<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592</id><updated>2008-11-24T10:44:41.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mataus</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ninjapirate.org/atom.xml'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-6204855786605663557</id><published>2008-10-17T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T21:28:25.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year</title><content type='html'>It's almost November already... I can't believe it's been nearly a year since I've lived here. I've been struggling practically the whole time, heh. Still not quite sorted out, but I'm getting there. I only have a few more things to pull together before I'll feel half-way successful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live with Katie now. We share rent on a mother-in-law suite in her parents home. It's a beautiful place. About 20 miles north of Seattle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure what else to write...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still friendless here... I pretty much just work and sit at home. It's... great... Katie and I get out, but other than her I don't have any interaction with... friends. I'm really bad at making friends apparently. I have one or two, but I haven't been in contact with them since I left working at Nintendo and went home for two weeks. I've tried to get out to lunch with them but it never seems to work out. Bleh... I'm trying hard not to give up, again.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/6204855786605663557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=6204855786605663557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6204855786605663557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6204855786605663557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/10/one-year.html' title='One Year'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-5043259737641957654</id><published>2008-06-07T02:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T03:16:32.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want...</title><content type='html'>I want to talk to and about old friends again, for once. I would love to walk down streets I know with a few of my old friends. I want them there when I'm stressed and afraid of going to work for whatever dumb reason I have. I want them there at 3:00 AM when I need to talk about forementioned dumb reasons. I need them here, now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been really out of it today. I did get to see Katie, but only in situations where it was not &lt;i&gt;socially acceptable&lt;/i&gt; to be ourselves. We were with her parents, or with Victoria's friends for the majority of the time. No one I felt comfortable being myself around, except Katie. I felt boxed in and uncomfortable. Unable to really think straight about anything. Still, now, I'm incapable of thinking straight. I guess that's why I'm here... Katie wouldn't stay awake and talk to me - she was too tired. It took 10+ calls to wake her... I guess I shouldn't have kept trying after the first two, but I feel really bad. I'm not really sure what to do with myself in these situations without anyone around. I can't focus on my book, and I can't focus on playing a game, or even listening to music. I just want to talk to Katie or be asleep, or just nowhere. These days are the days I need someone there for me, at least for a few minutes. I can hold together myself any other day except days when I feel like this. It's too much for me to handle alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to cry and cry right now... but I can't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Live at KEXP - Volume 1, 2 &amp; 3&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/5043259737641957654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=5043259737641957654' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5043259737641957654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5043259737641957654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/06/i-want.html' title='I Want...'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-1106166360142042645</id><published>2008-05-24T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T13:29:04.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Dumb, Luck</title><content type='html'>Not much seems to be going right lately. I quit my awesome job with WDS Global/Verizon. I was making $13/hr, and it was an &lt;i&gt;easy&lt;/i&gt; job. Why? I was depressed. I was sad because I'm three states away from the familiar. To be honest with myself I still am not settled in here. It's hard to be strong when you have $5.00 of expendable credit, and nothing else. It's hard paying rent with $5.00... I do have a paycheck coming to me, though. I guess I'll be working my ass off to get a job by next... week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than being a poor mother-fucker, everything is going alright. I still lack friends, but slowly am making some. I haven't really hung out with anyone lately, other than Katie. Which I'm entirely happy about. Without Katie I wouldn't be in Washington. I would have moved home with my tail between my legs whimpering like a poor, freshly neutered dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have any other news. Life is hard. I tend to hate it. I'm sure it will get better -- strike that, I'm sure &lt;i&gt;I will become happier&lt;/i&gt; eventually, but for now I can't seem to not be miserable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: The Magic Numbers - The Magic Numbers&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/1106166360142042645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=1106166360142042645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1106166360142042645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1106166360142042645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/05/what-dumb-luck.html' title='What Dumb, Luck'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-5034915421049839365</id><published>2008-04-23T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T21:19:08.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatherly Correspondence... Or Something</title><content type='html'>Again, I don't have permission for this... but I'm doing it anyway. I kinda like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[dad]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;Hi Scott,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got the van registered Thursday. Yesterday afternoon was really nice, and I took it for a drive on that road to Sheeps Bridge. I went up the hill toward Colorado City, and turned left on that first road. After a bit I saw a sign for the Hurricane Canal trail head. I went down that dirt road and ended up at the trail head. There was a bathroom and a trail map. I walked along the Rim Trail for awhile till I came to the trail down to the dam. It kind of goes sown the side into the canyon. I went down it for a ways, just to see where it went. There were the most beautiful wildflowers. The Navajo (Indian?) Paintbrush were out. And, the Globemallow are about a week or two from blooming. There were lots of them. I wished I had my camera. I just got the idea to go, grabbed my wallet and phone, and off I went. I was wearing sandals, I didn't take my hat, or camera, or any painting stuff. I think I am kind of sunburned today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was really impressed with the Hurricane Canal trail system, and really thankful to Laura Thomas for pushing it all through. You should bring Katie out here some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you doing? I haven't heard from you for weeks. Veronica told Mom that you had a job with Verizon. Where do you work? Are you re-thinking your living arrangements? How are things with Katie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, write or call and let us know how you are doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Dad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[me]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;Hey Dad,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I've been really busy lately... With work and spending time with Katie I haven't really been home at all. As soon as I got home I spent three days in Portland with Katie, and then a few more days mostly staying in Mukilteo at their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the job at MDS Global (a company based out of England that has a slew of different types of contracts, ranging from call center jobs, wireless informatics, and even engineering), doing teir 3 support (more or less what Ryon does...), in two days. I just sent out my resume and got about 3/5 replies. All starting at $13/hr. That experience with Nintendo really helps me out when it comes to call center work. Teir 3 basically means I'm talking to people who are smart, more or less. Some non-smart people will get to us, I'm sure... but it's mostly business(wo)men that just want the job done. I do data support only. So there aren't a million different solutions for a million different problems. In short: it's really easy, and I'm making lots of money. Normally we are going to be getting around 20 calls in an entire 8-hour day. There is a whole lot to learn though. Normally the training I would go through with an internal job in the Verizon would last for 2 months. I'm training for 3 weeks... The job is in Kirkland, but pretty far north in Kirkland near Totem lake. About 10 miles drive from my house. Something like 3.5 mi down I-5, 2.5 mi over the bridge, and 3.5 mi back up I-405.