I know it's been a long time, but I've been busy as frickin hell.
For one thing, I decided to say "Fuck full time work" and just milk the taxpayers by reaping my unemployment check and working apart time sissie job. So there it is.
Secondly, I've been sick as a dog. Tonight I felt just barely well enough to go out and see some friends. I even decided to contact an old flame, the ever demonic DC.
Except tonight was different. I really threw my guts out there. I believe the conversation went something like this:
DC: So yea, there's something about me you don't know.
ME: Actually, there's something about you, that I've been meaning to tell you. (drunken slur)
DC: What's that?
(JUST then, the music dies down and all you hear are the clangs of empty glasses hitting an oak tabletop)
ME: Well, it's going ot have to wait, because I was going to say it while the music was playing. Now everyone can hear what I'm saying.
(As if the bartender heard me, the music roars up again)
DC: So what were you going to say? :: keep in mind, she fails to make eye contact the entire time:::
ME: Just that... well.
DC: What??
ME: You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I've ever met.
Long pause.
Seriously, this pause was so long, it felt like I was counting. She had a look on her face like she wanted to just kiss the shit out of me, and at the same time, just run for her life. I stopped her before she could.
ME: I know that puts you in an awkward situation, but seriously, DC, but there it is. I really can't stand sitting here much longer without telling you that. And I feel like as much as you push me away, there is definitely a chemistry or something here that can't be denied. And I've done my very fucking best to not come across like a weirdo or a stalker or whatever... and to just enjoy you whenever I possibly can. And I know -- I know that puts you in a bad position because you are so inclined to say no.
I looked at the mirror behind the bar at myself, and then back at her
ME: But I can't let you keep saying no. Not until you stop looking at me like that. Not until you stop being the most beautiful person I've ever met. Not until
And then--- right then
She just kissed me. No tongue, no dirty stuff. Just a long, sweet kiss on the lips. It almost felt like she was trying to shut me up... or maybe a sympathy kiss. But God, I enjoyed it... just like every other kiss I've gotten from her. Just like every kiss I've stolen from her.
It seemed like days before I realized that we were no longer kissing and we were back to just looking at one another
After an even longer pause, DC looked at me, and I knew she was drunk and sick, but there was something swirling around in her eyes. A realization, I think, as though I could see the actual chemistry of it. The storm in her raged.
God, it raged. And so did mine.
We parted with the agreement that I'd call her tomorrow-- and the agreement that she'd answer.
Showing posts with label DC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DC. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Milestones
Pending the completion of the blog about my mission trip to Mexico, which is turning out to be something of an epic, and has yet to be published... this is my 50th post. I only started this blog in December, so I think I've done a pretty good job of coming up with something to say.
However, as Senator Obama put it, the time for change has come. I've been living the last couple of months in a state of bumbling chaos. Each thrilling victory I've experienced leads to a brand new failure of some sort. I've come to realize that every single one, victory or failure, has been under my direct control or supervision. Every effect achieved has had a series of obvious causes... from winning the job with Roark, to completely and utterly failing with DC, who is more or less the woman of my dreams. I can't remember who said it, maybe Bill Cosby or somebody like that, but it reminds me of a quote: "I'm a firm believer in luck. The harder I work, the more of it I seem to have."
Obviously, I haven't been working hard enough. That has got to change. So today, I feel pretty good about my luck since I'm packing for a trip up to Kansas City to work for a group of people that put together trade shows for large corporations and money-heavy organizations. The job is temporary, but I'm told to expect 5 straight days of 12 to 16 hour work shifts. When I come home next tuesday, I'll undoubtedly be changed for better or worse. Better to have a fat check coming my way, or worse for putting my back through a blender of manual labor.
I'm going to try to embrace the experience as a cleansing. A boot camp, even. I have one goal, and one goal only-- to make it through the next five or six days without falling over from exhaustion. No thinking of the future, no regretting the past. Just working. It's going to really suck, but that's probably just what I need right now. Pure, unadulterated hard labor.
I take that back. I probably will be thinking about the future while I'm up there. I'll be thinking about how I'm not going to put so much effort into winning the affections of someone that barely acknowledges my existence. I'm going to think about how to be more independent and reliable.
Anyway, I'll be back in a week or so. Wish me luck. No.... wish me hard work.
However, as Senator Obama put it, the time for change has come. I've been living the last couple of months in a state of bumbling chaos. Each thrilling victory I've experienced leads to a brand new failure of some sort. I've come to realize that every single one, victory or failure, has been under my direct control or supervision. Every effect achieved has had a series of obvious causes... from winning the job with Roark, to completely and utterly failing with DC, who is more or less the woman of my dreams. I can't remember who said it, maybe Bill Cosby or somebody like that, but it reminds me of a quote: "I'm a firm believer in luck. The harder I work, the more of it I seem to have."
Obviously, I haven't been working hard enough. That has got to change. So today, I feel pretty good about my luck since I'm packing for a trip up to Kansas City to work for a group of people that put together trade shows for large corporations and money-heavy organizations. The job is temporary, but I'm told to expect 5 straight days of 12 to 16 hour work shifts. When I come home next tuesday, I'll undoubtedly be changed for better or worse. Better to have a fat check coming my way, or worse for putting my back through a blender of manual labor.
I'm going to try to embrace the experience as a cleansing. A boot camp, even. I have one goal, and one goal only-- to make it through the next five or six days without falling over from exhaustion. No thinking of the future, no regretting the past. Just working. It's going to really suck, but that's probably just what I need right now. Pure, unadulterated hard labor.
I take that back. I probably will be thinking about the future while I'm up there. I'll be thinking about how I'm not going to put so much effort into winning the affections of someone that barely acknowledges my existence. I'm going to think about how to be more independent and reliable.
Anyway, I'll be back in a week or so. Wish me luck. No.... wish me hard work.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Sorting out issues.
When I was in high school, I blogged at least once a week. I wrote in an actual notebook every day. Dry spells were either because so much was happening at once that I had no time to write about it, or nothing was happening at all. In junior year, I had a phenomenal English teacher. He was the first teacher I ever had that showed emotion-- particularly frustration. I was secretly thrilled any time one of the girls caught a verbal beating for talking too much or not paying attention. Hell, Mr. C would go off if he felt like the people in the back weren't taking him seriously enough.
The girls he'd always yell at were never dressed down. They wore high heels and reeked of fruity perfume. They were all beautiful. As much as I hated them, especially one I'll call KB, they came to represent a fantasy I've since had for hooking up with a beautiful girl from a very rich family. On the outside, I hated their stiff upper lips, their clothes-- how adult they all tried to seem, and how no matter what kind of grades they were given, they really never had to worry about making it outside of high school. I hated their privileges. I see some of them today, and they are exactly the same, only fatter.
