A personal weblog of Paddy Foran, updated daily. Uncensored, unfiltered, and mainly for his personal benefit, this blog may offend you, hurt your feelings, or most likely, lead you to believe the author is a freak. Proceed with caution: here there be dragons.

Friday, October 29, 2010

So, I failed again yesterday. Terribly. Managed to not drag myself out of bed until nine p.m., a full 20 hours after I first tried to sleep. What's the most annoying is that I woke up a couple times, at least halfway, and fell back asleep moments later, anyways. I don't know why I was so tired, and why my alarms and failsafes against this kind of thing failed. It was actually an important, filled day for me: two hours of work, a presentation to a class, and leading a workshop for another class. All of that was missed.

I'm not entirely sure what to do from this point. Beyond my obvious failing to comprehend the forces at work, both outside and inside my body, that contrive to put me in these situations, I don't know how to handle this situation now that I'm in it. What do I tell the professor I was supposed to present to, that I once again failed to come to her class, even though the presentation was to make up my previous failure? What do I say to her?

I don't know how to live my life, and I don't know how to figure it out.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

I'm kind of really excited. I'm working with a friend to launch Second Bit, LLC, a software company. It's going to serve as an incubator for my random application and website ideas, and they will be released under that banner. I will also be taking on some freelance work under that banner. Look out for my stuff in the future.

I'm not sure what it is about formalising this as a company that excites me so much. I guess I've always had a weakness for official, important-feeling things. Filing for an LLC with the State of New York definitely fits that bill. Is this just another shallowness of my character, another weakness to be accounted for, this need for that feeling of importance?

Saturday, October 23, 2010

I picked up a new book about a week ago when my ex-boyfriend was visiting me (that weird occurrence seems to be a common one, for us) called "say everything" by Scott Rosenberg. It's just a story of how blogging began, and it is actually a rather fascinating read. I recommend it.

But I'm sitting here tonight, in a rather glum mood (sleeping for 24 hours straight seems to bring those on), mulling over that ex-boyfriend I mentioned. And I have to ask myself: why do we feel the need to say everything? Why does the human psyche give such a damn about being heard?

I don't really have an answer, but I do have a guess: It's therapeutic. That's the long and the short of it. Saying everything is a therapeutic endeavour that we all should try at one point or another. It doesn't even matter if anyone's listening, as long as we believe they're listening. This is what blogging, then Facebook Status Updates, and now Twitter is all about. (On a side-note, I'm being blessed with people who are listening because I have a kick-ass group of Twitter followers.)

I think that, from the time when we were keeping diaries, we have had trouble knowing ourselves. We have no idea how we sound, we forget what used to be important to us, and we cannot seem to get an outside view of ourselves. Writing things down helped that; we could recall that, at one point, the pants we wore to a party was more important to us than who went to the party. We could view something we wrote a month ago, and realise we were kind of an asshole. We could (maybe) consider whether we were still an asshole. For once, we could step outside our bodies and really get to know ourselves.

I think, over time, we've been developing simpler and simpler ways to do this, and simpler and simpler ways to share it. The act of making it simpler to do makes sense to me, and seems in line with the therapeutic self-improvement the form is meant to accomplish. But the sharing? I'm having trouble deciding why it's so important to people to easily share their thoughts, ideas, feelings, and things that should leave them feeling vulnerable with the world. Why did I challenge myself, not to write every single day, but to make a blog post every day? I can't answer for anyone but me.

I have a history of starting things and never finishing them. A terrible practice I try to get out of at every opportunity. One of the tricks I've learned, over the past few years, is that getting other people involved shames me into doing things. I'm ashamed of myself when I miss a post here. I'm ashamed of myself when I haven't made enough progress on a project other people are working towards. So I think, by sharing our innermost selves with the world, we're pushing ourselves to share more, engage in this therapy more. Writing is work, and even if it's good for us, we still need to get motivation to do it.

Why do you share?

Friday, October 22, 2010

I wish I could give more presentations. I love to present; I generally don't get a full grasp on what I'm doing until I'm standing in front of my audience, giving the presentation. I tend to get feelings, or inklings, or ideas, and just put them together and hope for the best. For example, in a few short minutes, I'm giving a presentation on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. All I have so far is alliteration and this scene from V for Vendetta. No idea what I'm going to do with all that, but I'll be doing something. And I'll figure it out when I get up there.