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been wanting to move out... but I don't really know where I would go. Studio apartments in the U-District go for about $740/mo plus utilities (on the low end.) Although I would like someone that I know to move in with me, instead of just random people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, sorry I've been so out of touch lately. I've just been really pressed for time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you -- and everyone,&lt;br /&gt;Scott&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: M83 - Dead Cities, Red Seas, &amp; Lost Ghosts&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/5034915421049839365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=5034915421049839365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5034915421049839365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5034915421049839365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/04/fatherly-correspondence-or-something.html' title='Fatherly Correspondence... Or Something'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-5640749167138086946</id><published>2008-04-13T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T13:27:52.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change</title><content type='html'>A whole lot has happened the last three weeks, or so... A whole lot... I went back to Utah for a week and a half. I hiked, drank, saw movies, drove around, and generally had good ol' times with my friends in Utah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before leaving though, I met that other Katie -- Katie Hale -- who I may or may not have mentioned. She is the one who ended up taking me to the airport for my flight to Vegas. We decided it would be fun to hang out downtown for a little while before heading to the airport. We went to an pretty little bookstore/coffee shop. Just inside the entrance of the bookstore there is a big spiral staircase that takes you down to the basement where the coffee shop is located. After being in there for a time we were more or &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://a359.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/35/m_74275b0a77b4a74cd218415bd5537846.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 5pt 5px 5px 5pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 149px;" src="http://a359.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/35/m_74275b0a77b4a74cd218415bd5537846.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;less out of time for our parking, so we headed back and proceeded to take me to the airport. Nothing really eventful happened beyond that that day. Though throughout my visit in Utah we texted back and forth the &lt;i&gt;entire&lt;/i&gt; time, and talked on the phone for 2-3 hours nearly every night. And... to make a long-ish story short, we fell for each other before I even came home, hah. Katie and I are great together. =) I've never been happier, or more comfortable in a relationship. Her parents seem to like me, her brother does -- I like them all. Spending time with her and her &lt;i&gt;family&lt;/i&gt; is something I really look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still having money issues, though. I'm no longer at Nintendo (again,) and just bumming around waiting for applications to go through. I &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; haven't gotten off my ass about my GED... Not having it is a ridiculous crutch, but for whatever reason I'm just not motivated enough to make one phone call and show up in a room on two separate days. I have a feeling that will be done very soon though. Everything is starting to look better for me. I'm finally fitting in here, slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Coldplay - A Rush of Blood to the Head&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/5640749167138086946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=5640749167138086946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5640749167138086946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5640749167138086946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/04/change.html' title='Change'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-5601205357877134939</id><published>2008-03-13T01:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T20:44:57.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Correspondence</title><content type='html'>I didn't ask for permission to do this, but I will do it anyway. I don't feel like writing, I'm asleep at the keys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[mom]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;So Scott, what's up?  I realize that frequently Dad and I are "of one mind",... in a literal sense, this is not so.  Talking to Dad on the phone is not the same as talking to, or e-mailing ,me.  Have I been (unintentionally mind you), cruel to you in some way? or rude?  Please accept my remorse!  profound apology,and regret.  Now, won't you please e-mail me ?  I am the epitome of  an easy going maternal unit, give me a break, will you?  I haven't sent you enough recipes and housekeeping tips?  If I were a crazy creature, (HEAVEN FORBID!)  I would be sending pages of un-asked for babble.  We all know I'm not a crazy person...partially unhinged, perhaps, but my unhingedness is excused in light of my charming personality , right?  Lest my charm take a rare turn for the morose, kindly respond.  Lots of love from Mom...  PS I am. limping only a little,  the SF hills and my knee did not like each other ,..and preparing for another visit to the bone man for shots in the thumb joints...(NOT FUN, let me tell you!).  pics of SF on the famsite..:-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[me]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;Hi Mom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did I talk to Dad on the phone? I talked to him on MSN a while back, but not on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've just been busy, I guess... Waiting for money to come in from work, working, and spending a lot of time reading. I'm still not really settled in enough to start cooking all these meals. I slightly regret moving into this particular apartment. It isn't that it is a bad place to live, but I have a hard time relating to my roommates at all. The youngest of them is 26ish, ranging to probably late-to-mid 30's. Although I have made a few friends my age. I hung out with my friend, Katie, today. I picked her up from the University, where she stayed the night with her boyfriend, and then drove and walked around in the U-district. Went to a coffee shop there, and a neat used book store, before taking her home to Marysville. Which is about 30 miles away from Seattle -- she gave me gas money for driving her home, as she doesn't have a car (filled the tank, in fact.) Other than her I talk to her friend, Victoria. Victoria and I are probably going to be hanging out more often as well, but I only recently met her. I also have a friend from work, Ben, who isn't my age, but is a nice guy with similar interests. He's invited me to play boardgames with him and his friends, but solid plans have yet to be put in place. Also Christina is a friend (of Katie and Victoria as well,) from work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reversing back to the roommate thing: I think I would just enjoy it much more if I was with people my age and maturity level. I've been thinking of moving to somewhere else, but I would want to actually know the people I were to move in with the next time 'round. I've been half-tempted since living here to move out to San Fransisco where my friend, the one I lived with in Hurricane, now lives. She and her friend, Josh, who I also know, would love me to. I think I would, too... I just don't think I have the money for it right now. It took a lot just to get moved in here, and now I'm running really short on funds. I'm having an equally hard time saving anything, with rent and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should read Thud! by Terry Pratchett. You would really like his writing. He is really skilled with words. It also a very silly book, which I think you would enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the exact date you and Dad are going to be visiting Washington? No one has been able to tell me an exact date... I'm having a hard time finding my W2s. I think they were lost in the move, somehow... They aren't in my room, and, if lost in Aaron &amp; Veronica's abyss of a house, are very likely going to stay that way. The last place I have to check is their car, which was lent to me for the move. It makes me really nervous, not having those... I obviously can't do my taxes without them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you,&lt;br /&gt;Scott&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[mom]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;Scott, thanks so much for writing me!!!  