But inside, I was entranced by KB's curves. Even when she was sitting down, I fell into dopey stares whenever she wore strappy shirts or skirts with slits on the side. I'd draw the outline of her leg, from the hem of her skirt to just past the calf. I shied from detail to keep the drawing ambiguous, should anyone ever see. She also suffered from a hellish case of falling bra-straps... or rather, I suffered. On the rare occasions that she disengaged from her posture, her shoulders gave way to a loose feminine-colored strap, and it would timber to the side of her arm. I had to be careful in these times to make sure that my staring wasn't obvious-- but it probably was anyway. Then, she'd slide a finger under the strap, tilt her shoulder down and saddle it back into place. I'd melt.
My truce with the rich dissolved as soon as the bell rang, and I'd watch in a haze of disdain and lust as she walked out.
I never dated any supremely hot girls in high school. In college, I was engaged and living with my girlfriend for over two years. I wouldn't call her a total babe, but I was sure in love with her. After she and I broke up, hot girls served their purpose. There are times when my interest in one of these beautiful women grows beyond getting sprung. I tend to investigate and stir up possibilities-- and then, for some reason, it gets weird and I lose my cool.
I know what went wrong with DC. When she spent the night at my old apartment with me, I made the assumption that all the things she'd said while we roved around the bed were still valid after sunup. I assumed that her previous reservations were then removed, and we could continue forward. Instead, I was dealt a serious backstepping. The next time I saw her, she made basically every effort to consort with anyone else, especially guys. Was it wrong to feel hurt by this? The sensitive of you will say "Yes! What a bitch!"
But really, I should have known that people do not change overnight, or even change their minds. She is comfortable in her bubble of adoration. She could allow a very discreet tryst, but one governed by her sheer whim. Certainly not one hinged on any mutual desire. Who's to say that such a tryst, even if I were to lower myself to such a thing, would be exclusive? Secret relationships are by their very nature, non-exclusive, otherwise there would be no problem with a guided indiscretion about it.
I'm not saying I'm above having a fuckbuddy. Hell, I'd go for that any day of the week. But that sort of deal only works on conditions... such as, no existing relationships, no expectations, and no cattle prods or two-way dildos. Right now, the no-expectations rule is the one I can't follow. I'm just not wired like that.
For now, I'm just going to let myself occasionally fall into that familiar haze of lusting after form while sneering at fickleness and falsehoods.
The girls he'd always yell at were never dressed down. They wore high heels and reeked of fruity perfume. They were all beautiful. As much as I hated them, especially one I'll call KB, they came to represent a fantasy I've since had for hooking up with a beautiful girl from a very rich family. On the outside, I hated their stiff upper lips, their clothes-- how adult they all tried to seem, and how no matter what kind of grades they were given, they really never had to worry about making it outside of high school. I hated their privileges. I see some of them today, and they are exactly the same, only fatter.
But inside, I was entranced by KB's curves. Even when she was sitting down, I fell into dopey stares whenever she wore strappy shirts or skirts with slits on the side. I'd draw the outline of her leg, from the hem of her skirt to just past the calf. I shied from detail to keep the drawing ambiguous, should anyone ever see. She also suffered from a hellish case of falling bra-straps... or rather, I suffered. On the rare occasions that she disengaged from her posture, her shoulders gave way to a loose feminine-colored strap, and it would timber to the side of her arm. I had to be careful in these times to make sure that my staring wasn't obvious-- but it probably was anyway. Then, she'd slide a finger under the strap, tilt her shoulder down and saddle it back into place. I'd melt.
My truce with the rich dissolved as soon as the bell rang, and I'd watch in a haze of disdain and lust as she walked out.
I never dated any supremely hot girls in high school. In college, I was engaged and living with my girlfriend for over two years. I wouldn't call her a total babe, but I was sure in love with her. After she and I broke up, hot girls served their purpose. There are times when my interest in one of these beautiful women grows beyond getting sprung. I tend to investigate and stir up possibilities-- and then, for some reason, it gets weird and I lose my cool.
I know what went wrong with DC. When she spent the night at my old apartment with me, I made the assumption that all the things she'd said while we roved around the bed were still valid after sunup. I assumed that her previous reservations were then removed, and we could continue forward. Instead, I was dealt a serious backstepping. The next time I saw her, she made basically every effort to consort with anyone else, especially guys. Was it wrong to feel hurt by this? The sensitive of you will say "Yes! What a bitch!"
But really, I should have known that people do not change overnight, or even change their minds. She is comfortable in her bubble of adoration. She could allow a very discreet tryst, but one governed by her sheer whim. Certainly not one hinged on any mutual desire. Who's to say that such a tryst, even if I were to lower myself to such a thing, would be exclusive? Secret relationships are by their very nature, non-exclusive, otherwise there would be no problem with a guided indiscretion about it.
I'm not saying I'm above having a fuckbuddy. Hell, I'd go for that any day of the week. But that sort of deal only works on conditions... such as, no existing relationships, no expectations, and no cattle prods or two-way dildos. Right now, the no-expectations rule is the one I can't follow. I'm just not wired like that.
For now, I'm just going to let myself occasionally fall into that familiar haze of lusting after form while sneering at fickleness and falsehoods.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Drunk, Delirious Blogging
Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm sure the great majority of you have come home from a night of utter chaos-- a night that began with treachery, one filled with tribulation, and ending as a trial-- nay, a testament to how karma can go from kicking your ass to kissing it.
Yep. It was definitely one of those night for me. It all started with DC. You guys know a thing or two about DC. For the astrology buffs, she's a Gemini, and I'm a Capricorn. You know that that mean.s "Oh Boy" usually comes after such a combination. More like "Aw Fuck..."
Anyway, DC said from the get-go that she was in a weird mood. She got into a fight with her roommate-- something to do with her roomie wiping out on a bicycle when said roommate didn't need to be traveling in the first place. Then I managed to quip about how tired DC appeared. DC took that too mean "You think I look like shit." Well, no. A hint for the guys... never, EVER tell a girl she looks tired. She will always take it to mean that you think she looks like she just got shoved into a camel's ass. In any case, not good. Just as I managed to repair that situation, DC decides we need to go meet her friend Shana. Shana is someone I've already met, but I didn't realize that yet. From the beginning, lovely Shana did her best to exclude me from every possible conversation, joke, introduction... EVERYTHING. When DC went to the ladies' room, Shana and I were alone. I figured this would be a perfect time to get to know her and maybe get on her good side. Lucky for me, Shana's very sensitive and I managed to piss her off, sending her into a fit of rage in less than five minutes.
