Pre-emptive

i mumble because i'm afraid to commit to an idea, emotion or thought.
i fumble my words so i can say, "you're not getting what i'm saying.".

Overheard in my psyche

Me: "i think i sold out"

You: "what were you selling?"

when i grow up...

i think i'm finally taking responsibility for my spending habits and, by extension, the resultant financial crises i've experienced (am experiencing).

maybe i'm an adult now.

last night i consciously skipped going to the gym as a symbolic act underlining my commitment to put my financial well-being (or just-alright-being) first as my number one priority and prime consumer of all my energy.

if only i'd tripped over a million bucks.

instead, i went to taco bell (budget-conscious) and carried it home with me to fuel an evening of work trying to find small or part-time gigs that would bring in some more money.

as i ate my beef meximelt on the train ride home (didn't want it to get cold), i felt acutely aware of my fellow riders' reactions. from the amount of attention they were paying me, i think the smell must have been pretty strong. at one point, i wanted to turn to the girl next to me who kept staring at me pointedly and say, "you wanna pay my bills? ok, then stop making that face at the only meal i could afford!".

i felt so underprivileged and impoverished.

and then i got home, opened my brand new macbook pro (17", baby!) and propped myself up on my luxe queen-size sleigh bed to write my latest whiny blog entry.

"...SO-o-meday...things are gonna get easier...SOo-meday, things'll be bri-i-ighter..."

...i forgot "confessional"

sure, some will accuse us of playing semantics games here...and i think you'll have to agree the lines between memoir, diary and confessional aren't that sharply drawn...especially in the blogosphere...

but nevertheless...witness my stab at differentiation below.


confessional:

i'm an a__hole. it's decided. i passed my test yesterday and acted EVER so much the ingrate to my ex-.

wunderbar. it's everything i ever dreamed!

ugh.



memoir:

i'm checking out. i'm distancing myself from my world at large for a time.

i can feel a change occurring in my way of seeing things; of reacting; of reasoning through and resolving issues that arise, even! every thought is heavily portentous, it seems -- even more than usual!! (heavy)



diary:

what's going on in my mind? why do i spend money i don't have now, against what i will (inevitably) earn in the near future without even a clear idea of what i might be doing to earn it? what gives me the idea i'm about to "come into money" and can therefore continue to live like i'm flush with cash, when the truth is it's monday, i don't get paid 'til friday, and i have $20 in the bank to last the rest of the week? what makes me think i'm in the same league as all the friends and acquaintances and people i see around town who have already made their fortune, when i don't even have a good idea - much less any sort of plan to tap its potential - of what i'll do for mine?

so there you have it, folks! three types of blog entry...and one jaded, hapless son-of-a-b---h with delusions of grandeur.