We fly to Seattle this Sat..the 15th, and we're staying 13 days.  We want to rent a car the last week of that, and drive over towards Vancouver. We thought it would be funny to spend a night in Forks, and Dad got us one night in a condo somewhere.  We'd love to spend time with you, if you are available, even if you're working, we could do somethings in the evening, yes?  I'm sorry the roommate situation isn't so terrific.  I didn't realize they were all  so much older than you. It really is more fun to have roommates your age.  Would it save you $$ to take the bus to work?  Do your friends from work know of anybody needing a roommate?  On the other side, where in SF do your friends live?  It is horrendously pricy in the Bay Area, but there are some Union jobs, which pay better, and have better benefits, but they are not easy to get, and you must pay dues every month, on time, or you get dropped from the schedule, and fined. The Bay Area also has excellent public transportation, but it's not free, either.  I lived in the city for years, and didn't have a car, you take your groceries home on the bus, or buy them close to home, plan to leave home in the am giving time to get to work,it usually works great.  But there are LOTS of nasty areas, where it is just not wise for a honky to go into at all.  You would have to be more careful than in Washington.  I think you can have a great time, and make friends, wherever you live, it takes time to make friends, and find a friend-family to hang out with.  Any chance of you going to school in the Fall?  If you stopped by the counselling office  ( you could find a map of the campus on line, so wouldn't be wandering all over ,looking for that office, campuses are big) of the most convenient Comm. College, and had a chat, told them you dropped out of school, moved to Wa., and are interested in going to school again, they would give you your options, it might be that you could get a decent Pel Grant, and you could go to school..keep in mind that if you flunk classes, it's harder to get the grant next term, so you'd want to really go to class, and do homework, etc.  You'd meet lots of people your age in school, easily find roommate situations, etc, or find friends that wanted to get an apt. together, whatever.Maybe you could take classes that would get you a better paying job? CNA is a one semester class, what do they pay CNA s in Wa.?  Or apprentice electricians, or plumbers?  A short-term class to a better job could get more cash built up for more school ,in a different direction..a job for a year or so doesn't mean it's a long-term career goal.  I understand that you prefer PC employment, but when financial considerations enter the picture, sometimes compromises need to be made?  What is, and should be, exciting about your time in life, is that many roads are open to you!  Granted, they may not all be the skipping along, yellow brick variety, but YOU get to choose what direction you take.  Is there a way you could get to swimming laps somewhere?   Sometimes when your body is busy exercising, your mind can ponder things, and think them through rather well.  A long walk works, but if you have to look where your feet are going, you can't get as deeply into thoughts.  I imagine you'd prefer to think things thru while driving, but I'd kind of like to think you'd be paying attention to the road.. Do you understand the kind of deep thought I'm referring to?  I imagine you're not able to swim as many laps as you used to, but you could start slower, go often, and get in some serious thinking.  I took swimming class (ha ha, I know)  in college, and spent the doing laps time thinking, (and trying not to drown) , I found the water, and the rhythm , esp. well suited to deep thought.Where you are a better swimmer, you wouldn't have to do the not drowning part, and the thinking would help you decide things.Not to mention developing those shoulders.  On another note, I didn't realize the "talking" was on the computer, Dad just said he'd "talked" to you, I'm not quite savvy enough to do the on line chat thing very often, and I'm kind of slow at the keyboard, when in school, I was always proud of my handwriting, and my ability to take FAST notes in class (I learned a bit of "shorthand") , I also believe in hand-written letters, although my hands are such that I can't do hand written letters as I once did.  Did you know that I wrote about 6 letters a week for many years?(long ones)  Too bad I didn't keep copies, you guys would have the makings of quite the journal of this silly woman.  Take care, Sweetie, we'll see you in a bit. We'll be at AnV's on Sat. night. Love You, Mom&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/5601205357877134939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=5601205357877134939' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5601205357877134939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/5601205357877134939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/03/correspondence.html' title='Correspondence'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-3348160698384429399</id><published>2008-03-06T00:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T01:15:43.711-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slightly at Ease</title><content type='html'>I can't really decide how I feel right now... One the down side, I feel like dying. Life feels useless. We live, we die. This is due to the fact that I thought about death, how I will die alone, and simply no longer exist after death. No matter if I leave a memory behind, I will be, very simply, a thought only to others. Death will not hurt, even a fiery death, a torturous death, will mean nothing to me when death does come. Sure, &lt;i&gt;nothing&lt;/i&gt; is hard to comprehend, but that is all death is. &lt;i&gt;Nothing.&lt;/i&gt; A nice place to be (or not be... considering you cannot &lt;i&gt;be&lt;/i&gt; in nothing.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, yes, some say that it is not how you arrive at B from A, but how you get there. This is suppose to make me content with living? I feel A and B are pointless in themselves. The analogy seems to me far too linear, even with an erratic, indistinguishable mess of lines connecting the A to B. Unfortunately life is restrained and linear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have and do try my hand at seeing life in a brighter light, but there is a rather large list of &lt;i&gt;cons.&lt;/i&gt; I do see the &lt;i&gt;pros,&lt;/i&gt; enjoy every minute of them, cry when they are at an end. I cannot seem to sustain the happiness... This is very likely my brain lacking something important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, I had an amazing day off. I woke up around 12:00 PM, took a shower, and ventured out to Marysville to visit my good friend, Katie. We walked around her neighbourhood for quite a while. I didn't note the time we spent -- an unnecessary task when enjoying ones presence. While walking Christina gave us a call, summoning us to the Turkey House. We had dinner there with the three, Christina... and two. I am bad with names... It was nice, other than being beset about my Mormon upbringing (again, &lt;i&gt;sigh&lt;/i&gt;). We then left separately. Katie and I to her house, Christina and friends to whatever they had in mind for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie and I came to her house, I played her guitar a bit, and we talked in her room a few minutes before deciding we should rent &lt;i&gt;Everything is Illuminated.