After Shana found DC and left without me, I went where my heart said to go--- the usual place. My bar. THE bar. Lo and Behold, they were there. DC demanded that I apologize to Shana, which I did, successfully. Then DC had to use the ladies room again, and left me sitting there with "T". T proceeded to tell me all about how I need to lighten up and not care what these "bitches" think and to just do my own thing. He actually sat there and tried to tell me how to be a player. Meanwhile, he sat there with this smug look on his face like he knew all about it. Needless to say, I wanted to fucking kill him.
Fast forward. T went ahead and told DC what a big fat douchebag I am, for not being enough of a player, which inspired DC to leave with Shana without so much as a goodbye. Feeling pissed, I was ready to go soon after. My good friend Eddie was with me and as we walked out, T said something to the effect of "Better luck next time, baller." To which I replied that he was a barking dick, and I could care fucking less what he thinks. This created a big mess of T getting in my face and me threatening to rearrange his anatomy.
It finally got settled by some very big people that told him to fuck off and asking me to go home. That's all good and done.
So I'm home, but I'm thinking to myself, FUCK... I really screwed things up with DC. I was sure she'd never talk to me again after hearing what her friend "T" had to say about me.
All of the sudden, my phone starts buzzing. It's her. I answer, and after a brief conversation, find out that T thought I was someone else, that she left because Shana was insanely drunk and couldn't wait any longer to puke somewhere, and that she was definitely still into me.
Key phrase. "Wes, T thought you were trying to get with Shana. That's why he said what he said to you. He has no idea about you and I."
Sometimes, news is delivered in fine print, my friends. DC proceeded to repeat this "You and I" bit a few more times, and assured me I'd be hearing from her tomorrow. Suffice to say, I suppose she still likes me. Even after I pissed off her friend Shana, and almost caved her friend T's face in with my forehead. This is almost as good as the night before, when she kissed me at the bar.
Oh yea--- I almost forgot... this whole post is so fucking gay. What am I, 16? Jeez. Okay, guys-- if you're reading this-- just throw some stuff at me to talk about that's manly and I will rock it out old school. Seriously, I'm open to suggestions. Also... heh... if you knew what DC looked like, you'd totally understand.
Yep. It was definitely one of those night for me. It all started with DC. You guys know a thing or two about DC. For the astrology buffs, she's a Gemini, and I'm a Capricorn. You know that that mean.s "Oh Boy" usually comes after such a combination. More like "Aw Fuck..."
Anyway, DC said from the get-go that she was in a weird mood. She got into a fight with her roommate-- something to do with her roomie wiping out on a bicycle when said roommate didn't need to be traveling in the first place. Then I managed to quip about how tired DC appeared. DC took that too mean "You think I look like shit." Well, no. A hint for the guys... never, EVER tell a girl she looks tired. She will always take it to mean that you think she looks like she just got shoved into a camel's ass. In any case, not good. Just as I managed to repair that situation, DC decides we need to go meet her friend Shana. Shana is someone I've already met, but I didn't realize that yet. From the beginning, lovely Shana did her best to exclude me from every possible conversation, joke, introduction... EVERYTHING. When DC went to the ladies' room, Shana and I were alone. I figured this would be a perfect time to get to know her and maybe get on her good side. Lucky for me, Shana's very sensitive and I managed to piss her off, sending her into a fit of rage in less than five minutes.
After Shana found DC and left without me, I went where my heart said to go--- the usual place. My bar. THE bar. Lo and Behold, they were there. DC demanded that I apologize to Shana, which I did, successfully. Then DC had to use the ladies room again, and left me sitting there with "T". T proceeded to tell me all about how I need to lighten up and not care what these "bitches" think and to just do my own thing. He actually sat there and tried to tell me how to be a player. Meanwhile, he sat there with this smug look on his face like he knew all about it. Needless to say, I wanted to fucking kill him.
Fast forward. T went ahead and told DC what a big fat douchebag I am, for not being enough of a player, which inspired DC to leave with Shana without so much as a goodbye. Feeling pissed, I was ready to go soon after. My good friend Eddie was with me and as we walked out, T said something to the effect of "Better luck next time, baller." To which I replied that he was a barking dick, and I could care fucking less what he thinks. This created a big mess of T getting in my face and me threatening to rearrange his anatomy.
It finally got settled by some very big people that told him to fuck off and asking me to go home. That's all good and done.
So I'm home, but I'm thinking to myself, FUCK... I really screwed things up with DC. I was sure she'd never talk to me again after hearing what her friend "T" had to say about me.
All of the sudden, my phone starts buzzing. It's her. I answer, and after a brief conversation, find out that T thought I was someone else, that she left because Shana was insanely drunk and couldn't wait any longer to puke somewhere, and that she was definitely still into me.
Key phrase. "Wes, T thought you were trying to get with Shana. That's why he said what he said to you. He has no idea about you and I."
Sometimes, news is delivered in fine print, my friends. DC proceeded to repeat this "You and I" bit a few more times, and assured me I'd be hearing from her tomorrow. Suffice to say, I suppose she still likes me. Even after I pissed off her friend Shana, and almost caved her friend T's face in with my forehead. This is almost as good as the night before, when she kissed me at the bar.
Oh yea--- I almost forgot... this whole post is so fucking gay. What am I, 16? Jeez. Okay, guys-- if you're reading this-- just throw some stuff at me to talk about that's manly and I will rock it out old school. Seriously, I'm open to suggestions. Also... heh... if you knew what DC looked like, you'd totally understand.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Non's Big Day!
After what seemed to be an evening filled with fruition regarding DC, which kept me up until almost 3:00 AM, I woke up 3 minutes after my alarm was supposed to go off. I set it for 10:15AM last night, amidst the cinema of what had just happened playing in my head. It's very possible I simply forgot to actually turn the alarm on, and only set the time for it.
Anyway, when I first met DC, she was volatile-- creating offenses out of thin air and prosecuting me for them. She'd declare my latest statement as "really stupid" and then just walk away. Usually she went home, but if she really wanted to burn me, she'd just go flirt with another guy. I can't say it didn't work, because it just made me want her more. Not to mention punch the daylights out of the guy she chose to flirt with. And then run.
Now, she's not so skittish. Anytime she says, "I think I'm gonna go," I just reply with, "Like hell you are!" and tug her back into arm's length. The first time I did this, I was pretty sure I'd end up getting my goatee smacked off. Turns out, she digs that kind of thing. So I made sure to pepper every evening we spent together with at least one forceful movement. Sometimes I just plucked her from the path she was walking and made her walk closer to me. Sometimes when she'd get pissy, I'd just get pissy right back and say, "Shut up and listen to me."
It's not mean, because it always gives her this silly grin that makes me want to swoon her. And I always smile right back. But enough of that sappy romantic crap. My main thing is trying to get her to hang out with me earlier in the evening so that I don't get calls from my sister or whoever while she issucking my soul out kissing my neck. I think that's probably too much detail. Not sure. Maybe you guys can let me know if I'm giving tmi.
