Michael Moiseyev's Journal
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Michael Moiseyev's LiveJournal:
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| Monday, October 15th, 2007 | | 3:48 am |
Decision Theory
Once while I quietly, thoughtfully strode, There had appeared a fork in the road Out to my left stretched a path full of dust While on the right was a track of more trust. That was the story I gloatingly told As I explained why leftwards I strolled Wise, nonconformist and brave I must be, Though you would never hear it from me. Truth is, I barely remember a fork Or how I wound up lost like a dork Or why the hell I had come to New York Probably school, or possibly work. Hindsight brings reason to random choices Justified by tones in our voices So it must be, and I'll take it as such; Logic: my love, my life and my crutch. | | Sunday, May 6th, 2007 | | 9:50 pm |
| | Saturday, May 5th, 2007 | | 6:53 pm |
| | Thursday, April 26th, 2007 | | 3:12 am |
( Frame 11 )Thus concludes Chapter 1: Voices from the past. Stay tuned for the next exciting edition of "The Adventures of Algebrat!" tentatively titled Chapter 2: Paving up the plot holes. | | 1:33 am |
| | Tuesday, April 24th, 2007 | | 9:37 pm |
| | 8:16 pm |
| | Wednesday, January 17th, 2007 | | 7:34 pm |
If you keep it all inside, you get constopated.
Once upon a while, there come those days When a pretty girl seems to look my way, And I look back at her with impunity, And debate restraint vs opportunity. So I ask myself, could I be her friend? Will I hold her hand in the very end? Or am I just being unrealistic, Fatalistically pessimistic? Not every hope will lead to a dream Not all things should be taken to their extreme Not all flings should lead to a double suicide Part of life is fate, but for the most part you decide. Instinct drives us to foolish aims Drama thrives on our childish games Poems on this topic grow like weeds, After all, we all love to hate the hate that love breeds. Needs will invariably be met Some will settle for what they can get I, however, will labor on Past all the duckings and the swans Let all the girls that look my way Settle for friendship and elsewhere play. 'Tis my sweet inspiration that I wish to marry; My on-line rhyming dictionary. | | Wednesday, October 4th, 2006 | | 4:33 pm |
Challange
I've got a scalene triangle on my shoulders, And my friend is carrying a trapezoid. I've gotta stem the tide 'till it washes over, And build back the castle walls that time destroyed. When the nights were longer and our legs were stronger, I remember singing 'till our our voice grew thin. I remember laughing, I remember dreaming, And what I've forgotten, you can well fill in. your turn... Edit: see if you can keep it 12-11. | | Friday, September 22nd, 2006 | | 5:25 pm |
NYC
All in all, my first month here has been pretty easy. Wouldn't be the first time I've said that, of course. School is interesting. I haven't read this much in a while. My classes are: Intro to Public Affairs Economics & Public Policy Research Methods & Analysis Budgeting & Financial Analysis I also work part time as a research assistant with the survey unit. This past week, it's been more interesting that I expected it to be. I'm looking for response trends in a failed survey, so that my boss can put together a report on why hardly anyone completed this thing. Not surprisingly, emails to gmail users are an order of magnitude more likely to be answered than emails to aol users. I promised quite a few people back in Pittsburgh that I'd do something useful out here. Right now, the goal is to get a policy analyst job with NYC's office of labor relations. I'd really like to eventually work for the US department of labor, but I'm not getting ahead of myself this time. I'd be quite happy to finish the degree, get a permanent job and pay off my college loans. Hopefully my posts will be more frequent and funny in the future. I pretty much drained myself for the rest of the day with one attempt at a dead elephant joke. Seriously kids, if you're ever not feeling right about getting married, don't tell yourself that you can always get divorced later. It doesn't seem to ever stop sucking. | | Monday, July 17th, 2006 | | 12:11 am |
I'm finishing up my year in Pittsburgh fairly soon. Work is still exhausting and infuriating, but I've found a good measure of success. Knowing that I'm leaving soon makes it easier to burn out and enjoy it. I'm going to CUNY - Baruch College for a Masters in Public Administration. My parents found me a cheap place in the Bronx through some family friend. The current plan after I finish school is to intern in NYC, then work as a congressional staffer for a while (or anything in legislative analysis that I can find in DC), then peace corps. I don't feel guilty about Yuliya. I feel guilty about getting paid more than my coworkers, so I spend the extra money on food and supplies for the crew. I feel guilty about not calling my grandmother enough, so when I do call her I apologize and stay on the phone for a couple of hours. This situation is past something I can feel guilty, or angry or sad about. I just feel numb. It permeates everything I do, every single day. Letting go means watching a part of yourself slowly die. I honestly don't know if it'll actually get better. In case it does, I keep on truckin'. | | Wednesday, March 1st, 2006 | | 1:22 am |
Update
I'm still working at the canvassing place. They've made me a field manager, apparently by virtue of the fact that I can pull the 11 hour days without a visible nervous breakdown. I like the political organizing, playing with maps and taking out crews. I hate the bullshit. The organization is run by professional fundraisers (mercifully our office isn't doing any of that yet), and the mentality they bring is cut-throat and inhumane. And useless to the task at hand, but it's the only way they know how to do it. So half the office lingers on the verge of being fired over failing to come up with membershipo recruitment quota. Which would be cute if this were a part time gig through college, but most of my coworkers are grown men and women who have dedicated their lives to fighting progressive causes. And need to make rent next month. I don't know what bothers me more, humiliating myself in front of strangers to push my numbers high enough to bail people out, or getting so tired that I just stop caring. Other than that, things are on track if I wish them to be. Presumably more to come. | | Sunday, December 25th, 2005 | | 5:11 am |