&lt;/i&gt; She hadn't seen it, and I had been raving about it the last few days, as well as the book. We watched it, enjoyed it. I almost cried at the end, again! I was more or less prepared for it, though. The book is far more disheartening, almost painful to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm surprised at my ability to really speak to someone after knowing them for such a short time. I feel really comfortable talking to Katie about most anything. Of course there are a few unmentionables, we all have these. She has been a huge help: a friendly face, a hug that very likely kept me from running away from my troubles (again.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to find those I consider &lt;i&gt;close&lt;/i&gt; friends at the most opportune times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;reading: Everything is Illuminated (J.S.F.), House of Sand and Fog (A.B.III), Quicksilver (N.S.), A Man Without A Country (K.V.)&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/3348160698384429399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=3348160698384429399' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3348160698384429399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3348160698384429399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/03/slightly-at-ease.html' title='Slightly at Ease'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-2642173463207508061</id><published>2008-02-23T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T21:03:50.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Was There Ever Any Doubt?</title><content type='html'>I hate nights like this. Nothing to do, no money... The friends I have up here all live  in Marysville (the distance from Hurricane to Cedar,) or are just too busy. I don't have enough gas to get anywhere exciting, and I don't have the energy to hop on a bus. Katie and Christina plan on having me come up there (Marysville) next week some time, though. I'm pretty excited for that... It should be a bit (lot) more entertaining than sitting around in the UW dorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've no one to talk to in person besides my roommates, who are not so exciting at this moment. I'm tired of talking about video games anyway. I want to talk about something real. I need more (local) friends that have similar interests who will go out with me at night, or whatever. It's so &lt;i&gt;fucking&lt;/i&gt; frustrating not knowing anyone, and not being confident enough in myself to go and make friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nintendo is planning to hire me back "sometime in the beginning of March." They'll probably just hire me as a temp for one month or something ridiculous. At least I'll be able to buy food regularly. That's slightly important. &lt;i&gt;coughbutatleastimloosingweightcough&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oohh, what else has happened... Nothing? Ah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: The Decemberists - Her Majesty&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/2642173463207508061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=2642173463207508061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/2642173463207508061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/2642173463207508061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/02/was-there-ever-any-doubt.html' title='Was There Ever Any Doubt?'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-6951575857181955012</id><published>2008-02-19T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T04:06:07.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prison</title><content type='html'>I don't even know what to say in this one, hah. I generally wait a month between postings, but I've been feeling utterly terrible these last few months -- especially February. I suppose that is why I come here though, comfort? Talking to myself at this time of night is really the only thing I can resort to, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;Cold&lt;br /&gt;Lying in my bed&lt;br /&gt;Staring into darkness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost&lt;br /&gt;I hear footsteps overhead&lt;br /&gt;And my thoughts return&lt;br /&gt;Again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a child who's run away&lt;br /&gt;And won't be coming back&lt;br /&gt;Time keeps passing by&lt;br /&gt;As night turns into day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so far away&lt;br /&gt;And so alone&lt;br /&gt;I need to see your face&lt;br /&gt;To keep me sane&lt;br /&gt;To make me whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to stay alive&lt;br /&gt;Until I hear your voice&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna lose my mind&lt;br /&gt;Someone tell me why&lt;br /&gt;I chose this life&lt;br /&gt;This superficial lie&lt;br /&gt;Constant compromise&lt;br /&gt;Endless sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dream Theater "Endless Sacrifice"&lt;br /&gt;(this is &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; the entire song)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sums up just about how I'm feeling now. There's almost pain with this one, though. My whole fucking body hurts. Sleep and food being replaced by video games and cigarettes is likely to blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side I have made a new friend, Katie. Of course I've only hung out with her &lt;i&gt;once&lt;/i&gt;, we've been conversing ever since. She's exceedingly nice and chats with me regularly -- which is what I've been lacking in friendships since I've moved to this rainy, depressing, cold, dark town. It makes me feel generally better about things to have at least one person up here I can half-way relate to. Strange I'm saying such things about someone I hardly know, hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Dream Theater - Train of Thought&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/6951575857181955012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=6951575857181955012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6951575857181955012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6951575857181955012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/02/prison.html' title='Prison'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-6714053835795873842</id><published>2008-02-09T04:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T04:51:52.204-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wayback Machine</title><content type='html'>I took the Wayback Machine today, 'twas quite a ride. Below are a few things I dug up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 16-year-old self, starting the blog that is what it is now. Of course I was a pretty ridiculous kid at that time... Those who knew me at that point totally understand this, those who don't will probably just think I'm stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;Tuesday, September 27, 2005&lt;br /&gt; Updates 9/27&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I created a new banner image. This probably isn't going to be the final one, but it is better than the one I had on there before, IMO. I also changed all of the links to a different color (#00a1e1), it looks a lot nicer I think. Anyway, that is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scotty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep... I'm ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now something I found by linking off that page - my ex-girfriend's old blog! Ah, the memories. This is a bit earlier in the year (2005) than what I quoted above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="qt"&gt;i'm not that tired and talking to scott(and matt) is much more fun than sleeping:P Scott worries me some times. he worries too much about things that involve me and other guys. like his friend jon who i "dated" in 4th grade (even though all we did was hold hands! obviously! it was only 4th grade! sickos!) but i worry about what he's thinking. does he worry about me being friends with Jon because he acts like it. i don't know. blarg! i can't wait until school starts and i can see scott and my friends everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Malissa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expressing concern at her extreme flirtations and dreams of fucking every last one of my friends... makes me insane. A funny side note to that: She broke up with me about two months later for two of my good friends. Take &lt;i&gt;careful note&lt;/i&gt; that I am not expressing anger at this point. I just think it is humorous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the wayback machine yourself to what I once thought was a TTLY AWESOMEZ &lt;a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20060812100032/http://ninjapirate.org/contact.html"&gt; web design&lt;/a&gt;. Ho ho ho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;reading: War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/6714053835795873842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=6714053835795873842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6714053835795873842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6714053835795873842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/02/wayback-machine.html' title='Wayback Machine'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-1026250218094947584</id><published>2008-02-05T00:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T01:16:28.