Anyway, reeling from the success of last night-- I figured today was going to be a flop. That's usually how it works with my luck. I'm certainly in Karma's constant cross hairs. Something good happens, then I eat shit the next day. Like I said, I got up at 10ish this morning and took a ride to the DMV to get a new driver's license. I was only there for 15 minutes, which is a record for them. Then, after being told it would take up to two hours doing work at the unemployment office, I was catered to by the director and it only took one hour. Snazzy shit! Also, I found out what I qualify for in benefits, and I'm definitely stoked. I can work about 20 hours a week and still collect all my unemployment. Part-time job, here I come. Say 'hello' to assisted living, so to speak.
Then, after I finished up at the unemployment office, I found out the landlord of the place I wanted is going to work with me on stretching rent out so I can move in first. It will be so nice to live in a house that is at least 100 feet from any potential redneck, potbellied Jeds or people with a surname as their last names. See you later, Daniel Dave! Woooooie!
And like I said, the place is the shizzle. I'll include pictures in my next post of the props once we get settled in and make that place our bitch.
And, just so you know, I already made the how-to on saving money at the bar, I just don't want to post it until closer to the weekend. So stay tuned.
Anyway, when I first met DC, she was volatile-- creating offenses out of thin air and prosecuting me for them. She'd declare my latest statement as "really stupid" and then just walk away. Usually she went home, but if she really wanted to burn me, she'd just go flirt with another guy. I can't say it didn't work, because it just made me want her more. Not to mention punch the daylights out of the guy she chose to flirt with. And then run.
Now, she's not so skittish. Anytime she says, "I think I'm gonna go," I just reply with, "Like hell you are!" and tug her back into arm's length. The first time I did this, I was pretty sure I'd end up getting my goatee smacked off. Turns out, she digs that kind of thing. So I made sure to pepper every evening we spent together with at least one forceful movement. Sometimes I just plucked her from the path she was walking and made her walk closer to me. Sometimes when she'd get pissy, I'd just get pissy right back and say, "Shut up and listen to me."
It's not mean, because it always gives her this silly grin that makes me want to swoon her. And I always smile right back. But enough of that sappy romantic crap. My main thing is trying to get her to hang out with me earlier in the evening so that I don't get calls from my sister or whoever while she is
Anyway, reeling from the success of last night-- I figured today was going to be a flop. That's usually how it works with my luck. I'm certainly in Karma's constant cross hairs. Something good happens, then I eat shit the next day. Like I said, I got up at 10ish this morning and took a ride to the DMV to get a new driver's license. I was only there for 15 minutes, which is a record for them. Then, after being told it would take up to two hours doing work at the unemployment office, I was catered to by the director and it only took one hour. Snazzy shit! Also, I found out what I qualify for in benefits, and I'm definitely stoked. I can work about 20 hours a week and still collect all my unemployment. Part-time job, here I come. Say 'hello' to assisted living, so to speak.
Then, after I finished up at the unemployment office, I found out the landlord of the place I wanted is going to work with me on stretching rent out so I can move in first. It will be so nice to live in a house that is at least 100 feet from any potential redneck, potbellied Jeds or people with a surname as their last names. See you later, Daniel Dave! Woooooie!
And like I said, the place is the shizzle. I'll include pictures in my next post of the props once we get settled in and make that place our bitch.
And, just so you know, I already made the how-to on saving money at the bar, I just don't want to post it until closer to the weekend. So stay tuned.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Jizzob
So far, I've applied to a grocery store, a landscaping company, a pizza place, an upscale burger joint, an advertising factory for high school sports calenders, and most recently, a butchery. Oh yea, don't let me forget the sub delivery shop. Speaking of which, I need to call them. Like now.
*five minutes later* Well, the dude wasn't there, as usual. Oh well.
Tonight, I feast with my family. My mom finally closed on her condo today and she wants to take us out to celebrate. This will basically amount to her making snide comments about my joblessness and Sister's educational progress, in exchange for a free restaurant meal. It's not a bad trade, only, I wish we could go somewhere that has TV's at eye-level so I can at least appear as though I'm looking in my mother's direction while I watch a ballgame. Everyone has tv's up on the rafters, requiring me to crane my neck like I'm watching a plane go by. It's a little obvious, and my mother hates it. I also hate it when I fart or something and she goes "WES!" and acts embarrassed. It's gas. People get over it. Okay, maybe that's a little rude. I try to keep the air currents to a minimum, but it's hard when every place she likes to eat loads their food with cheese or fries everything in the same vat of peanut oil. Sheesh.
So once we're done eating, I almost always have ESS (expanding stomach syndrome), and the only remedy is several tablets of Rolaids and at least an hour of TV without my mom starting every sentence with, "What are you going to do about: ________?" Of course that never happens, so really, the act of eating in itself is the only good part.
Anywho, I'm gonna see what's up with DC tonight. I almost hung out last night but I decided since I didn't have any moola, to just stay in and not drink copious amounts of cranberry juice. I think it should be a little easier tonight since I've actually got some change in my jeans.
Yea, that's all, I think.
*five minutes later* Well, the dude wasn't there, as usual. Oh well.
Tonight, I feast with my family. My mom finally closed on her condo today and she wants to take us out to celebrate. This will basically amount to her making snide comments about my joblessness and Sister's educational progress, in exchange for a free restaurant meal. It's not a bad trade, only, I wish we could go somewhere that has TV's at eye-level so I can at least appear as though I'm looking in my mother's direction while I watch a ballgame. Everyone has tv's up on the rafters, requiring me to crane my neck like I'm watching a plane go by. It's a little obvious, and my mother hates it. I also hate it when I fart or something and she goes "WES!" and acts embarrassed. It's gas. People get over it. Okay, maybe that's a little rude. I try to keep the air currents to a minimum, but it's hard when every place she likes to eat loads their food with cheese or fries everything in the same vat of peanut oil. Sheesh.
So once we're done eating, I almost always have ESS (expanding stomach syndrome), and the only remedy is several tablets of Rolaids and at least an hour of TV without my mom starting every sentence with, "What are you going to do about: ________?" Of course that never happens, so really, the act of eating in itself is the only good part.
Anywho, I'm gonna see what's up with DC tonight. I almost hung out last night but I decided since I didn't have any moola, to just stay in and not drink copious amounts of cranberry juice. I think it should be a little easier tonight since I've actually got some change in my jeans.
Yea, that's all, I think.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Something's Off
Big changes indeed. Jeez, what a year 2007 was. I seemed to have turned my foot into swiss cheese after shooting it so many times. What do they say? The World Is My Oyster? I'm not too sure if that's accurate, because I can't seem to get the damn shells to open.
I'm not huge on being sentimental, but I enjoy the occasional trip down memory lane. Here are some of the biggest memories I have of 2007.
