Something Sinister

      Hello, I am Alex Wagner. I know I haven't written in a while but that's only because I've been busy putting my life back together. This is different than my previous posts. Most of them are comedic and are about nonsense that doesn't really need to be read. I feel like this post is going to be different. I'm different. Not like I've lost all my humor or anything, it's just that I have changed for the better.  I now have a job, I have good people skills, and I am enrolled in a highly rated high school. But something still isn't right. I don't have a good relationship with God, my little sister is changing in ways that are scaring me. I don't know why, but no matter how much I change myself for the better, I seem to get worse mentally. I'm more angry than ever. Maybe I'm still mad at my mom for not raising me correctly. Or caring. My sister is doing things that are, simply put, terrifying and my mother isn't doing anything. I'm listening to one of my favorite artists(Mansion by NF) as of writing this, and all I want to do is scream and yell along with him as he sings. I'm angry. I'll be back if anything changes.

Fantastic Sam's (Oh! The HORROR!)

 

Alright, blog people, I'm back and slightly better than I was before, so hang on to your eyelashes and read about my experience with the people at Fantastic Sam's.

To be perfectly honest, I never thought I would ever become one of those people who must go to the hair salon to get their hair cut. I have always been the guy who grew his hair out to "cousin it" levels and then maybe get a haircut if I was in the neighborhood. Maybe. Probably. Most likely not. But, I have become one of those people who must have their hair a certain way, or else no one should look at me ever.

 

 

The thought of having every single one of my academic peers silently judge me, (They do judge me! I know it! They're always watching me!) is enough for me to regularly get a haircut. Now, this may seem completely insane, but... I'm pretty sure the people at Fantastic Sam's HATE MY GUTS. While I have no quote-on-quote "real" evidence, to prove this theory, I do have their behavior. Whenever I walk in, I feel like a peacock just strolled in with three machetes and a lit fire-cracker. Every single one of the hair stylist's heads turn for at least two seconds to see the magnificent beast that is, me.

 

 

Now in those two seconds, they have sized me up, they know I don't actually want to be there, and that I would much rather just jump into a wood chipper and hope that the only thing cut was my hair. All of them then look back at each other, all collectively deciding that they do not want to deal with me as a customer. I walk up to the front desk to tell her what I want (Which mind you, I have no idea if that's actually how I'm supposed to do it.) I always say...

 

 

Okay well maybe not exactly, but that's the gist of it. I then proceed to sit down and stare into space as I feel that is the only thing interesting to look at besides the hair magazines. (And I respect myself just enough to not look at them and keep my manhood intact.) A few moments later a woman who is probably having just as bad of a time as me walks up and says that I should come with her. (Come to think of it, in any other situation, I probably should've shouted "STRANGER DANGER!" and ran away.) I pull out my phone and show her the picture of me before I looked like a walking mop. She glances at the photo and then sits me down. Then she'll ask me if "one" was used on the side of my hair in the picture, I always say yes. Most of the time hoping that "one" isn't salon talk for "You have now given me your consent to drill a hole through your head. (It almost never happens.) But I sit down and the lady who just wants to go home tries desperately to make small talk. But I never let it go anywhere.

 

 

Eventually, after painful itches that I'm too polite to address, and the woman yanking on my hair to the point of near tears. I am released back into the wild, with hairs shorter than they were originally, and with an even greater fear of hair stylists. 

 

Alone

Why am I so alone? Is it because of me? Is it because of how I look? What could it be? Am I not worth looking at? I know I am not bad looking, nor am I a terrible person. So why can't I get a girlfriend? The lowest of the low of people have girlfriends, and while those of that caliber attract girls of the same caliber, but it seems like I can't get a girl to be interested in me, let alone hold a conversation that might bloom into a relationship. The girls that do talk to me, get me to think that it might go somewhere, they immediately mention their boyfriends and how great they are. It may be that the girls I am usually around are kind of shallow and baseless while still faithful to their boyfriends. My standards might be high. Or too high, but the girls feel like they are using their boyfriends as a fall back. So they can try out and flirt with boys, and if the boy they are flirting with gets too close, they can force him back with slipping in a small, powerful statement into the conversation. "Oh, one time my boyfriend-" That's all it takes, just a simple mention of another boy can instantly turn a guy away. They can still flirt with this boy they like, but don't have to commit to it. Although it might just be an excuse to keep me away. I am at a point in my adolescence where I desperately want companionship. But alas, no girl will hold a conversation nor even speak to me with interest aside from talking about themselves. Sigh. I just want to know someone new.

School

So it's been quite a while since I last posted here huh? Maybe it's because I just got back into school. As I was originally doing "homeschooling"( A term as loose as the screws in my head.) and after many years of not really doing anything, I have finally been let back into school. I have to say, as much as I would love to say how the entire experience has just made my life exponentially harder, it really hasn't. I still have time to myself, I don't get bullied anymore, (Which was one of the main reasons I left) and I do pretty well for missing five years of regular social and intellectual experiences. Math has became a slight annoyance rather than a giant brick wall that could never be overcome. I still don't know how anyone can have an interest in history though. Even when everything feels just peachy keen, I now have to focus on the other problems. Oh joy.

I've got a lot on my MIND!

Whenever I try to find and excuse for not remembering or not doing something I might use the excuse of "I'm thinking about a lot of stuff!" when in actuality I'm thinking about what it would be like to have a third arm, it's like I am using my new teenage-hood as an excuse to not answer the hard questions.

My New Job

Jobs were something I was originally afraid of getting. It was like the flu or something, If I got it then I thought I would have to ride it through until it was over. Now I have a job and it seems to be slightly invigorating, right now I am in an initiation stage, seeing if I can cut the mustard and work here.

I am working at a retro video and card game cafe and I work in their retro games department, ( I work at the end of the counter with the games.) It is a very odd place, and it doesn't seem like the best place to work, there is no room behind the counters, nothing is organized, almost nobody comes in to buy, and the back room is a mess, but for some reason I keep coming back. Maybe its the friendliness, maybe its the job itself. But for whatever reason I just like it here. It's my dream job, I get to stand around almost all day and sell video games to people who appreciate them as much as I do. It's just a nice place to get away from most of my problems. PART 2 COMING SOON

Punishment

There are some things I don't understand about punishments. I have never said that they didn't work, but they sometimes don't make much sense. For instance, the classic "You don't get any dessert tonight." after you took a cookie before dinner. I never understood how that was supposed to teach me not to take a cookie before dinner, I still had eaten the cookie, and not having one after dinner just meant that I wasn't going to get a second cookie.

It just seems illogical to punish me with going without something I already had. Sure a lot of kids see this as going without, but I have always seen it as something that just didn't add up. But that doesn't mean I never learned my lesson when it came to other types of punishments. The classic "go to your room and think about what you've done!" always got to me. I am a very emotional person and when I am told to think about what I've done, all that I can think of doing is to sit in a corner and think about how I am a terrible person and that I should just go die in a hole.

So in short, I have told a lot about myself and a lot about bull crap punishments.