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Robottison #42


1/27/07 12:10 am

Your results:
You are Magneto
Dark Phoenix
The Joker
Lex Luthor
Mr. Freeze
Green Goblin
Dr. Doom
Poison Ivy
You fear the persecution of those that are different or underprivileged so much that you are willing to fight and hurt others for your cause.

Click here to take the Super Villain Personality Test

1/26/07 12:05 pm

Click the picture a bunch of times for a full effect.

1/25/07 05:57 pm - Impatience

I made this picture to illustrate how I feel right now. I'm bursting with energy. I want to move back home so badly that, if it weren't for a few intermediary goals that stand in my way, I would do it right now. Right now, there's a tree of events I'm waiting to happen before I can step in and proactively being the process:
1. The bossman in Utah has to call me back and let me know what locations have openings.
Once that happens, I can start house-hunting and find out where I'll live, how much money I'll need for deposits, ect.
2. I need to wait for another paycheck or so to have enough money to slap down a deposit.

The waiting is killing me, though. I call the bossman every other day (more would be unprofessional) and he'll leave me a messages while I'm working that say, "Sorry I missed your call. I can't disclose anything of importance on your voicemail." And I descend ever deeper into impatient rage. My day-to-day world seems constructed of memories, or as if I'm imagining everything that's happening. I've begun to think of my co-workers as people with whom I used to work. The lifestyle I'm living in-between living here and moving seems dissonantly grey and meaningless. The only bright spot is Emily and Robert.
Whenever I fantasize about what my new life will be like, I sometimes picture hanging out with Emily in the old familiar Utah places, or asking Rob for help when building furniture or finding studs in a wall or whenever my car makes noises. I'm going to be sad to leave them.
I'm a little worried about myself, socially. All these years, I've been such a freaking carebear. It's no wonder that I haven't really attracted very many girls. It's kindof a reflex to show people that I care about them, but I had this long talk with a older co-worker whom I respect, and apparently I need to ignore women I like. I guess that letting them know that I care is asking to be ignored myself. Looking back, that actually makes alot of sense. She compared it to looking for a dog that wanders off. If the owner keeps calling its name, the dog won't go back because it knows that the owner is safely around and isn't going anywhere. If the owner quietly stays in one place, though, the dog will start to worry about being abandon and return all by itself. Similarly, if I repeatedly call a girl or try to arrange a date/chillin' time when she's obviously ignoring me, I'm just helping her and hurting myself. So, I guess I have to learn to constructively ignore people. We'll see how that goes . . .

1/14/07 02:34 am

Best. Picture. Ever.

12/26/06 01:42 am

Merry Chrismence.

12/25/06 03:52 am

You scored as Captain Jack Sparrow. Roguish,quick-witted, and incredibly lucky, Jack Sparrow is a pirate who sometimes ends up being a hero, against his better judgement. Captain Jack looks out for #1, but he can be counted on (usually) to do the right thing. He has an incredibly persuasive tongue, a mind that borders on genius or insanity, and an incredible talent for getting into trouble and getting out of it. Maybe its brains, maybe its genius, or maybe its just plain luck. Or maybe a mixture of all three.


Lara Croft


Captain Jack Sparrow




Indiana Jones


The Amazing Spider-Man


James Bond, Agent 007


El Zorro


Batman, the Dark Knight


Neo, the "One"


William Wallace


The Terminator


Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

12/2/06 01:14 am - Workyjobman from Workyjobland!

Well, I think I'm almost finished pretending that I prefer to be single. Almost. ^_~
I've been thinking about cutting my hair recently, which is always a sign of emotional change for me. I may or may not-- On one hand, I feel like I'm crossing the railroad tracks of destiny here, and something big is about to hit me. On the other hand, long hair is really cool. So, we'll see.
In other news, alot of opportunities are springing up in workyjobland. I'm getting alot of attention and prawps (my previous spelling of the word (props) was corrected today. Apparently I've lived my whole life in error. Who knew?) from some pretty shiny brass. There's a whole slew of options inside my current entity of employment, S-o-l-e-c-t-r-o-n (Search-Engine-Safe spelling to escape corporate Anti-Blog policy ^_~). Pretty soon here, I'm being sent to a kiosk somewhere up north, supposedly to be a good example for n00bie techs, which is a generally a good sign. In January, I'm lined up to get training to be a mentor for my company, which means I'll be able to take n00bs under my wing for their second week of training. This is good, as it will:
1.) Make me much more valuable.
2.) Hint at travel in my future.
Tempting as it is to become Addison Stuart-- Traveling Technician, I hope that I'll get assigned to a specific area and more or less roam about there as opposed to the entire Western United States. Who knows, though? That could be fun, too.
Also, a manager recently approached me while I was chatting with muh wingman, Gabe. "Addison, can you come here for a second? I'd like to talk to you in my office."
Gabe gave me a look like, "It was an honor working with you," as I said that I'd be glad to. We stepped into his office and he offered me a chair as he shut the door. Trying not to show that I was fully expecting to be in trouble, I lounged a bit and forced my nervous eyes to boredly wander about his pictures, awards and other usual office trappings.
He looked at me and asked me point-blank, "Have you ever thought about working for V-e-r-i-z-o-n W-i-r-e-l-e-s-s?"
Needless to say, that alone unlocks a long hallway of doors.

11/13/06 11:19 pm

I think I made a big step today: I threw away all of my old loveletters. I don't know if I'll ever write or receive one again, but being an amputee beats dying of infection, right?

I realized today that I'm not really happy. I should be worrying about whether or not that cute cheerleader will go out with me, and what the captain of the Lacrosse team is going to do to me if she does. But what am I worried about? Sales figures. I'm nineteen years old and I lose sleep over my GD metric quotas. A spreadsheet, at this point in my life, has more power over me than a nice smile or killer party. You lose, Addison. You lose at being young.

11/13/06 03:53 pm

Would you rather live miserably or die happily?

11/10/06 10:42 am

It wasn't the harsh, mind-crushing anxiety of losing a loved one or thinking you have a tumor, but rather the slow, building wave that eventually carries you passed the shores of madness and out to the sea of oblivion. Fortunately for me, I found white shores and open arms whilst visiting my homeland. Having awakened from what seems all too like a dream, I find myself back in Washington. I'd say that I'm back home, but that would be a lie. This isn't my home, after all.

* * *

In the Northwest, the leaves fall, but they don't quite die. The humidity is such that the leaves stay green and auto-photosynthesize for two or three weeks after being shed. It's morbid in a way-- It's like imagining having a limb amputated and . . .
I digress.
Hearing the orange and brown leaves crunch under the tires of Becca's care, I instinctively knew I was home when the car pulled up at 9953 North 4000 West, Pleasant Grove, Utah #84062. It was coming up on two o' clock in the afternoon, so they should have been back from church by then. I took in a deep breath and walked quickly, cutting through the lawn as for which I've always been scolded. At first I rang the doorbell, but didn't hear anything. Out again, I thought wryly as my hand went for the doorknob.
The door was locked.
I didn't have the key.
It was someone else's house.
I don't have the key.
That place is just a place. It is no longer my home.
It all happened in that moment, really. With my hands in my pockets and looking at the ground like I usually do when I'm being pensive, I walked slowly back to Becca's car.
"Do you want to leave a note?" she asked when I got in, "I have some paper if you need it."
Looking over my glasses at my childhood home for what felt like the last time, I smiled.
"Thanks anyway" I said, "I'll just come back and see if they're in another time."
Just like I would with anyone else, in any other house.
I feel different, so free. I'm no longer on vacation-- this is the rest of my life.
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