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Days Later...</title><content type='html'>I still happen to feel the same as I did in the posting of last. Of course I have had time to consume more words by Vernor Vinge and H.G. Wells. I am clearly on a science fiction kick, as everyone should be, all the time. Only good science fiction, mind you.  None of that Star Wars fan writing &lt;i&gt;bullshit.&lt;/i&gt; Frankly, no &lt;i&gt;Star Wars bullshit&lt;/i&gt; at all. Sure, the movies are good (and only the earliest few,) but nothing else. Fuck &lt;i&gt;Star Wars&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;b&gt;*cough*&lt;/b&gt; I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back on subject. I'm still feeling depressed. Same as before. I talked to Tiffany today. She asked for my &lt;i&gt;high school education.&lt;/i&gt; I constantly dread facing that simple question. As I have yet to even pursue my GED. Of course not having my GED makes it that much harder for her to find me a job. Shit. Not like I wasn't expecting that. Getting my GED will not be hard at all, I'm just lazy as hell. My laziness is detrimental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also contacted Garret (my to-be roommate) to see how the process of kicking out their one roommate is going. It's looking like he won't be out until this weekend, &lt;i&gt;if that!&lt;/i&gt; I was told that I would get February rent-free if I wasn't in by Monday... Today is Monday. Not that it upsets me that February will be free, of course, but I am beginning to get totally pissed at the entire situation. I was suppose to be moved in five days ago, enjoying my freedom. I'm feeling claustrophobia as depression clouds around. I'm already starting to feel powerless. &lt;i&gt;Dammit.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Shuffle&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/1026250218094947584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=1026250218094947584' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1026250218094947584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1026250218094947584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/02/days-later.html' title='Days Later...'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-2366748432825825741</id><published>2008-02-02T21:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T17:20:59.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hug the Fuck Out of Them!*</title><content type='html'>Two days ago, Friday, I got the call I've been expecting for a while here. My temp. job at Nintendo was completed. I did know it was coming, as the call volumes have been really low for the past two weeks. I wasn't expecting to be so disappointed. It kinda threw me into this odd depression. Of course I'm worried about being able to pay rent.  Even with the money behind me to pay about three months rent... and by then I'm sure to have a job. Aerotek says they already have a few things in mind for me, but as I was fired on Friday at like 4:30, my recruiter, Tiffany, had already gone home for the weekend. So it looks like I'll have to wait until Monday to hear anything about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another most amazing thing that happened to me on Friday: I got an email from Garret, one of my to-be roommates, stating that I would not be able to move in that day (Friday) as the guy their kicking out is a huge, insane, asshole. He has, one way or another, found some sort of &lt;i&gt;fucking&lt;/i&gt; tenant law that allows him to stay in the room for a few more days. The people I'll be moving in with are very chill, nice, et cetera. They just got unlucky with this guy I guess. He won't be there when I go in, so  that doesn't matter much to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be out of &lt;i&gt;here.&lt;/i&gt; I can hardly read my book for Christ sake. I slept on the floor in the family room last night - about 0000 to 0400, and then slept from 0410 to 1000, and again from 1600 to 2000... In other words; all day long. Just to avoid everything. I still feel like I want to sleep more. I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep. And then when I wake up it would be nice to go to some sort of college for a few years before going to my dream school: UCSD. I will probably have to sleep much longer before going to UCSD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Rivers Cuomo - Alone: The Home Recordings of Rivers Cuomo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://m.assetbar.com/achewood/autaux?b=M%5ea11f09b8576e606bcb5038dfdb92fb821&amp;u=http%3A%2F%2Fachewood.com%2Fcomic.php%3Fdate%3D03242003"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Achewood&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/2366748432825825741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=2366748432825825741' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/2366748432825825741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/2366748432825825741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/02/hug-fuck-out-of-them.html' title='Hug the Fuck Out of Them!*'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-2750423361051100293</id><published>2008-01-22T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T20:10:44.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running and Running and Running</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been listening to a lot of new and really excellent music. Matt linked me to a new tracker that has been amazing thus far. I just hope I'll be able to keep up the seeding when I am moved in to my new apartment. I suppose I could just schedule my downloads to seed really late at night... yeah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lunch tomorrow with Tiffany and Whitney - I'm excited for it, I suppose. I can't help but to be curious as to what we will talk about. Work? Or just ... life? Who knows. It will likely make me feel better about things though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been down on myself at work lately. Feeling like I always do about any work that I partake of. Sub-par. I think that is just what I am, though. Sub-par. On the rare occasion I will find myself at par with myself but, alas, 'tis a rare one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I really need is for Summer to arrive. As I say that rain clouds will cover up the moon I've been seeing the last two nights. Not that the sun warms things up - in fact it was much, much colder due to the lack of clouds. I think the short presence of the sun, moon and stars did have some kind of positive impact on my emotions. Always a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing of a very good friend getting into heroin does put a damper on things, to say the least. I have a feeling it isn't going to stop at heroin, either. Damn that kid...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Wild Carnation - Tricycle&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/2750423361051100293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=2750423361051100293' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/2750423361051100293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/2750423361051100293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/01/running-and-running-and-running.html' title='Running and Running and Running'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-1331698201297197941</id><published>2008-01-12T23:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T23:19:30.