You're not the boss of me
The phrase is tired and overused, especially by my sister, but said with the right indignant flare it still has its charm. Also, she is old enough to make her own decisions and is not to be told what to do. Hence opening her presents by herself in a dark living room at 3:30 in the morning falls into the category of personal life choices that I may not trample upon. I like to think that my ensuing lecture taught her the meaning of respect and family appreciation, but realistically I am at best fostering in her the skills of appeasement towards a larger foe. Ah well, useful non the less. In other news, life goes on whether or not I want it to. | | Sunday, December 11th, 2005 | | 9:01 pm |
An update
I live in Shadyside nowdays. I work for a political activism group called Working America, an affiliate of the AFL-CIO. The job is hard and takes up all of my time, but most of the people at work are cool and I'm getting back into the swing of local politics. If I get a promotion, I'm sticking with this type of work for at least another year. If I don't, I'm going back to school for an MS in maybe PoliSci, Public Policy, Law, or Foreign Affairs. Next semester, I'm intending to generally be around more. Tommorow is going to suck. And Bill, for the love of god, put mlordm to rest. | | Wednesday, September 28th, 2005 | | 11:35 pm |
I was so young and vestal then
It looks like I'll be coming down to Pittsburgh again this weekend. Most people I know there are on LJ. So it would make sense to make some sort of a public LJ post to simplify things. Except that I don't quite know where to start. Well, I moved back in with my parents about a month ago. Also, before I offend anyone, I may be somewhat hostile to the suggestion that I should feel better. I'm as fine as I care to be. Hugs really ought to be reserved for people who've had less say over the situation. That about sums up everything I don't wish to discuss at length with all but a handful of people who are highly familiar with the details. Wow, that whole post was... cold. Comfortably so, seeing as how I hate you all. Vote Moiseyev. Current Mood: Temporary SanityCurrent Music: Tool - Prison Sex | | Thursday, January 27th, 2005 | | 2:48 am |
| | Monday, December 27th, 2004 | | 11:28 pm |
My weary feet have brought me back to the hills of Pittsburgh. I appear to have a scant few phone numbers, and with the added handicap of most people having left for break, I am having some difficulty tracking down anyone ripe for the chilling with. So as terrible of an idea as this will probably turn out to be, if you're reading this, you are probably good enough to have this: 412-952-6217. Find me, if such is your prerogative. | | Sunday, December 12th, 2004 | | 10:32 pm |
3
Last night, I spent several hours letting a flirty conversation with a girl I might like degenerate into wrestling on the floor until her roommates kicked us out. We ended up at my place, carrying on until we stopped and kissed for the first time. It was around 2 AM. Not much more happened, but we decided to fall asleep together. This morning, I woke up next to a girl I definitely like. At least it feels like it was this morning. Happy anniversary, girl. Stop pouring water on me. | | Saturday, December 4th, 2004 | | 4:23 am |
It's a small, violent world
At a random party in west philly tonight, I ran into two people I knew from before college. One was an artsy kid that I vaguely remember from 6th and 7th grade, before I had a complete grasp on the English language or my surroundings. The other was actually a pretty good friend in 11th grade, and my other high school friends had made several prior failed attempts to find him. Apparently, I sound and act just like I did 6 years ago, but with significantly more height, beard, and wife than before. I wore my big blue hat. On my way back home, a cab stopped next to me. A guy came out, and asked me why I gotta wear that hat. Another stayed in the cab, laughing. I replied that many of us wear hats. He repeated his query. While I searched for words, I saw him move strangely out of the corner of my eye (I was looking up and away as usual). Then everything jerked, I felt my lenses pop out of my eyeglass frame, and the left side of my face got very warm. "Jesus dude, what the fuck?" was all I managed to get out while I made a grab for a falling lens and the guy ran back into his cab. By the time I looked up, he was slamming the door behind him and yelling at the cabby to go. I was flattered, but then again I did have my wizard staff (random stick I found yesterday) with me. My cheek is a bit swollen and purplish, and my lip appears to have a knuckle-shaped tear in it. No one is going to believe that it wasn't Yuliya. But I am in an overall good mood, just another proud member of this small, violent world. | | Monday, November 22nd, 2004 | | 4:45 pm |
6 months served
The conditions are harsh but bearable. I grow accustomed to the strange, brutal rules. Feeding and sleeping privileges are not denied when the rules are not infracted upon. The forced labor, varying day to day from taking care of dirty dishes and spills I do not recall creating to venturing into the cold November morning on a quest for Baked Lays & a Diet Coke, has grown so familiarly routine as to almost become comfortable. Only the occasional rapes still break my spirit, but if the merciful pattern holds, they will continue growing fewer and farther in between. If I can keep up the good behavior, I may be up for parole in a decade or two. If not, I am non-the-less comforted by the sweet, soothing inevitability of death. Since this option only requires an ax and an alibi, I am already half way there. Love and regards to everyone on the outside, ~Yuliya's better half |
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