Why I fucking hate September, in a nutshell.
1) Weather extremes. At no other time of the year do I have to put on a winter coat and hat and scrape frost off my truck windshield, then strip down to my skivvies to keep from overheating by mid afternoon. The "crisp, cool days" that everyone seems so fond of do nothing but remind me of the fact that summer is ending and I haven't done half of the shit that I wanted to yet.
2) The fucking equinox. I fucking hate ignorance. Now, lets fill my facebook feed with ignorant people making wild claims about the equinox. Hey, dumb shit, you can balance a broom or an egg on it's end just as easily on the other 364 days out of the year. Gravity and basic mechanics don't change simply because the Earth's rotational axis is perpendicular to an imaginary line between it and the elliptical orbit foci that actually has mass.
2a) The fucking equinox. I like sunlight. I don't spend nearly enough time outdoors appreciating it, but I like to look out a window and know that it's still there. Having the distinct joy of driving both to work and home from work in darkness does bad things to my psyche.
3) 9/11 and/or patriots day
a) enough with the fucking conspiracy theories.
b) let's celebrate the men and women who risk (or sacrifice) their lives in the defense of our freedom by passing a bill that takes away as many of those freedoms as we can while still claiming "it's for everyone's benefit."
c) Thanks to a bunch of assholes flying a plane into the side of some buildings, I can't take a camera anywhere within a 50 mile radius of culturally significant architecture without harassment from some authority figure and/or "good citizen" on a fucking power trip. Skateboarders everywhere are rejoicing that photographers are now the new urban scourge.
d) .... fuck it.
4) I left for bootcamp in September. 'Nuff said.
5) For 14 years of my life, September heralded the start of school. Save for a few specific individuals, I fucking hated school. After blocking out the bad shit, my high school memories consist of computer science class, Tech Bowl, and a halloween party.
6) My "happy fucking birthday." I can't even begin to describe how much I hate my fucking birthday at this point. It's solidly me second least favorite day of the year, right behind June 5th. I hate the whole "happy birthday" thing. No. I just want to have a normal fucking day. That would make it happy. All of this fucking bullshit pomp and circumstance creating an artificial pressure to have a good day does nothing but absolutely ruin the day in progress. Fuck off. Maybe you're right, though. Maybe I'm cynical. Let's see.... If I think about an actual happy birthday, two come to mind. My 21st, where my two best friends drove three states to make sure I had plenty of tequila to wash the night away, and my 13th, spent launching model rockets all afternoon. The last decade has pretty much been shit for birthdays. 2003 - On duty/midwatch. 04 - Balls deep in someone else's waterspace doing what submarines do best when they're balls deep in someone else's waterspace. 05 - shipyard with 18 hour workdays and a 2 hour commute. Do the math on that one. 07 - ORSE (three weeks of running reactor safety drills at sea for 20 hours a day). 08 - let's not even go there. 09 - or here. 10 - I don't even remember it happening (other than a photog friend from Peoria making an awesome video that made me cry a little). 11 - I asked for one thing. The thing I asked for was $10 and six miles up the road. The day came and it was decided by someone else that it was too hot and muggy for what I wanted, and I'd obviously be much happier with lunch in manasshole. So, yeah, maybe I'm cynical because happy fuckingbirthdays don't exist in my world. maybe just backing the fuck off and letting the day come and go just might make it happy. And maybe, after a few years of that, I might even be able to have an actual happy birthday.
6a) Everyone born in September eventually realizes that they exist simply because of a drunken Christmas party or a drunken New years party.
6b) I can think of several milestone days in my life that are far more worthy of celebration than the anniversary of a couple muscle spasms convincing me to crawl out of my mom's crotch and join the world. Like October 28th - the day I chose to live by taking the shotgun out of my mouth and asking for help for one.
7) The word "September." it means seven. It hasn't been the seventh month since Julius and Agustus fucking Caesar fucked everything up. Change the name already.