Presentations, though, are butchered 99% of the time. The group presenting right now (yes, I'm being a bad audience member and blogging while people present) is literally reading their bits off a piece of paper, standing in a line across the front of the room, one at a time. No character, no personality.

In a few weeks, I'll be teaching a class. I know it will be about grammar and essay construction, I know the students will only be allowed to call me Captain (or "Oh Captain my Captain" if they're ambitious), I know I'll be handing them eye-patches as they enter the classroom and informing them that they will be graded on their ability to wear the eye-patch for the entire period, but that's really all I know about that lesson. And it's all I'm likely to know.

Why must people butcher such an art form? A person's attention is valuable. Don't waste it, when they're required to give it to you.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

One of my professors said something interesting to me today, something I've been thinking about a lot in the past couple of weeks. She pointed out that she knows I can be a very good teacher, if I'd only show up. Teachers used to say I'm very smart, if I'd only do my work. Now, they don't even care if I do my work, they just want me to show up. And I still can't even do that.

The problem is, I'm just unreliable. Medication, mental and emotional disorders, a terrible diet, and a sleep schedule that has never been normal all collaborate to make me sleep through classes and work shifts with terrible regularity. If it weren't for this, I could easily be carrying a GPA a full point higher than it is.

But that makes me think. Should I be punished for this? Probably not. I try my hardest, I really do. And days like today, where I fuck up, where I can't seem to be the grown-up everyone really wants me to be, it's hard for me not to come home and just wallow in self-pity. Nobody yelled at me or disciplined me today, but I still feel like a failure, and like I'll never amount to anything. I feel like I'm wasting my potential, because I can do so much, but I can't seem to drag my ass the places it needs to be so I can do things.

But my professor also asked if I'm sure I want to be a teacher. No, no I'm not sure. Not sure at all. I know I love to teach. I know I love English. I know I'm very, very good at both, because I'm a junior in college and barely touch my books, but I consistently score highly in these subjects. But as I get closer to that degree, I'm less and less sure I want it.

I'm not sure I can work within such a defined structure. Our education system sucks, and there's little to nothing I can do to directly fix the issue. That kind of thing always pisses me off, and I'm signing up to deal with it for five days a week until I retire.

My teaching style is very liberal. Like... radically liberal. And I'm starting to doubt that I'll get a teaching job that won't hurt me to do. Because so much of what we have accepted and implemented in our schools today is wrong. Research shows it. Common sense shows it. Our students know it, and we know it. But we don't fix it. Because it's too hard, and because we can't operate within the fucked-up system we have otherwise. So we continue perpetuating a broken system, and the idea of being part of that kills me. But I may not get hired, otherwise.

Of course, many people ask why I'm pursuing teaching instead of computers. And honestly, I don't have a real answer anymore. It used to be that I loved to teach, and doing it as a job didn't hurt that love. Working with computers as a job seems soulless, lifeless, and painful. It would crush me to have something I love so much taken away from me, have its soul stripped away, and then force-fed back to me.

And yet, in about twenty minutes I'm meeting with a friend who wants to incorporate a software company with me. And I'm excited about the idea. And have customers lined up and waiting. And teaching is seeming more and more oppressive, with less room to maneuver.

Honestly, if I weren't three semesters away from a degree, I'd probably switch majors. I just can't see myself becoming normal in time for me to teach.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."
-- Maya Angelou

This quote has been written on my wall for a little over a year now, I imagine. I rather like it, probably because it validates my vague feeling-based judgement of people. People fit a certain mould for me, fall into certain categories, based on feelings and vibes I get from them. Maybe that's weird. Maybe that's not. I don't know.

I've been thinking a bit about this, though. Matt, who I'm sure you'll hear plenty of as this blog continues, only stays in my life because of the way he makes me feel. He does terrible things to me, and generally doesn't treat me well, but he makes me feel better when I'm around him. So I keep putting myself around him.

Sometimes, I wonder how I make people feel. I tend to obsess over it; whether people feel like I'm rude, or unwanted, or not living up to their expectations. It's a constant, nagging fear at the forefront of my mind that makes it really hard for me to be natural in social situations. But I can do it when there's someone there with me, whose feelings towards me I know. It's weird, but having that one other person there gives me the ground to stand on that I need. Without that ground, I just can't... be myself. I don't know why having someone else there that I understand means so much to me, but it does.