Arnold wants to amend the Constitution to ensure that he can run for President. Essentially, that

would mean that the President wouldn’t have to be a born in this country to rule it. …I don’t even know why this has become an issue? First, why would any one want Arnold to be President? He was an actor and had never held government office until becoming the governor of the silliest state in the union, and sounds like he’s swallowing pudding while talking. We already have a “joke President”. Why do we need another one? Second, it’s good to know that we’re not good enough to rule this country. The people who were born in this country aren’t good enough to be President. We need to start importing our leaders. Like our cars and alcoholic beverages. …Maybe that’s a stretch. My point remains. How many governors and senators and congressmen (and Allan Keyes, WEE!! [nutcase]) do we have? None of them are worthy of being President? I would think that there would be enough “important people” who have a wealth of experience at their fingers to make that next step to President. Not a man who was elected into office after squaring off against a “little person” who, on numerous occasions, was asked, “what chu talkin’ ‘bout?” This was, of course, directly after the man who was governor was kicked out of office for not doing a good enough job. They set the bar a little lower, and elected Arnold. Does that mean the rest of the country needs to follow suit?

How about this people from the stupid state: NO!

A weeks wait taint long

I've become a tad too familiar with this house. Over the past week that I've spent here I haven't

done much but examine it. Think about what improvements are needed, new paint, furniture and things. It has become stagnant and repetitive. Not the kind of place I want nor need to be. Think about an apartment by myself. Hardwood floors and dark woods would keep things warm. Won't happen for a while with no job. Still looking. Networking. Need to spend more time on Monster and Career Builder responding to job postings.

Oh, who am I kidding, I'm talking about myself. (shock...not so much)

My hair is getting long. I need sleep and liquids. To stop writing and think before the next time I

attempt to do so. I write best when there's a lot going on around me. When my brain is working. If I'm not "overworked" then I'm not really working, realistically. I need that overdrive, that weight to keep me going. Makes things interesting, and keeps me "in".

That's all.

I've been pretty down the past few days. No job and limited resources do not a good time make. Trying to figure out something. Probably an actual post tomorrow.

Thus begins the search again. Where do I find a new job? What kind of job am I looking for? What should I do in the mean time? Questions, questions, and getting too much sleep. MVP Baseball's been fun though. Wish me luck.

Canned or Sacked

The Moment

True subject matters have eluded me for a while. I think it’s a comfort thing. That dryer-fresh or

sweater feeling has outlived it’s structure. There needs to be created a new structure. A quieter one without someone speaking their thoughts behind gum-chewing keyboard clacking. Quite a while ago, it seems like it has been a while even when it has not, I found myself at a party with some high school friends. Those who kept me sharp at the time with thoughts on a veritable matters: Shakespeare, Poe, War of 1812, or those subjects that were far more esoteric like the historical ramifications of some event thousands of years ago or thoughts on the religious texts. This time they were all drinking. Heavily. It was discouraging to see those same people to whom I looked to for intellectual stimulation and discourse intoxicated, attempting to urinate into the hedges. The image only firmed my staunch belief in the futility of alcohol, and forced me to imagine better sceneries. I then wrote a thing (I’m apprehensive to attach the label of “poem” this particular thing, but others have called it such). It was a thing that I enjoyed writing and enjoy reading to this day as it keeps the image of to what and where I would like my life to be lead.

Today I think back at that thing, and attempt to drive myself there. That will be me in front of a

fireplace, sitting in a chair, quietly.

This is my post for the day...

It’s raining a lot. It’s cold. It’s windy. I’m glad I got new windshield wipers, my oil changed, and

tires balanced. Haven’t seen too many accidents so far. Lake Cook Road is littered with Republican signs for Bush, Keyes and the like. That seems fundamentally wrong to me. Still don’t understand why people are so obsessed with imposing their opinions on others. If you’re going to vote for Bush, go for it. If you’re going to vote for Kerry, go for it. Regardless, I don’t need to know whom you are going to vote for based on the sign in your yard. Tomorrow begins the biggest debacle in American history. It doesn’t matter who wins the popular vote and it may not matter who wins the votes of the Electoral College. The choice for president may be left to the House of Representatives while the Senate votes for the Vice-President. Does that sound strange to you? I mean, in all reality, it would be possible for George Bush to win the presidency and John Edwards to win the vice-presidency. That would be pretty messed up. Or would it? Remind me to call Apple and figure out why my computer isn’t taking the software registration code for .Mac, and to go check out stands and cymbals at the Drum Pad tonight.

That was my post for the day...