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Nothing</title><content type='html'>I don't know what to say about the month or so past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked a lot. I played a lot of games. And socializing was at a high low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm going to visit a potential living space. The guy that I've talked to seems really cool, and they all seem like they will be good people to live with. The area is likely shitty, but I don't care. The commute will be longer too, but at this point I just want to be somewhere else. I'll deal with the commute, and I'll deal with the area. I just want to be, finally, out and on my own properly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in a few more months I'll be ready to start looking into college. If not college then I want to move out of the country somewhere. I'll make one or the other happen, no matter what goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: The Decemberists - Her Majesty&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/1331698201297197941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=1331698201297197941' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1331698201297197941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1331698201297197941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2008/01/mr-nothing.html' title='Mr. Nothing'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-3595214479572144244</id><published>2007-12-11T21:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T21:18:12.861-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1UP</title><content type='html'>I finally got a job. I think I mentioned that in my last post--I'm not really in the mood to go and read my last one. It's a pretty great job. I'm a little worried about how it will go when I'm taking live calls, but I'm sure I'll do just fine. It's all about training, anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that, since working at Nintendo, my confidence levels have skyrocketed. I can speak my mind to whoever ends up sitting next to me, and feel comfortable with it. I have never been able to do that before. Likely it's due to how accepting everyone seems to be around here; I don't feel like I'm being judged all the time. Except when I'm "home," of course. &lt;i&gt;cough&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother is suppose to be helping me with a little Perl script that will finally be getting MusicGeek back up and running again, but of course he is constantly too busy... even when he isn't. The only real thing holding me back from getting to work on it is the fact that it's not yet live. I would really love to start doing podcasting for the site. I've actually met a few guys in my training class that are big into podcasting and could help me get our name out there, help with the technical aspects of it, et cetera. Not that the technical aspects of podcasting are beyond my capability, it's just nice to have some help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working 8 hours a day is so tiring. Bleh. Mostly the mother-fucking drive home wares me out. Fucking city traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Klaxons - Myths of the Near Future&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/3595214479572144244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=3595214479572144244' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3595214479572144244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3595214479572144244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/12/1up.html' title='1UP'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-369987378291879739</id><published>2007-12-01T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T05:17:43.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck 2.0.1</title><content type='html'>I feel so &lt;b&gt;fucking&lt;/b&gt; gross right now. I need a shower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irrelevant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seattle is fine. Having no friends is not fine. Nintendo is fine. Making new friends is scary. I'm probably going to be the youngest by far among those people. I suppose that is good. Friends over 21 means alcohol. Alcohol is &lt;b&gt;fine.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irrelevant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Weezer, "In The Garage"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://base.googlehosted.com/base_image?size=2&amp;q=music/image/0/07ollNQQXx3M.jpg"&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/369987378291879739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=369987378291879739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/369987378291879739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/369987378291879739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/12/fuck.html' title='Fuck 2.0.1'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-398755353056460298</id><published>2007-11-12T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T16:44:31.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not In Kansas Anymore</title><content type='html'>The coffee doesn't taste as good when you aren't with your friends... Cigarette breaks are boring and lonely. Fulfilling a habit rather than socializing; that's all coffee and cigarettes have been for me this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on finding a job, but it's hard when you don't know the area. On Tuesday (tomorrow) I'm going in to Verizon for what hopefully will turn into an interview. Working there would be the most ideal job for me at this point in my life, I think. They offer tuition reimbursements, and various health benefits. My Brother and Dad want me to get a job at a Help Desk. After all that is where Aaron began to make his way into the Tech field. It took him a good 10 years... but he did it. I'm sure I could, too... but I don't know if I'm all that interested in having a career in the Technology Industry. All I want right now is a good job that will get me through school. School is where I'll build my career. I want to be a scientist, even it if does take me 12 years of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I've been nervously delving into is the whole social thing... If you know me well you know that I've never had to be the new kid. I lived in the same house for 18 years, had the same friends, neighbors, teachers, cops... I have never not had a friend to hang out with; and now I'm being forced, albeit by myself, to make friends. I'm sure I will meet wonderful people up here, I'm just really bad at getting myself out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really miss you guys! Ciara, Cody, Chase, Tori; I think I will make a hole in my schedule around Christmas, or maybe New Years! New Years is a wonderful time of year to party, although not much goes on in Southern Utah... Maybe I'll pay you guys gas to carpool up here, hahah. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PostScript: I've been playing a whole lot of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Settlers_of_Catan"&gt;Settlers of Catan&lt;/a&gt;, online! Any of you that have easy access to a computer should come and play some games with me sometime. =) Just create an account here: &lt;a href="http://games.asobrain.com/"&gt;games.asobrain.com&lt;/a&gt; and let me know your IGN (in game name) and a time that you'll be able to play. It's good fun, I swear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: &lt;b&gt;Soma.FM&lt;/b&gt; Tag's Trance Trip&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/398755353056460298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=398755353056460298' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/398755353056460298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/398755353056460298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/11/not-in-kansas-anymore.html' title='Not In Kansas Anymore'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-1073805219432297048</id><published>2007-10-29T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T20:35:19.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seattle ... ?</title><content type='html'>The last two or three weeks have been pretty hectic; and just last night I made a decision I've never had to make before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago, or thereabouts, I ran up to Cedar City with my roommate/friend, Ciara. Her and I proceeded to become very, very drunk. It was a rather large party, those of which I am normally frightened to attend, but alcohol does wonderful things to me. At some point during the drunken party a girl who I've known throughout high school (who does not drink alcohol--anymore) was helping me stay vertical and out of trouble, her name is Niall. This only got me speaking with her again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next night, or maybe weekend? I don't remember... A friend of hers, Josh, came down from Vegas, who also happened to be a friend of my roommate. We head up again to Cedar with more alcohol to Niall's house. The group of us, Ciara, Josh and I drank a whole lot of gin and played Cranium with Niall and roommates. Alcohol and Cranium don't make a winning team, but it's quite a hilarious time. Niall and I ended up on a team, and lost horribly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time I've become cripplingly attracted to Niall. With the alcohol making me wonderfully confident, and touchy-feely^10, we end up "cuddling" throughout the night. If I am remembering correctly, anyhow... (revisions allowed in comment form.