Last weekend, my mother and I went to Las Vegas. On paper, it was to celebrate my twenty-first birthday. In reality, I had just turned twenty-three. My brother took two years to figure out where he was going, and I was in college. Anyways, the trip was nice, and we saw Hoover Dam, the strip, and Death Valley, but I'm not sure if it's my cup of tea, or if I'll ever go back. The entire city is based on ripping people off. The very rich eat in the overpriced celebrity restaurants, while homeless people lay down on the Strip and near Fremont street and either peddle or suffer. The Guy Fieri Sports Kitchen charged fourteen dollars for beer, and thirty-six dollars for some acceptable nachos, and I'm still very torn up about the whole ordeal. However, it was a fun trip, and I survived a ride on a Boeing 737 Max 8!
These sorts of trips just have me motivated to see more and more stuff. Hopefully my experience at Furry Weekend Atlanta is very rewarding in this regard. It's like I start to seeing stuff I'm not familiar with, and by the time I begin to appreciate it, I have to return to my daily life. I want to see the world one day. Maybe after I hit management, it will become managable with the large amount of vacation time.
I also got promoted at work. I got a 10% raise to spend on furry trash I don't need, showing I have successfully gaslit management into thinking I'm a competent electrical engineer!
The thoughts on my mind this week are mostly about how other people run their lives. A friend of mine, I feel like, is taking on so many responsibilities that they're headed for a state of constant burnout. I worry greatly for them. Maybe I have a more sociopathic approach, but there's a point where you have to shed load, get rid of some responsibilities, before you clench your hair in your fists, rip it out of your scalp, and end up in an insane ward. "Taking a break" may help, but sometimes it's treating a symptom instead of the underlying cause. I do not think enough people know how to shed load in this country. We need time to ourselves, to think, to rest, to enjoy our lives. A lot of people are obsessed with skipping past the roses at mach three, and it's at times frustrating, usually worrying, and occasionally very sad. I have significantly more free time after I graduated college, but I haven't been doing anything with it; I need it so I don't destroy myself from taking on too much.
Unrelated, it turns out a local fur lives about 10 minutes away from me, and they want to meet up. Naturally, this is perfectly timed with my move to Saint Paul. So it goes. I'll probably meet up with them once, then only hit them at conventions. I don't anticipate stopping in Madison much after my move; at most it'll be a rest stop on future drives from the Twin Cities to Chicago.
I might have also made a friend at work. I told one of the more senior engineers I have never experienced Rocky Roccoco's pizza. We are going to lunch tomorrow.
The next blog post will cover Easter. Because of how my family is, most of the stress of easter comes from my family talking shit about other family members, and the dumb wench my grandpa picked up at a yacht club. Her name is Suzanne. I try not to cuss on this page, but she is a cunt. I hate her. She insists on inserting herself into my family, and one-upping everyone, and whoring out for attention, and I just want that bitch to finally leave me alone. Go back to Starved Rock Yacht Club with your metal knees and chronic bronchitis! She even had the gaul to ask when I was in next, not because she wanted to see me, but because she's too stupid to figure out her own technology. How insulting!
Usually we talk shit about our family members before holiday occasions, then the holiday goes fine, then we talk shit about them some more. It's really a toxic mindset, but there's also some huge assholes in my family. Including Suzanne. Fuck Suzanne and her metal knees and conservative politics I'd have come out as pansexual to my family by now if I knew she'd leave and everyone else would stay.