A Dream of Ten Years

 Well, 25 is here, whether I like it or not. The day was underwhelming, for the most part. Exactly what I wanted. Work sucked, and it was raining hardcore, making the bike ride back fairly miserable. I don’t want to be in this position in a year. One of my friends took me out to Red Robin for dinner, where some other friends were waiting. That was really cool, I’ve never had a surprise dinner or party or anything like that. I also got a fair amount of happy birthday texts and facebook wall posts, which is always nice.

I posted a colossal rant  note on Facebook earlier in the day about, well, everything. Why I hated turning 25. Pretty much what I write in here, just being honest. I didn’t think anyone would read it, in fact I had to look up how to make one, but it seems a lot of people did. It’s good to get all that off my chest. It sounds like most people just texted the roomies asking what was up with me, instead of saying anything to me, but there was some direct feedback that was unexpected. I need to be honest, to have my intentions and opinions known. They need to be challenged, if only to be validated. I have waxed on the subject with several people lately. I’m getting used to talking about what I want to do with my life. I believe there’s some sort of significance to this. Even now, most people still have no idea what my passions are or what I want to do with my life. The general consensus, at least from any female has been "good luck, do your thing, just please don’t turn into an asshole!", which is humorous. I don’t think there’s any worry about that, but I won’t be as nice of a person. If I see an opportunity, I’ll take it, even if it means slighting someone else. I wouldn’t say I’m a good person anyway. Maybe in action, but not thought. I would do desperate things if it meant being given a golden ticket to my personal promised land.

I’ve been asking people about their dreams, their ambitions. Each answer is different. Some aren’t sure. Some want something simple. My dream is pretty lofty in the scheme of things, especially compared to most. The most interesting response was a simple wish to have a routine. To be able to go to work, then come home, put on her sweats or whatever comfy attire, and watch her TV shows, without being judged. Something stable. She has had that dream for about a decade as well. It seems so basic to me. I take routine and stability for granted. I’ve also almost always had it, whereas she hasn’t. We’re all different.

Slowly approaching Portland. I should be moving around the beginning of July. I’ve been asking about the area and doing some research to try and figure out where to move to. Honestly, it will boil down to what we find on Craigslist. The plasma center is in Gresham, which is apparently a not-so-nice suburb. Kind of makes sense that the plasma place would be there, actually. Who would go donate plasma in a rich suburb? Supposing I don’t transfer, that’s kind of a relief. I don’t want to ever have another normal job again, but if I must, something different would be nice. I’ve always had either crappy or barely acceptable jobs. I hated them, and hated the rest of my life. If I have a barely acceptable job, or even a crappy one, and otherwise am heading where I want in life, I feel it will be more acceptable. 

I’m getting over my "lovesick" phase, so that’s good. I won’t be the same as before. Instead of being used to almost always being alone, I go back to that with the memory of once being normal like everyone else. It’s haunting, and also motivation. I don’t want to ever be where I just was again. I’ll find someone else, and until then it seems I’m able to get by. I’ve been talking to someone online, trying to arrange some sort of hangout or dinner. Either she’ll agree, or not reply and never talk to me again, haha. That’s how it seems to go. I never understood the point of someone being on a dating site if they didn’t actually want to meet people. We’ve been talking for a couple weeks, that seems sufficient. 

Finals are done, though mine were very easy compared to the norm. I rocked my persuasive speech last week, did better than I thought I would on my Spanish oral skit and final exam, and passed my Kenpo belt test, though everyone did. Most of them were bad, but it was a beginner class. Now the people who were only taking it for that one PE credit are out, and the rest of us will be continuing on next term. I’ll only have one more term of it, I want to try and get my orange belt by the end. If I like it as much at the end as I do at the moment, I’ll see about taking online lessons. He’s mentioned it to the class before, it wouldn’t be the same as being in-person obviously. Starting over at another place in Portland might not be so bad, but I really like Sensei. He is obviously serious and respectful, but cracks a lot of jokes at the same time, so he always keeps you on your toes. I could just pop in to Medford whenever I need to take a belt test.

Spring Break is next week, and it needs to be spent trying to fix my car. I’ll spend the weekend ransacking my room to see if I have a spare car key, if not I’ll call a locksmith and get one made. Then I can move the thing, and I can try to fix it up. I want to learn myself, rather than paying someone else to do it. When I move to Portland, I will have no help, and I don’t trust mechanics.