my head in my pillow, drifting in and out of consciousness, and wishing I could do it over again, knowing that it’s an utter impossibility.

I’m sorry if I sound like a broken record, I’m sorry if I sound like a downer and have scared you away. But whatever, you had been warned numerous times before. It’s not like anyone reads this anyways. Maybe I just like typing, maybe it’s a cry for help– even I don’t know what good it does. Ugh, I’m losing too many readers because of this.

… I’m not really sure how it goes…

I think I’ve been having a tough time balancing the future and the present. I can live for the present to the point it’s detrimental to my future. But if I focus too much on down the road–

… well, I’ll never get those years I missed out on again.

When did it all get so complicated? When did I miss the memo?

I guessed wrong. I took a risk– not even a calculated risk, and guessed wrong.

It’s not me, I’ve forced myself to be someone else for this last year plus. I’m sick. I’m tired. I’m writing this out of frustration. I can’t stand another person telling me I’m ruining their day because I’m too emo. I’ll fucking kill them. Anyone who is going to tell me that they are sick of me being a downer is a selfish bastard. I am tired of people telling me who I am, what I am, where I’m going. I don’t know, I’m confused, lonely, whatever else. I picked wrong. I have made a series of critical errors. I got unlucky. I’m tired of living in an apartment where everyone feels the need to be “fucked up” all the time. I miss MY clique. I’m tired of trying to mold myself differently. I’m tired of stating an opinion and then have one person come after me like I’m a million miles off base because I don’t want to agree with them. I think the way I think, someone doesn’t need to sit down and say “Fine, Colin, but you’re wrong.” You’re right, I could be a million miles off base– but there’s a reason. Half the time, I don’t know what it is– inward emotions, prior expierience, partial to a whole story? But either way, my brain took it and ran with it, and it did it for a damn good reason. Telling me I’m retarded isn’t going to solve that. I miss my dorks, I miss the small stupid things that people call retarded and dumb. I miss not caring whether what is going to come out of my mouth is just going to get me made fun of. I miss being stupid. I’m tired of being smart and drunk. I’m tired of the lifestyle. I’m tired; exhausted. I hate that my life boils down to sitting around doing nothing (I guess talking IM style is mildly entertaining) or going out and getting plastered in the effort to either play beirut (which loses it’s luster after 1000 games), stand around and talk about nothing, or try to get with some girl who is even more drunk than me. Then again, maybe I’m alone in the “wine and dine” aspect of developing a relationship– Lord knows I haven’t found enough biters up here. I really quite frankly don’t want anything to do with trying to pick up girls “because they’re drunk” or “because they are obviously looking to get some.” That’s a sick culture, it’s— I don’t know if it’s demeaning, or insulting, or what it is. Maybe it’s just carnal instincts, maybe some crazy Darwinian aspect of life can show me that. But either way, that’s not how I was raised, and that’s now how my friends shaped me. And I’m sick of not doing anything productive, going to movies, going to shows, going to performances, going to sporting events. I’m tired that every time I think of doing something, beirut and/or getting high interferes. I’m tired of living in isolation, and I’m tired of lacking self-esteem. I have gotten so worried about messing up with making new friends, that guess what, I haven’t made any (well that’s sort of a lie but…). I want the nights where people just watch a movie. I want a night where we go wander around the city for no reason (I guess Ithaca kind of sucks at that, huh?). I miss having dumb conversations that don’t end in “that’s retarded.” I want to have a snowball fight or something. I don’t know EXACTLY what I want, but overall, this is not what I wanted.

I don’t know. I really do like Cornell sometimes; other times, I absolutely abhor my decision to come here. I knew it, my friends knew it, and my parents knew it. Whatever, they warned me– I warned me. I knew the pros and cons, and while I didn’t really think my decision through long enough– overall, it’s hard for me to justify doing something else.

I know, this kind of lacks coherence. Whatever, I know what I meant– I don’t really know if anyone else has too. I’m not sure if this is thereputic because I can go back and read it, or other people can (though my extremely veiled references seem hard for people to bring up– that or they know I’m talking about them and just don’t want to listen, care to listen, or desire to bring it up). Then again, this isn’t really directed at anyone in particular (?). My rambling.

It’s not really a depression. It’s more of a nostalgic, or a condemnation, or an epiphany. Someday I’ll decide for myself who I am and what to do. Someday.

I will attempt to refrain from future instances of slicing kiwis on a plane orthogonal to the central stem axis.