1. In February, I got a job at the newspaper-- a real one-- and kept it for just over 9 months. Even though the ending was a fucking fiasco, there are only two things I'll miss about that job. The friends I made, and the money. Yes, in that order.
2. March 2007 was the first year I ever contemplated suicide. I had been so royally screwed over by my ex and made a fool of that I really just wanted to end my life. It was shameful, embarrassing, maddening, all of the above. But soon after, I got over it. The weak bonds I had with friends either became very strong or were shattered. I suppose that's how it goes.
3. Over the course of 2007, I moved (and I'm about to move again) four times. I went from living alone, to living with a coworker, to living with my sister-- which has created a bond between us that I don't think existed before other than being simply related.
4. I got really really out of shape in 2007. All the drinking, late night meals, and sleeping late created an environment that allowed my body to shape-shift from the lean, fit guy I started out as, into a husky guy with a bit of a beer belly. Not that I'm overly concerned about my looks. I still look damn sexy. Just kidding. Anyway, I definitely see that changing in the first parts of 2008.
5. I realized (toward the end) that I wanted to finish school. How I'm going to get back in, and by what means I'll use to pay for it is to be determined, but I'll figure it out.
Anyway, enough sentimentality. Sis and I found a cool house to live in and we plan to rock it out, old-school. I've got to get over the whole not having dates over at my place thing. I haven't had a girl come to my place since 2006. Yikes. Mainly, it's because I always felt weird about having girls over when I live with my sister. Other girls get a vibe that tends to igg them out a little when they know the dude's sister is in the other room. Especially if there's shagging goin on. Yea baby! Anyway, when we move into the house, I'm going to be PROUD of living there-- not avoiding it like a cell phone bill. I also want to get my car fixed, and be proud of it too. God knows I walk enough.
So that should be all for now. Next time, I'll set you guys up with a nice little report on how to have fun at a bar, el-cheapo-style.
I'll also tell you what's going on with DC and JR. In a nutshell, JR and I decided to just be friends, while DC and I spent some time together last night. That was really fun-- except tonight her roommates came back, and they're her "posse". She's a totally different animal around those two.
I'm not huge on being sentimental, but I enjoy the occasional trip down memory lane. Here are some of the biggest memories I have of 2007.
1. In February, I got a job at the newspaper-- a real one-- and kept it for just over 9 months. Even though the ending was a fucking fiasco, there are only two things I'll miss about that job. The friends I made, and the money. Yes, in that order.
2. March 2007 was the first year I ever contemplated suicide. I had been so royally screwed over by my ex and made a fool of that I really just wanted to end my life. It was shameful, embarrassing, maddening, all of the above. But soon after, I got over it. The weak bonds I had with friends either became very strong or were shattered. I suppose that's how it goes.
3. Over the course of 2007, I moved (and I'm about to move again) four times. I went from living alone, to living with a coworker, to living with my sister-- which has created a bond between us that I don't think existed before other than being simply related.
4. I got really really out of shape in 2007. All the drinking, late night meals, and sleeping late created an environment that allowed my body to shape-shift from the lean, fit guy I started out as, into a husky guy with a bit of a beer belly. Not that I'm overly concerned about my looks. I still look damn sexy. Just kidding. Anyway, I definitely see that changing in the first parts of 2008.
5. I realized (toward the end) that I wanted to finish school. How I'm going to get back in, and by what means I'll use to pay for it is to be determined, but I'll figure it out.
Anyway, enough sentimentality. Sis and I found a cool house to live in and we plan to rock it out, old-school. I've got to get over the whole not having dates over at my place thing. I haven't had a girl come to my place since 2006. Yikes. Mainly, it's because I always felt weird about having girls over when I live with my sister. Other girls get a vibe that tends to igg them out a little when they know the dude's sister is in the other room. Especially if there's shagging goin on. Yea baby! Anyway, when we move into the house, I'm going to be PROUD of living there-- not avoiding it like a cell phone bill. I also want to get my car fixed, and be proud of it too. God knows I walk enough.
So that should be all for now. Next time, I'll set you guys up with a nice little report on how to have fun at a bar, el-cheapo-style.
I'll also tell you what's going on with DC and JR. In a nutshell, JR and I decided to just be friends, while DC and I spent some time together last night. That was really fun-- except tonight her roommates came back, and they're her "posse". She's a totally different animal around those two.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Doo bee dooo!
I'm kinda shitfaced right now, but luckily I wrote this blog about 6 hours ago just in case this would happen. Here it goes:kl
The job hunt continues, but I have several leads. It's really just a matter of getting off my fat ass and making things happen. Ideally, I would work for the place Alex was talking about temporarily, cleaning offices. I like this potential job since the hours are from 5-11pm, and I'd never work saturday nights.
I'd also like to get a job working some low-wage food service. I know-- you guys are thinking, "Why the hell would you do that when you are obviously possess superior intellect and qualifications?" Well, the fact is, I want one job where I can make 8-10 bucks an hour and use that to pay bills... and another job where I have the opportunity to make cash every time I work (tips). If I limit money made from the hourly job to JUST needs, and tip money for wants (booze and women) then I will have successfully managed my income priorities.
If anyone is wondering how things are going with Awesome, then let's just say she has been indefinitely downgraded back to being called "JR". The main reason for this is that 1. On New Year's Eve, she invited me over to crash after I was hanging out with my friends, and when I got there (friends dropped me off) she left me out to dry. It was roughly 30 degrees outside, and I had no choice but to walk back to the party, about a mile away. It was a brisk walk, at least. I could have called some other friends, but really, on NYE, who's going to risk that? I didn't want to put that burden on anyone I knew.
The other thing is that last night, I spent the evening with JR, and I asked her if she wanted to go see a movie and get some coffee. She declined, preferring to just stay in and watch a video. So we did that, and then went to bed. It wasn't so bad, except she woke me up at 8am (we went to bed around 1:30am) and wanted to get coffee right then. So I get up and stumble into my clothes. Being the warm morning person I am---NOT---- I was sure to express my gratitude by chugging a Negra Modelo from her fridge when she wasn't looking. Yum yum. Perks you right up, baby.
So as I'm walking out the door with her, she stops before coming out and says, "I think I'll meet you there."
"Uh... okay. Do you have to be somewhere later?"
"No, I just want to take my car." but not with you in it
Since it was at least 10 degrees outside, I sat in my car as it warmed up. I wondered why she wouldn't want to go together-- and right as the snotdrop coming out of my nose froze solid, I realized it was probably for the same reason she didn't want to go out last night, either. So to test it, I decided to just go home and hang out for a bit, shower, change, etc. If she called me up asking where I was, then she really did want to hang out. If not, she'd be too embarrassed to call in front of everyone she knows at the coffee shop, since she also works there, therefore proving my realization after all.
whateh eff....