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day on my way to work Ciara sends me a text saying something to the effect of, "Gwyn (Niall) likes you, you should go up to Cedar again this weekend and go on a date..." and so I do. I actually ended up staying there for two days, and calling in to work to spend an extra night. Between talking on the phone to her twice a day and texting in-between we grew very fond of each other. I spent three days a week with her. Normally this would proceed to become a fine relationship, but there is a twist... Niall has a boyfriend, who she is deeply in love with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His name is Kenny, and he is on a LDS mission. He really doesn't belong there, but I think there were other, deeper reasons for him going then his religion. He wanted her to date other people, but she didn't expect to actually &lt;i&gt;like&lt;/i&gt; other people... Whenever I was with her, when we kissed, when we hugged, she didn't feel &lt;i&gt;right&lt;/i&gt; about it due to her love for Kenny. Every day I could feel myself falling in love with her, even though it was forbidden. I knew that even when she was happy with me, she felt wrong, and it killed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yada yada yada, I'm forced between making the decision to move to Cedar and live with Niall, or move far far away to Seattle. There was no &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;right&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; solution. So I chose what seemed best for my future; moving far far away. I'll miss her.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/1073805219432297048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=1073805219432297048' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1073805219432297048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1073805219432297048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/10/seattle.html' title='Seattle ... ?'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-6395408525958730241</id><published>2007-10-13T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T15:00:21.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Humdrum</title><content type='html'>I've overcome my feelings, at least for today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to move to Cedar City. It's a solid decision. I know I've been planning on moving to the North West (Portland or Seattle,) but that will have to wait.. It will probably be another year before I make that move. I have no clue where I would live in Cedar, but I have plenty of connections there. I've been offered housing, whether it be realistic or not I cannot say--I do trust there will be affordable housing for me though, and employment. Not sure if I'd be able to get a transfer to the Wal-Mart in Cedar, but there is always other decent jobs in Cedar. I am an experienced stocker now, I suppose, among other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a problem though... transport... My parents are refusing to let me carry on with the car I am borrowing from them, if I am to move that distance. Even though it is a piece of shit, and I can pay for the insurance, maintenance, et cetera. Maybe if I offer to purchase it from them... I could just buy a car, but I refuse to dig into savings, and only have about $300 of credit paid, and the $700 to pay it in its entirety is not coming in too quickly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emotionally today; I'm feeling quite well. The party last night was, quite literally, my first true party. I called in sick for the second time this pay-period, but it was extremely helpful. I'm quite calm, contented. It is necessary for me to give up on _____, I hadn't a chance with her anyhow. I now consider her a close friend and will  leave my emotional attachments as such. It would be nice to meet a nice girl, but for now I refuse to take an offensive in the matter. It is far too stressful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Final Fantasy - Has A Good Home &lt;br /&gt;reading: Rainbows End, by Vernor Vinge&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/6395408525958730241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=6395408525958730241' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6395408525958730241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/6395408525958730241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/10/humdrum.html' title='Humdrum'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-1830721945315694087</id><published>2007-10-11T05:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T14:58:13.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuming</title><content type='html'>I'm angry at the world. More specifically two people. Fucking kids fucking up my good feelings. I'm tempted to take tomorrow and the next day off of work, which would then include my weekend. Four days, two of which I would love to spend in Cedar, but I think Tori would be too busy to babysit me for so long; she's about all I have up there. Unless I find Josh and spend a night in his van, unless he's abandoned that idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a feeling these next two weeks are going to be long ones. If I'm able I would like to relocate to Cedar City and call that my home until I remove myself from this horrible fucking State. I would try and make a move this weekend or next but, it's obligatory for me to stay here until the end. Even if my emotions can't stand it any longer. It's fun, but it kills me witnessing certain shit that goes down. It makes me sad, it makes me lonely, it makes me believe that I truly am a huge fucking loser--I tend to cry sporadically in my car on the way to and from work. It also seems to have made me stop eating...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: The Mountain Goats&lt;br /&gt;reading: Rainbows End, by Vernor Vinge&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/1830721945315694087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=1830721945315694087' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1830721945315694087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1830721945315694087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/10/fuming.html' title='Fuming'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-3093942957338143957</id><published>2007-10-05T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T12:08:32.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulling Hearts</title><content type='html'>I've decided to take this advice to heart: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They are just girls. Be thankful you don't have cancer and move on." -Anonymous commenter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been hurt over and over again, and I'm sick of it. I'm tired of this continual useless pursing. I've yet to not be hurt by the girls I so needlessly need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it isn't that easy, giving up. Eighteen-years is prime time for dating, having fun. I suppose I'm just not the type? I haven't a clue. What I know is that it isn't easy to just discontinue being crushed; 'specially I, a huge softy. Being dropped on my head is clearly not doing the trick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Ben Kweller&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/3093942957338143957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=3093942957338143957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3093942957338143957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3093942957338143957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/10/pulling-hearts.html' title='Pulling Hearts'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-3983801440350837294</id><published>2007-10-04T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T07:28:07.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contented</title><content type='html'>Talking to someone this morning, I have acquired probably the most impressive, caring, apologetic, depressing and uplifting (yes, all at once...) piece of words anyone has ever bothered to say to me. I won't tell you who wrote this, and I won't ask them to introduce themselves to you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's like watching a movie with you as the protagonist, and I want to tell the stupid girl in the film to go after you... I'm just, -shrug- I don't know, not attracted that way I guess. --But I almost wish I was, because I want the 'protagonist' to 'get the girl'.... That probably makes no sense, but I tried.