Rejection is always hard to take. But I honestly think it's easier to swallow when it pushes you to the ground and kicks dirt in your face, or bitch-slaps you in the hallway before posting compromising pictures of you on the internet.
The worst rejection is courteous and apologetic: "Let's just be friends," or "We regret to inform you," or anything that precedes "gozaimasen." Always formal and polite; as empathetic eyes fall to the floor, rejection begins with an apology, and ends with a half-baked smile, or a forty degree ojigi.
My own fault though. I should have made plans sooner, shouldn't have banked so heavily on the H.I.S. penguin drones, and should have had a backup. It's probably for the better though. Guitar Hero III drops in November--just in time for Christmas with the family.
On one hand, Hidden in Plain View's premature breakup makes their sophomore release a bittersweet one, seeing as the record was released long after they parted ways. Recorded during the band's final hours, Drive-Thru records has given the band a proper send-off with Resolution. And iTunes has given it to me for free. I guess the reminder of their breakup could be a harder pill to swallow--that is, if this cd was rubbish. But it's not. It's awesome.
It's true though--in life, even when it's over, it should end with a bang, and never a whimper. Even at our very worst, I think everyone deserves their own swan song.
It's h-o-t here. All the petite Japanese women hide under sunbrellas and silk arm sleeves, while the suit & tie samurai desperately mop their foreheads in silent protest. But no one says anything. It's life, and life is uncomfortable in the summer. I take solace in knowing other places around the world haven't been so lucky--especially southern Europe, where sweltering citizens attest they are living in a "free sauna from God."
Fuck, that's pretty hot.