Schenectady Invitational this weekend. Oh my. Great Wall of China. Shot 183, 184, 227, 267, 258, 238, 171, 192 I think. Something like that– I know I finished at 1720 or with a 215 average. This is all while missing four 10 pins, chopping two 6-10’s, and missing a washout and leaving a couple big splits. Should have been up around 230 (and likely would have been top few overall with some mighty elite company) if I could make my spares and made a ball/line change sooner in the 7th game (Delta kept hitting flat on the left lane– at the end of the 8th game I went to the Xception with a deeper line and more side and went out for a 192 (Yeah, the first part of my game was really that bad that I “went out” for a 192)). Doesn’t look like we’ll be one of 16 teams invited to sectionals though, even with our season opening win in the Blue Hen in Delaware. Oh and we came close to bowling a Baker 300 game. That would have been mighty impressive for us. Apparently we have a thing with doing well during team games, and if I have any say, next year we are going to go with a huge Baker format if we get sanctioning or whatever we need to host a tournament up here in Ithaca. Yeah, suck on that you individual high gaming bastards.

Average in the Wednesday league has been around 210 for the semester– thanks in large part to a big 686 this past week. Again, missing spares killed me– a 686 with five opens– should have been a 720 or 730. I think I’m just around even (actually I’m at 199.167) in the club league– I struggled to a 577 last week, and prebowled a 618 for this week (a 618 with a 254– yeah I know what that means about my other 2 games).

Other tournaments of interest:

Hawk Invitational (Utica, NY — first one back from break) - Averaged 193 or so over 8 games. Shot was very tough though– field average was low– I was top 10 overall out of 90-something (even with a 145 in my 7th of 8 games).

Rockland Invitational (White Plains, NY) - Horrible. Won’t discuss it. Only good news is it turns out we didn’t bowl enough games for it to actually be an official official tournament.

Mardi-Bob Invitational (Poughkeepsie, NY) - Averaged a little over a deuce. Wasn’t anything special, I don’t think I was extrememly far above the field average (they haven’t released the final stats yet)– it was a fairly easy shot, I’ll admit.

So in conclusion, totaling my “sanctioned” games back in Ithaca after break I am averaging around 205, which for me is mildly impressive seeing as it’s over four different shots in five different leagues/tournaments (of course I’m sure Bill puts out a similar shot for Tues/Weds at Newman).

Either way, bowling has been back on the upswing since late November/early December. (I averaged roughly ~200 right before break– about 215-220 over break (albeit on a wall or two) and about a 205 (across shots) after break.

Not really a point to that, just things running through my head. Other than to convince myself I don’t actually suck. Going to try a NEBA if I go home for winter spring break, and might do a PBA Regional if I do well in that. I know a lot of people think my house average is too low for a regional, but then again, I’m not one of these house bowlers– I’ve bowled on sport/PBA shots before and I’ve handled them reasonably well– better than some of these oafs who show up at them standing left, throwing right, and wondering why they hit the ditch on their first shot.

When one (one being me) is in need of a pick-me-up, he looks no further than Brandon Yancik. Here’s to reliving the most memorable quotes, from the most non-ghetto white kid who thought he was ghetto because he actually did live in the ghetto. (Quotes archived by Jesse Koleszar– my personal comments are italicized)

“Hey guys check out this kickass bowling ball I’m looking at. Oooh guys look at these shoes… OOOH 13 MEDIUM” (While in the Sky Top Pro Shop, he was easily distracted and his squeaky rendition of “OOOH 13 MEDIUM” referred to male size 13 Dexter shoes)

“I could average 190 by throwing a baseball down the lane!” (Brandon’s best retort at someone being proud of their 190 average– note that to this day Brandon still averages sub-200 with a bowling ball, let alone a baseball)

“Hey guys, I’m getting a job at Ames, okay?” (Yes Brandon, the Ames which was “going out of business” at the time)

“I always beat Latoya’s ass… and she likes it!” (A reference to Brandon’s black neighbor and younger sister’s best friend)

“When they eat, they piss.” (A reference to eldery at nursing homes.)

“When I was 16, I went out with a 14 year-old; when I was 17, I went out with a 13 year-old.” (I likely muttered something about being a senior in high school and hanging out at the junior high). “So fucking what, man. That 13 year-old had TITS!”

“I’m not conceited, I’m just full of myself.” (Classic, and the kid wonders how he never passed anything in high school– when he actually WENT of course)

“I get hung over all the time, but never vomit I just feel like shit.” (Not sure where this quote originated)

“Nymphos are hot… If I were a chick, I’d be a nympho!” (Brandon lacks a filter as thoughts travel from his mind to his voice box)

People like to say one thing and do another.