1) Weather extremes. At no other time of the year do I have to put on a winter coat and hat and scrape frost off my truck windshield, then strip down to my skivvies to keep from overheating by mid afternoon. The "crisp, cool days" that everyone seems so fond of do nothing but remind me of the fact that summer is ending and I haven't done half of the shit that I wanted to yet.
2) The fucking equinox. I fucking hate ignorance. Now, lets fill my facebook feed with ignorant people making wild claims about the equinox. Hey, dumb shit, you can balance a broom or an egg on it's end just as easily on the other 364 days out of the year. Gravity and basic mechanics don't change simply because the Earth's rotational axis is perpendicular to an imaginary line between it and the elliptical orbit foci that actually has mass.
2a) The fucking equinox. I like sunlight. I don't spend nearly enough time outdoors appreciating it, but I like to look out a window and know that it's still there. Having the distinct joy of driving both to work and home from work in darkness does bad things to my psyche.
3) 9/11 and/or patriots day
a) enough with the fucking conspiracy theories.
b) let's celebrate the men and women who risk (or sacrifice) their lives in the defense of our freedom by passing a bill that takes away as many of those freedoms as we can while still claiming "it's for everyone's benefit."
c) Thanks to a bunch of assholes flying a plane into the side of some buildings, I can't take a camera anywhere within a 50 mile radius of culturally significant architecture without harassment from some authority figure and/or "good citizen" on a fucking power trip. Skateboarders everywhere are rejoicing that photographers are now the new urban scourge.
d) .... fuck it.
4) I left for bootcamp in September. 'Nuff said.
5) For 14 years of my life, September heralded the start of school. Save for a few specific individuals, I fucking hated school. After blocking out the bad shit, my high school memories consist of computer science class, Tech Bowl, and a halloween party.
6) My "happy fucking birthday." I can't even begin to describe how much I hate my fucking birthday at this point. It's solidly me second least favorite day of the year, right behind June 5th. I hate the whole "happy birthday" thing. No. I just want to have a normal fucking day. That would make it happy. All of this fucking bullshit pomp and circumstance creating an artificial pressure to have a good day does nothing but absolutely ruin the day in progress. Fuck off. Maybe you're right, though. Maybe I'm cynical. Let's see.... If I think about an actual happy birthday, two come to mind. My 21st, where my two best friends drove three states to make sure I had plenty of tequila to wash the night away, and my 13th, spent launching model rockets all afternoon. The last decade has pretty much been shit for birthdays. 2003 - On duty/midwatch. 04 - Balls deep in someone else's waterspace doing what submarines do best when they're balls deep in someone else's waterspace. 05 - shipyard with 18 hour workdays and a 2 hour commute. Do the math on that one. 07 - ORSE (three weeks of running reactor safety drills at sea for 20 hours a day). 08 - let's not even go there. 09 - or here. 10 - I don't even remember it happening (other than a photog friend from Peoria making an awesome video that made me cry a little). 11 - I asked for one thing. The thing I asked for was $10 and six miles up the road. The day came and it was decided by someone else that it was too hot and muggy for what I wanted, and I'd obviously be much happier with lunch in manasshole. So, yeah, maybe I'm cynical because happy fuckingbirthdays don't exist in my world. maybe just backing the fuck off and letting the day come and go just might make it happy. And maybe, after a few years of that, I might even be able to have an actual happy birthday.
6a) Everyone born in September eventually realizes that they exist simply because of a drunken Christmas party or a drunken New years party.
6b) I can think of several milestone days in my life that are far more worthy of celebration than the anniversary of a couple muscle spasms convincing me to crawl out of my mom's crotch and join the world. Like October 28th - the day I chose to live by taking the shotgun out of my mouth and asking for help for one.
7) The word "September." it means seven. It hasn't been the seventh month since Julius and Agustus fucking Caesar fucked everything up. Change the name already.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
tovi:
happy birthday!!
spyro:
I <3 this post.