Anyway, I ended up going over about 45 minutes later and she was there, reading some magazine. Not even a glance. Fine. You want to keep it chill when I marathon your ass the previous evening, but if this is fear of PDA, then that's a little much. So I ignored her right back. Did a xword, drank some coffee, had a smoke, and left. She hasn't called to ask where I am, so as far as I know, I'm off the hook.
As I drove to my mom's place to raid her fridge, I noticed I had a missed call from DC at about 12:30 AM last night. I ignored it, and proceeded with my day. Stay away from the Devil Woman, I thought.
Then DC called again-- very uncharacteristic of her, considering she has HGADD, which stands for Hot Girl Attention Deficit Disorder. In other words, she's batty. Anyway, I answered, and she asked me to call her later when I go out. We'll see about that.
So that's an update of my exploits, but I want to finish up with a few resolutions.
And they will be finished tomorrow. So... tune in.
The job hunt continues, but I have several leads. It's really just a matter of getting off my fat ass and making things happen. Ideally, I would work for the place Alex was talking about temporarily, cleaning offices. I like this potential job since the hours are from 5-11pm, and I'd never work saturday nights.
I'd also like to get a job working some low-wage food service. I know-- you guys are thinking, "Why the hell would you do that when you are obviously possess superior intellect and qualifications?" Well, the fact is, I want one job where I can make 8-10 bucks an hour and use that to pay bills... and another job where I have the opportunity to make cash every time I work (tips). If I limit money made from the hourly job to JUST needs, and tip money for wants (booze and women) then I will have successfully managed my income priorities.
If anyone is wondering how things are going with Awesome, then let's just say she has been indefinitely downgraded back to being called "JR". The main reason for this is that 1. On New Year's Eve, she invited me over to crash after I was hanging out with my friends, and when I got there (friends dropped me off) she left me out to dry. It was roughly 30 degrees outside, and I had no choice but to walk back to the party, about a mile away. It was a brisk walk, at least. I could have called some other friends, but really, on NYE, who's going to risk that? I didn't want to put that burden on anyone I knew.
The other thing is that last night, I spent the evening with JR, and I asked her if she wanted to go see a movie and get some coffee. She declined, preferring to just stay in and watch a video. So we did that, and then went to bed. It wasn't so bad, except she woke me up at 8am (we went to bed around 1:30am) and wanted to get coffee right then. So I get up and stumble into my clothes. Being the warm morning person I am---NOT---- I was sure to express my gratitude by chugging a Negra Modelo from her fridge when she wasn't looking. Yum yum. Perks you right up, baby.
So as I'm walking out the door with her, she stops before coming out and says, "I think I'll meet you there."
"Uh... okay. Do you have to be somewhere later?"
"No, I just want to take my car." but not with you in it
Since it was at least 10 degrees outside, I sat in my car as it warmed up. I wondered why she wouldn't want to go together-- and right as the snotdrop coming out of my nose froze solid, I realized it was probably for the same reason she didn't want to go out last night, either. So to test it, I decided to just go home and hang out for a bit, shower, change, etc. If she called me up asking where I was, then she really did want to hang out. If not, she'd be too embarrassed to call in front of everyone she knows at the coffee shop, since she also works there, therefore proving my realization after all.
whateh eff....
Anyway, I ended up going over about 45 minutes later and she was there, reading some magazine. Not even a glance. Fine. You want to keep it chill when I marathon your ass the previous evening, but if this is fear of PDA, then that's a little much. So I ignored her right back. Did a xword, drank some coffee, had a smoke, and left. She hasn't called to ask where I am, so as far as I know, I'm off the hook.
As I drove to my mom's place to raid her fridge, I noticed I had a missed call from DC at about 12:30 AM last night. I ignored it, and proceeded with my day. Stay away from the Devil Woman, I thought.
Then DC called again-- very uncharacteristic of her, considering she has HGADD, which stands for Hot Girl Attention Deficit Disorder. In other words, she's batty. Anyway, I answered, and she asked me to call her later when I go out. We'll see about that.
So that's an update of my exploits, but I want to finish up with a few resolutions.
And they will be finished tomorrow. So... tune in.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Good Timing
Part 1.
Perspective: I'm sitting on my chair listening to Johnny Cash's "I Walk The Line". This song goes further for me than I ever would have expected when I first listened to it. As I sit in my kinda-shabby apartment, watching Sister's cats body slam each other, I think of the last couple of nights. A girl heretofore to be known as JB hit on me. Hard Core. I realized this ridiculous circumstance mainly because JB (a figment in my life) decided to tell me that she was up for grabs, and all I had to do was call her and she was there for the taking.. The problem? I'm not a manwhore. The other problem? How could I meaningfully be pursuing DC if I took the easy out and got laid with JB?
My dilemma is simple. There's a girl I could have had in a heartbeat if I so chose, meanwhile, a girl that treats me like shit that I've been chasing since June.
What a fucking minute. I have DC blowing me off every chance she gets, meanwhile, there's another chick saying, "Here. I'm yours. Come and get it." People who know me really well know that I hate the absence of challenge. I have mixed feelings when a super-drunk girl hits on me, even if she knows me well. Obviously, there's the initial "Hell yea!" at being wanted in the first place, especially for something like an easy sexcapade. But the thing that kept me from going for it was only PARTLY about DC. It was more about me thinking, this cannot be the product of months and months of going out to the bars and being "Me". So I stop. I think about it. I listen to myself. Here's what myself was saying:
JB made me realize two things with her drunken attempt to sack me. First, she made me realize that with my current behavior, IE, drinking and being a bar rat, only someone who knew me well enough to know that I would probably turn them dow-- and only if that person was drunk as fuck would possibly make me an offer like that.
Yea, that's not depressing at all. Secondly, JB made me realize that the first thing that came to mind as she offered all these things was the thought of someone who had been treating me like CRAP finding out about me taking up her offer, and losing my chances completely.
Wow. Can anyone say PATHETIC?
So in one fell swoop, I decided to walk the line. Goodbye, JB. Goodbye, DC. I don't need you any less than you need me, and that's a promise.
Part 2.
Perspective: I'm sitting on my couch in my crappy apartment listening to Matchbox 20. The song is "Unwell". It's a good song for feeling like no one understands the craziness you're going through, or feeling inside. Lately, I've been taking odd jobs working as the UnBouncer (unofficial) for several places. Taking out my aggressions on people who've been deemed unbarworthy, and I get to escort them out the door. It's been a good outlet. I get to feel like the big man, and I don't have to explain my meanness to anyone. If I see them again and they call me out-- hey-- I was just doing my job (at the time).
