Category Archives: Human Interest

An Open Letter To Sampson

26 Tuesday Oct 2010

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It’s taken me a while to figure out what I do and don’t want from you, but I think I’ve got it now. 
I want more from leaving my heart out in the open than the gut feeling that you’ll never return the favor.
I don’t want to lose some semblance of the friendship we had once, even if that takes time and a half.
I want someone who makes me a priority instead of an option.
I don’t want to come in last on a list of deciding factors about life choices.
I want to feel the desire to be impressed by someones work more than critical because I am trying to tell you something but can’t find the words or make you listen.
I don’t want to wait for someone who is half convinced that he’s in love to figure out what he wants.
I want to stop having you mentally block me at all the inopportune times, it makes conversations about relationships hard, and painful.
I don’t want to feel so stuck and unable to explain things when I don’t think before I talk when someone mentions germany and I respond with how I HATE GERMANY.
I want to feel like I have someone who would be there if I need them.
I don’t want someone who is such a fucking pussy about believing in something and just running with it because it feels better.
I want you to read this without me having to send it, because I don’t feel like we have a direct line to each other anymore and it would mean that you were paying attention enough to know where to look.
I don’t want to think about you anymore, but I’m not sure if you can help that.

You Think It’s Ironic And Awesome, But Really You Look Like A Tool

05 Tuesday Oct 2010

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1.  Using china tea cups for tea that you bought after someone else used them and you thought it was cool (IE that girl that you want to be because she’s effortless, Lady Gaga).  Don’t get me wrong, I used tea cups for a while, but it was not because they were cool, it’s because I had a shit load of them given to me for college ware and decided they would come in handy as bowls for small amounts of food, shots, and ashtrays.

2.  Calling yourself a bitch and then acting like one to prove that you really are truly a bitch.  We get it.  We don’t want to actually be your friends.  The problem here is that people often over-accentuate negative things about themselves, I do it with my nosey-ness, but only when it comes into play.  For instance, when I ask a lot of questions I mention that I’m really nosey and you can tell me it’s non of my B I Business.  If you open a conversation saying “I’m a bitch.” Where does it go from there?

3.  You have 29 profile pictures.  In 10 of them you are artfully and purposefully smoking a cigarette.  I’ve had profile pictures where I’m smoking cigarettes before, but I realized that what people actually WANTED to see was my face, not my cool-urban smoking style.  Because it’s not cool or urban.  It’s pretty unattractive to a lot of people.  Poor me and my nicotine.

4.  That indie film that no one but you and your best friend has seen?  The one that you quote all the time and laugh about because you watched it high off your ass and missed half of it because you had to go in the kitchen to get munchies?  I saw it.  It sucked.

5.  You drank an entire handle of liquor and didn’t get drunk?  That’s amazing, you didn’t even… oh, you did puke.  Then I think maybe you’re delusional.  And for the record, I’m not impressed.  It’s way more fun to drink three shots and be hammered than waste an entire handle by vomiting it right back up.

Confidence, Cohen.

20 Monday Sep 2010

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I’ve been thinking recently about confidence.  The definition of the word as a noun is full trust; belief in the powers, trustworthiness, or reliability of a person or thing.  So in my words, being confident is about having the belief in yourself that you will succeed at what you are going to do, and that you can trust yourself to be the best you that there is.  This would apply in asking for a small loan, buying bread, spitting out your toothpaste.   have encountered a few people lately who have surprised me at their lack of self-confidence, and it’s not only making me sad but getting on my nerves!  It’s really annoying to have to constantly be telling people that they rock.  So I was thinking about what goes into self-confidence, and here is my personal formula:

  •  KNOW YOURSELF:  Self-confidence is not the same as being delusional.  I am confident in my ability to have little fear of strangers.  I am also confident in the fact that I cannot speak German.  I am confident that I will be able to say something to piss off others at any given point in time.  I am also confident that I can sometimes say the right thing.  In order to be able to trust and believe in yourself you must be able to see your entire being, flaws and gifts, and know what they are so that you can also…
  •  ACCEPT YOURSELF:  Acceptance of your shortcomings and your strengths are important because only through acceptance is there any chance of change.  This is something that so many people will not agree with or accept, because seeing the bad with the good makes us squirm.  But repressing things or ignoring things… it’s like putting leftovers in the fridge and not taking them out for months.  What you get when you do take them out is something with its own life source and mold and mutations, and it’s even more alarming and disgusting than you thought it could ever be.  When you accept the parts of you that you would consider bad you are accepting yourself as a human being.  This doesn’t give you the right to throw it in other’s faces, but the ability to maneuver with what you have in a way that plays up your good, even possibly giving you room to take those leftovers and mix them with something else to make something delicious.  
  •  ACT IT:  Even when you don’t think you can do something, or you don’t think you deserve something, even when you think others will think the worst, act like you know that you can do it, you know you deserve it, and no one else matters.  And hopefully you will start to think this way.  Because it’s true.

 

Confessions

03 Friday Sep 2010

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I’ve been having a rough week.

I’ve been in a pissing match with my best friend because I got fed up with letting her feel so incredibly alone, wallowing in self-pity, self-destruction, and self-righteousness.  It’s been painful.

I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep, and I’ve been really tired.  Am really tired.

I realized that the most overwhelming longing of my innermost self is to marry a good man and be a good wife, then have a child or children and be a good mom.

I have also realized that I don’t have ambition to do anything else.

I also have realized that I will never find a husband and most likely will never have children, and will inevitably die a virgin. 

I don’t want to go job hunting but I’m going to have to. 

I wish I could just book a flight to some random place and never tell anyone I’m going and never come back.

Maybe I should help mom start a real business just for kicks.  Maybe she’d pay my loans off or something.

Arrested Development. I wish!

17 Tuesday Aug 2010

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Hello ladies and jellyspoons, my name is Dirty Sean (sometimes) and I will captain this possible titanic of a blog.  This little blog is what I hope to use as my anonymous but completely honest testimony of my life.  I do not always feel that I have much to share, but I am using this as an exercise not only in creativity but also in positivity!  I often sulk about and think gray thoughts about my gray life when the only think keeping me in gray is me.  I choose a new color, and automatically I think pink is good but I’m a bigger fan of anything on the blue spectrum.  This will hopefully be my way to take stock of lessons I’ve learned and relationships I’ve had, as well as a place to post things like “Dirty’s Research Papers” which will be my half-assed attempt at journalism for myself.  At least it will keep me on my toes and give me a project! 

One of the reasons I am starting this project is the fact that I seem to have people in my life that want secrets to be kept and I want to honor that, but sometimes things need to be said and I feel that I need a place for my honest opinion without putting these people up for speculation.  Understandable, I think.  And I also usually end up feeling strongly about things and not being able to speak my mind on them, partly because of dramatic character actors that use life as a stage, and partly because of selfish character actors that use life as a stage. 

On another note, I enjoy doing percentages.  Only sometimes, and only in a specific category.  The category I enjoy is “How Much Of My Life Is Spent Doing X When I Am Y Age”.  It’s quite interesting to think that when you were 4 years old you spent a 4th of your life in the summer, and when you are 12 years old you have spent a 4th of your life in the summer, but it’s technically a larger number because more time has passed.  Then you start to think about how everything was bigger and longer when you were young, like how an entire day felt like a week because you had only been alive for 4 years so to you it was the longest thing and yet growing shorter by the day.  The only problem is that I am horrific at math and can never remember how to find percentages.  But I remember now!  Divide the top fraction by the bottom fraction, etc.

Here’s what I’m thinking on today:  I hate getting my period.  I think it’s messy and stupid and it gives me cramps and makes me moody like a girl.  So how much of my life is spent dealing with the horrors of shedding my epididymis?  Well, there are 1104 weeks in my 23-year-old life.  For 10 of these years I’ve been getting my period.  That means that there have been 120 weeks in which I deal with PMS and general touchiness.  So 120 weeks out of 1104 I am a bitchy monster that should live in a trash can.  120/1104=0.10869.  So basically I have spent 10.1% (rounding up) of my life acting like a crazy person.  I think.  To double-check I’m doing months as well, so 30/276=0.10869.  Looks like I’m keeping the calculator in tact tonight folks, no throwing it against the wall or spelling out boobies for my own amusement.