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been contented with her and I relationship in the past, and am even more so now.  I love her as a friend, and I'm sure we'll stay good friends for ages and ages and ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is still that other girl, though. She may have given up on me... Maybe I should say something? I'm a shy, and irritatingly hopeless guy around her--and I see her every day now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to - Silence&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/3983801440350837294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=3983801440350837294' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3983801440350837294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3983801440350837294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/10/contented.html' title='Contented'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-1473469219193344003</id><published>2007-09-19T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T06:12:11.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping In A Lonely Place, All 'lone</title><content type='html'>Things have been a little better, I suppose. I'm moving out very soon into an apartment here in Hurricane. Only for a month. If the offer stands, which I believe it will. 'm moving in with Ciara and Cole; if the offer stands. It should be exciting living away from home. Even though away is less than five minutes. I'll be independent if you want to call it that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a little less lonely too. I've gone up to visit Tori twice in the last month, which is a very nice break from Hurricane life. She's a sweet girl. And yes, seeing a good friend two or three times is way more interaction than I normally get. Not counting work, 'cause that's a bunch of really shitty interaction. The goddamn boxes are more interesting to talk to than half the people working there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night shift is killing me slowly though. I always want to go and hang out with people; Ciara, Chase, Cody, (holy shit, the three C's) whoever ... but I never have the heart or energy to actually get out there. All I want to do on my weekend is sleep and play fucking WoW. I suppose there are people to talk when I'm playing for a majority of the time - I've become good friends with the few of them who I've known for about a year now - but that doesn't count as healthy interaction. I love the few friends I have and feel bad for not spending more time with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexis gave me her address in Germany and I planned on writing her, but I accidentally deleted it ... ='( Hopefully she will look at this again, or check the comment I left her and re-give it to me. I miss her too... I guess for the longest time I was drawn away from her because, well, I had a crush on her and she started dating some guy I just assumed was a weirdo because I was jealous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm over that now. I'm over that feeling for anyone right now, unless they convince me otherwise. It's been the cause of a lot of hurt, mostly due to myself being insane. On second thought though, it would be nice to have a girl to be with, without all the goddamn drama. I just want someone to have fun with; someone who has fun just talking and sitting around and being lazy, lazy, lazy. Cuddling is always nice too. Although for me cuddling does not have a binding contract with dating, I just have to like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: The Postal Service - Give Up&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://userserve-ak.last.fm/serve/160/325934.jpg"&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/1473469219193344003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=1473469219193344003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1473469219193344003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1473469219193344003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/09/sleeping-in-lonely-place-all-lone.html' title='Sleeping In A Lonely Place, All &apos;lone'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-3093031241364308031</id><published>2007-09-10T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T19:12:55.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Shot ... Or Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;i&gt;I know that I can't make you stay&lt;br /&gt;But where's your heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honey if you stay you'll be forgiven&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexis, it seems you didn't get my email, so: I apologize. None of that was called for in the least. I guess I was just depressed that day. I suppose saying hurtful things was my way of channeling my own pain into something else, but it only ever makes it worse. I felt alone, and betrayed when, all along, it was &lt;b&gt;all&lt;/b&gt; my fault. I was jealous, I was lonely, I was in love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll take the offer. Let me know when you'll be back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Hope you're having fun in Germany. Become fluent in Deutschsprachig, make several friends, et cetera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: My Chemical Romance - The Black Parade&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:Hw1U4QzC-UW_aM:http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper337/stills/5ay24671.jpg" /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/3093031241364308031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=3093031241364308031' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3093031241364308031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/3093031241364308031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/09/shot-or-two.html' title='A Shot ... Or Two'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17093592.post-1798723680663569871</id><published>2007-08-30T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T12:12:05.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Be Goings On</title><content type='html'>I'm so fucking stupid,&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahmhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahohahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahrhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahehahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahdhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahehahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahphahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahrhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahehahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahshahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahshahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahehahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahdhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahthahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahnhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahnhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahyhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahthahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahihahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahnhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahghahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahthahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahohahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahuhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahghahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;listening to: Cursive - Domestica&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.amazon.com/images/P/B00004TTFM.01.MZZZZZZZ.jpg" /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/1798723680663569871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17093592&amp;postID=1798723680663569871' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1798723680663569871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17093592/posts/default/1798723680663569871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mataus.org/2007/08/whats-be-goings-on.html' title='What&apos;s Be Goings On'/><author><name>Scott Mathews</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05098333948132877545</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry></feed>