Or maybe it’s just we all change mindsets too easily because we are weak to temptation?

Maybe I lack enough change?

(Maybe I lack grammatical skill as well?)

A few people have called me out for being on a “moral high horse” both in Ithaca and from back home, so let’s make some things painfully clear.

See, I might say some things that people interpret as being jabs at them, but very rarely do I take a stab at someone– “You’re stupid because you did this,” “Hey man, you’re a fucking retard because you said that.” I don’t bring personal pit matches against people. Sometimes an opinion, a method, a function– yes– but I will not usually stoop to a personal attack. Technically I don’t think I can be on the moral high horse if I’m not actually talking shit about you personally, huh?

And what’s funny, is one person this past week who called me out for being on a “moral high horse” for actually *gasp* defending Republicans actually recently wrote an editorial for a school newspaper, in which he wrote (and I quote); “Hey, we are doing them a favor. Someday they’ll wake up, stop watching NASCAR, stop saying “Git ‘er done!” and stop sleeping on their personal side of the family lines and realize that intelligent design was wrong all along. Wait, folks in the hills of Kentucky wisening up? Nah– I wouldn’t hold my breath.” How absolute crap like that gets published is beyond me. Things like that infuriate me beyond words– especially when people tell ME that I’M fucking the one that is putting myself on a pedestal. So me talking about the dangers of drugs with a couple friends (without I might add, going “Dude you really are fucking stupid for doing them”) is me being high and mighty, but someone else calling people who believe in intelligent design* flat out wrong and retarded is doing the world a favor. And what sucks is that 90% of people who read shit like that will believe it, and take it and use it later on down the road. It’s like the point the liberals try to hammer home. “Well, we’re just smarter than the Republicans.” Ah yes, forgot. Every Republican is a drunken, God-loving, liberal-fearing inbred hick. No, my bad. Should have remembered. Everyone who votes left (of course people, note that I myself voted for John Kerry two falls ago) is obviously very intelligent, while people voting for conservatives are vastly misinformed and directed by religious issues rather than political (another quick editorial aside; some night I’m going to get bored and post my ballyhooed church and state are inseparable speech).

I don’t know– sometimes I’ll come off as condescending because I actually, you know, care about people. My friends– you know those people I grew up with– those people I spend 90% of my life with– yeah, those guys– the ones I care about. And trust me, I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve been through a couple health crises in my time. The last thing on my mind is to walk around and call people out to make me feel better about myself. You think people would have already figured that out from the way I actually act. If I have one, you’re damn right that I’ll offer an opposing viewpoint. Maybe you don’t like me putting out the viewpoint but hey, I’ve never tried to shove anything down anyone’s throat (more than I can say about some proselytizing [oooh, big word] atheists). If I do, call me out on that– but more than likely, you’ll just be merely misinterpreting an opposing viewpoint as me trying to “force” my religious or scientific beliefs on you. And of course, nothing I ever say is founded in fact– all are merely a figment of my imagination and I “cherry-pick” points I want to make. (Well, again editorial aside– cherry-picking is actually essential in arguing when you have opposing viewpoints because you surely won’t acknowledge any sort of factual opposing statements that detract from your case).

So if you are going to say “Colin, for the love of God stop being such a douche and get off your moral high horse” because I said “Hey, I read that this [insert way of life] is kind of sketchy,” is it possible that the roles are actually reversed. Is it that you don’t like hearing something that’s actual a counterargument to your deep-rooted beliefs? Because that’s what’s wrong today– no one gives a damn about the other side. They are right, and everyone else are ignorant. It happens with the morons and it happens with the geniuses. Maybe it’s just written into our genetic code.

* As a random aside– I don’t subscribe to either/any theory 100% because I’m not going all-in either way. Evolution clearly happened, there’s no denying that– and I’ll admit, that some people might be blinded by their faith if they believe that science will someday show that the Earth was actually created in 7 “sols” (weren’t “days” at that point). But science has yet to explain where life came from and how the process of evolution is set into motion. I’m saying from the very onset of it. Do molecules randomly collide until they form DNA? That fight for survival– how did that switch get turned on? We know that life consists of living and then procreating to keep a species moving forward, but has anyone actually thought about WHY that is. Why don’t species just go “meh, whatever– when I’m dead I could care less who comes after me.” When did that genetic code get going and how did it start? Of course the response will be “because that’s the way life works,” at which point I’d have to respond “why?” All I’m saying is that until the basic and fundamental questions are answered, they’re will always be a shred of truth to the idea that a supreme being (or hell, a race of aliens) had a hand in creating life. Then again, where did said God or aliens come from??