And Though I'd Like To Stay, I've Got To Make My Get Away.

a lot has happened since i've last posted, and it's this reason that it has taken me so long to finally make this post, that and because i'm really bored and i have nothing to do at two at night. i've decided though to simply not talk about all the stuff that's happened to me recently except what i actually want to talk about. i will summarize though: camping with harbor friends, got a dog, went to raging waters, got a job (i'll actually probably talk about this), and i can't think of the other stuff.
something really creepy happened to me yesterday. it made me really sad and angry. i decided to pursue ceramics further so i enrolled in a class at a local pottery studio two weeks and a few days ago. the lessons cost me 150 dollars, which is steep for 6 three hour lessons (with unlimitted wheel time during the week though). well, i went camping a wasn't able to make it to my second lesson, and i was bummed cause i felt like i wasted the money. also, the first lesson was frustrating because he taught me techniques i wasn't used to, and i felt like a beginner all over again. so i was thinking to myself ever since i went camping (which was a little under two weeks) that in the grand scheme of things 150 dollars isn't too much money, and i will enjoy the class if i just put myself in the rigth mood or whatever. still, i knew that i just wanted my money back so that i could buy rockband beatles. well, i show up for the third lesson, and guess what i find. an empty parking lot, and a locked up studio with a sign on it. it read "John's Memorial Service August 3rd" John, my instructor, suffered from a heart attack and had died. he died on July 22nd, and i had gotten my first lesson on July 20th. While this man had been dead, i'd been bumming out on this guy, and complaining about it to myself. the sign also said that new students' money will be refunded to them. god, i just felt like shit. the man wasn't overweight, he was probably only in his late 50ths, he seemed energetic enough, and he seemed happy. but there i was, on July 20th taking up the last few hours of his life asking him pointless questions, and him explaining the layout of the studio. it just put everything in perspective. i never want to die. i just want to spend the rest of my life learning and doing nothing but what i want, because life is too short to squander away. if what i want to do is stay inside and play video games all day, so be it, but i just don't want to get a job to get enough money to buy a shitty house and spend the rest of my life paying off debts and my children's tuitions. i just want to sleep in, read all day, drink coffee, and discover music with a woman and nothing else. I read Anthem, by Ayn Rand, in one day, and it happened to be the day i discovered that John had died. if you know anything about Ayn Rand you know that she hates altruism (in it's truest sense, which is the sacrifice of value for nothing) and and advocate of selfishness. her books are so empowering and logical , and the books ends with a man basically setting up a foundation of knowledge with his wife and kids, away from the horrible civilization that he once lived in, with plans to conquer it and bring the smart ones with him. i just want to be that strong, smart, and bold. i just want to stay 25 forever.
so my job is incredible. i'll talk about it fast cause that's what i've been talking about a lot recently. basically i get paid to supervise dogs, make sure they don't hump each other/fight/go to the bathroom everywhere, clean up after them, and mainly, just play with them. my last shift, i came in for the swing shift, so i walked all the big dogs and put them in their crates for the night, and sanitized/washed all the places they played and/or slept in. that was a good two hours of more-or-less hard work, and was legitimate. after that though, all my jobs were basicially done. i had to do some laundry, which you have to wait fourty minutes to finish one load, so while you're waiting you don't have anything to do. some dog owners pay for special treatment for their dog, which includes them sleeping inside a house with a human, instead of in a crate next to all the other dogs, so it's basically my job to play with these few select dogs (which averages around 3) and do laundry for the rest of the time. that means from 6:30 till 10:30 i got paid for watching quentin tarantino movies, petting dogs, and making dinner for myself. i feel like i'm stealing, and it's incredible.
i bought team fortress two for the PC recently, and it's great. it's a first person shooter, but it's a lot different from the other typical shooters. it's much more team oriented, and during each spawn you get to chose from nine different character types to be what class you want. there;s the typical sniper clas, but then there's the engineer, spy, medic, scout, heavy, etc. each class has it's downfalls and upsides, but it's balanced so well that it's been out for three years now and the fan base is still growing. it's my first PC game, so getting use to the keyboard is difficult, but i'm starting to get better. i better though, in the past seven days i've played it 23 hours. so good!
okay, too tired.