Just as I decided that DC was out for good, I went to the coffee shop today and wondered how JR was doing. I texted her and asked if she'd like to grab a cup with me. She called me back and said she was in the middle of cleaning her apartment, but if I wanted to drop by with some coffee, that'd be good.
Side Note: I dated JR for two months last year, starting in November 06 and ending in early January 07. Our breakup was quiet for me, but noisy for her. Having said that, I've regretted walking away ever since, and I still think about our time together as a couple, even if there wasn't really a name for it.
I decided to grab a paper and stick it into my bag before heading over with coffee. When I arrived, I pulled out the paper and located the crossword puzzles, which she and I spent a very quiet 30 minutes solving. Suddenly she realized we needed to go to Hobby Lobby to grab more Christmas gift stuff, so we went there. I drove. The evening was slowly evolving into a date. Things were going well. There were flirtations, reminiscences of past dates, trips, and good times, and so on. She made whole wheat angel hair pasta with home-made pesto sauce. I gotta tell ya, it was really good. I don't know if I was just REALLY freaking hungry, or if I was just happy to be in her company again, but that felt like the best home-cooked meal I've had since T-day. Schnazzas! yow.
After the meal, I asked her if she wanted to go see the Christmas lights at the square. She looked at me very suspiciously, (which I confirmed with a sneaky grin) and reluctantly (maybe just hesitantly) agreed. I kept thinking to myself if I stop smiling, I'm going to frown for the rest of the night, because I'm so damn sure that my plans are going to get shot to hell. My plan? Go for the walk with the lights, let the romance set in, then lay it out there. Then ask if she has plans for NYE, and if not, ask her out.
Part 3.
Perspective: I'm sitting in my couch, listening to The Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again". I've got a big, stupid grin on my face. JR already has a date for NYE, but she allowed a kiss... or two... or more than a few. She lamented on how confused this all made her-- which to me is a great sign. Confusion is good. Confusion isn't "No."
Now, just so you guys know, I really do like JR. As I said before, I "Laid it all out there". That, in effect, is me saying that since we broke up, that I have never forgotten her, and that my feelings have remained unchanged. I tried (up until recently) to distract myself, but I've been unsuccessful because no other girl is like JR. She will just blurt random observations out. She is a conversationalist, and even better, she's fucking brilliant. She's beautiful to me. She appears innocent, but she's got the heart of a sage. She's a lover of life, to the point where ridiculous events are more valuable to her than others simply because she sees the value of telling the story of it later.
As the evening ended, she left acting amused and bemused alike, and me feeling wishful and confident altogether.
I promise, tomorrow, I'll be much funnier.
Perspective: I'm sitting on my chair listening to Johnny Cash's "I Walk The Line". This song goes further for me than I ever would have expected when I first listened to it. As I sit in my kinda-shabby apartment, watching Sister's cats body slam each other, I think of the last couple of nights. A girl heretofore to be known as JB hit on me. Hard Core. I realized this ridiculous circumstance mainly because JB (a figment in my life) decided to tell me that she was up for grabs, and all I had to do was call her and she was there for the taking.. The problem? I'm not a manwhore. The other problem? How could I meaningfully be pursuing DC if I took the easy out and got laid with JB?
My dilemma is simple. There's a girl I could have had in a heartbeat if I so chose, meanwhile, a girl that treats me like shit that I've been chasing since June.
What a fucking minute. I have DC blowing me off every chance she gets, meanwhile, there's another chick saying, "Here. I'm yours. Come and get it." People who know me really well know that I hate the absence of challenge. I have mixed feelings when a super-drunk girl hits on me, even if she knows me well. Obviously, there's the initial "Hell yea!" at being wanted in the first place, especially for something like an easy sexcapade. But the thing that kept me from going for it was only PARTLY about DC. It was more about me thinking, this cannot be the product of months and months of going out to the bars and being "Me". So I stop. I think about it. I listen to myself. Here's what myself was saying:
JB made me realize two things with her drunken attempt to sack me. First, she made me realize that with my current behavior, IE, drinking and being a bar rat, only someone who knew me well enough to know that I would probably turn them dow-- and only if that person was drunk as fuck would possibly make me an offer like that.
Yea, that's not depressing at all. Secondly, JB made me realize that the first thing that came to mind as she offered all these things was the thought of someone who had been treating me like CRAP finding out about me taking up her offer, and losing my chances completely.
Wow. Can anyone say PATHETIC?
So in one fell swoop, I decided to walk the line. Goodbye, JB. Goodbye, DC. I don't need you any less than you need me, and that's a promise.
Part 2.
Perspective: I'm sitting on my couch in my crappy apartment listening to Matchbox 20. The song is "Unwell". It's a good song for feeling like no one understands the craziness you're going through, or feeling inside. Lately, I've been taking odd jobs working as the UnBouncer (unofficial) for several places. Taking out my aggressions on people who've been deemed unbarworthy, and I get to escort them out the door. It's been a good outlet. I get to feel like the big man, and I don't have to explain my meanness to anyone. If I see them again and they call me out-- hey-- I was just doing my job (at the time).
Just as I decided that DC was out for good, I went to the coffee shop today and wondered how JR was doing. I texted her and asked if she'd like to grab a cup with me. She called me back and said she was in the middle of cleaning her apartment, but if I wanted to drop by with some coffee, that'd be good.
Side Note: I dated JR for two months last year, starting in November 06 and ending in early January 07. Our breakup was quiet for me, but noisy for her. Having said that, I've regretted walking away ever since, and I still think about our time together as a couple, even if there wasn't really a name for it.
I decided to grab a paper and stick it into my bag before heading over with coffee. When I arrived, I pulled out the paper and located the crossword puzzles, which she and I spent a very quiet 30 minutes solving. Suddenly she realized we needed to go to Hobby Lobby to grab more Christmas gift stuff, so we went there. I drove. The evening was slowly evolving into a date. Things were going well. There were flirtations, reminiscences of past dates, trips, and good times, and so on. She made whole wheat angel hair pasta with home-made pesto sauce. I gotta tell ya, it was really good. I don't know if I was just REALLY freaking hungry, or if I was just happy to be in her company again, but that felt like the best home-cooked meal I've had since T-day. Schnazzas! yow.
After the meal, I asked her if she wanted to go see the Christmas lights at the square. She looked at me very suspiciously, (which I confirmed with a sneaky grin) and reluctantly (maybe just hesitantly) agreed. I kept thinking to myself if I stop smiling, I'm going to frown for the rest of the night, because I'm so damn sure that my plans are going to get shot to hell. My plan? Go for the walk with the lights, let the romance set in, then lay it out there. Then ask if she has plans for NYE, and if not, ask her out.
Part 3.
Perspective: I'm sitting in my couch, listening to The Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again". I've got a big, stupid grin on my face. JR already has a date for NYE, but she allowed a kiss... or two... or more than a few. She lamented on how confused this all made her-- which to me is a great sign. Confusion is good. Confusion isn't "No."
