Hey, I still have a webpage! I thought I'd bring back what promises to be more or less a steady stream of content with the long-overdue return of actual pictures to the site. Splutschnik V was held yesterday, and great times were had by all, even by Angela, who smashed her face on some concrete. My team, comprised of myself, along with Eric, Audrey, Pat, and Megan, successfully visited sixteen bars, not counting the Quaff at the beginning. As is evidenced by the linked photos, we had a great time, and look forward not only to the next installment of the blessed event, but to any time spent at all with our new friends.
Just as soon as something happens that makes me feel good about myself, confident in my abilities and my personality, and shows me that there really are people out there that find me as interesting as I do when I talk to myself, It's all wiped away by the simple idle passage of time. Imperceptibly but irrevocably.
Why is it so hard to meet people? Why is it so hard to know people? Why does it freak people out when I open up to them? Why is it that amid a group of unbelievably fantastic, supportive, and loving friends I have so much trouble sustaining happiness? Why is it that the moments of happiness I do experience are just that: moments? Fleeting. Disappearing. Gone before any kind of certainty can ever be imparted, and no shadow of the moment ever manifests again, other than my own whiny yammering to my all-too-patient friends. The moment is gone, to be forgotten. Because if it isn't forgotten, it will just torture me for far longer than anyone seems to expect it to, myself included.
Am I just vulnerable? Am I missing something? Am I being a baby? Is this kind of singular struggle one that afflicts others, but they're just better at hiding it? Is this where sad music comes from?
I didn't notice the moment when it happened, and now I miss it.
Sorry about that emo post the other day. I feel better now. Developments have since arisen that largely cancel the bad feelings I had, or at least distract me from them well.
I'm going to Derek's bachelor party in the Ozarks this weekend. It's going to be in the 70s on Saturday. So that means that when someone passes out outside, we needn't concern ourselves with any danger posed by hypothermia. We will load ourselves and our personal effects into a 15-passenger van, leave the seats at a gas station, and talk about important things whilst rolling around in an unlawfully dangerous manner, all the while exploiting Missouri's lack of an official nondriver open container law.
Also, there will be mustaches. Photos to come.
Still no job. I got an official, "no," this week on one that I was feeling pretty good about. These things happen. Another thing that happens after five months unemployed is the cashing out of one's 401/k, which I did this week. In doing that I bought myself perhaps three more months. Four if I'm damned thrifty. I suppose I should get a temporary job in the meantime.
All that said, I'm in a really great mood. I had an excellent week in all things besides finding a job. I have a great weekend in store, principally occupied by the occurrence of the wedding of my friends Derek and Mary, whose wedding website I made for them. Speaking of said wedding, I took a bunch of pictures from Derek's bachelor party down in the Ozarks, and have decided to stop delaying their release with my inability to sit and caption them all at once. So here you go.
Some downtown business advocate guy wants to talk to me about making Splutschnik a commercial event. We'll meet for that on Tuesday. To keep you busy, play with this.