Now, just so you guys know, I really do like JR. As I said before, I "Laid it all out there". That, in effect, is me saying that since we broke up, that I have never forgotten her, and that my feelings have remained unchanged. I tried (up until recently) to distract myself, but I've been unsuccessful because no other girl is like JR. She will just blurt random observations out. She is a conversationalist, and even better, she's fucking brilliant. She's beautiful to me. She appears innocent, but she's got the heart of a sage. She's a lover of life, to the point where ridiculous events are more valuable to her than others simply because she sees the value of telling the story of it later.
As the evening ended, she left acting amused and bemused alike, and me feeling wishful and confident altogether.
I promise, tomorrow, I'll be much funnier.
Monday, December 17, 2007
I'm kind of a big deal.
That's right, people.... this is the 30th blog so far. Not too shabby considering it seems like just yesterday when I was pondering whether this blog would make it after its first post or fizzle out like the majority. It would appear that not only have I got something to say-- but that I can say it over and over again, 30 times. Hooray me.
Since I love lists so much (those numbered paragraphs spelling out in no particular sequence my random epiphanies throughout the day) I decided to go ahead and give this occurrence a name. Therefore, I hereby christen all lists henceforth "Hit Lists". No doubt the FBI will be reading my blog more often now, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. Who knows, maybe the feds will read this and see some way to capitalize on my ability to rant.
On we go.
1. I saw "I Am Legend" today with Sister and Hendog. It was actually really good. I didn't expect much when it came to the plot, but my expectations were a little high with Will Smith as the lead. With no other A-listers co-starring (it is a "last man on earth" story) he is basically carrying the huge weight of smoothing over the movie's many plot errors. Having said that, he performed exceptionally well-- exceptionally human. That's all I ask for.
2. I had to kick the same guy out of three separate bars tonight. I heard shit from some people about their friend and how cool he is-- but how they don't want him around. Too fucking bad. I'm not going to kick your friend out just because he annoys you. Do the world a favor and be honest for once. Even worse is when people see I have some pull with the bar staff, and think I want to have a conversation about how they elbowed someone in the sternum the other day. Nice move, dude. Tell me again why I give a shit? I totally feel for people I previously considered assholes now. I SO fucking relate now.
3. DC was walking up the street just as I was heading to BBR. Don't ask me how, but she suckered me into going to Finn's, which I advised against, and of course, they go in, then leave two minutes later. Instead, they head to George's, where DC is accosted by her stalker. So I had the personal treasure and joy of watching her bitch a guy out for following her around everywhere. No wonder she is so damn sketchy. A guy can't freakin smell DC's fart without him getting jealous. This another reason why I am anti-pacifist at times. Some people have the let-it-go, it's-all-good, it's-cool mentality... well what happens when you wind up with a stalker? no go, no good, not cool.
Anyway, the DC moratorium continues until she at least gives me a damn clue.
Since I love lists so much (those numbered paragraphs spelling out in no particular sequence my random epiphanies throughout the day) I decided to go ahead and give this occurrence a name. Therefore, I hereby christen all lists henceforth "Hit Lists". No doubt the FBI will be reading my blog more often now, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. Who knows, maybe the feds will read this and see some way to capitalize on my ability to rant.
On we go.
1. I saw "I Am Legend" today with Sister and Hendog. It was actually really good. I didn't expect much when it came to the plot, but my expectations were a little high with Will Smith as the lead. With no other A-listers co-starring (it is a "last man on earth" story) he is basically carrying the huge weight of smoothing over the movie's many plot errors. Having said that, he performed exceptionally well-- exceptionally human. That's all I ask for.
2. I had to kick the same guy out of three separate bars tonight. I heard shit from some people about their friend and how cool he is-- but how they don't want him around. Too fucking bad. I'm not going to kick your friend out just because he annoys you. Do the world a favor and be honest for once. Even worse is when people see I have some pull with the bar staff, and think I want to have a conversation about how they elbowed someone in the sternum the other day. Nice move, dude. Tell me again why I give a shit? I totally feel for people I previously considered assholes now. I SO fucking relate now.
3. DC was walking up the street just as I was heading to BBR. Don't ask me how, but she suckered me into going to Finn's, which I advised against, and of course, they go in, then leave two minutes later. Instead, they head to George's, where DC is accosted by her stalker. So I had the personal treasure and joy of watching her bitch a guy out for following her around everywhere. No wonder she is so damn sketchy. A guy can't freakin smell DC's fart without him getting jealous. This another reason why I am anti-pacifist at times. Some people have the let-it-go, it's-all-good, it's-cool mentality... well what happens when you wind up with a stalker? no go, no good, not cool.
Anyway, the DC moratorium continues until she at least gives me a damn clue.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Progress
Take a close look at the tags I've given this blog-- in fact, if you want to know what any blog of mine is going to cover, look at the tags-- if there's no subject that interests you, then I've just saved you at least 5 minutes of time. And that's just because I'm such an nice guy.
I have four goals.
1. This is one I hope to achieve in the next 30 minutes. In an effort to make my blogs more palatable, I'm going to spend only 20 minutes actually writing. Hopefully, with practice, I'll be able to write a well-rounded blog in less than ten. We'll see what happens.
2. Continue searching for employment. I had an interview today with Tony C, the owner of several low-grade bars in the area... mostly just "clubs" for people who don't like to wear collared shirts. He's starting me out as a daytime bartender at one of his pool halls. Should be interesting. My goal is to do whatever I can to get, keep, and make the best of this job.
3. Lay off of the DC chase for a few days. I saw her at George's tonight, only because Peach was at the "other" bar, and invited me to come. I was hoping to only accidentally run into her tonight, but this ended up being more planned than I intended. Regardless, she showed more than the usual amount of affection in front of her friends... good sign always. Anyway, the goal is to -- now that she's expressed a "I actually do give a shit" attitude toward me-- follow up by completely ignoring her. Most guys understand this. Girls probably think I'm a creep if I do this, but think back to the guy that called you 8 times after you made out with him a week before. Did you like that sort of thing? I didn't think so.
--- as a side, I give DC a lot of leeway because of her relationship baggage with a guy that seems to follow her around like a wounded puppy. Seriously, this guy is pathetic. She calls him a stalker, but really he just harmlessly shows up and makes her feel guilty about enjoying another man's company. So there's that. --
4. Successfully get my Christmas stocking and whatever else might belong to me from the E-house. Ever since the freak breakup with my ex (once ex-fiancee, then just ex) things have not been smooth between us. For one, she has yet to show up in public with the guy she's dating. Because, A. I'd choke him with his own arm, and B. She knows I'd make a scene... and she knows I'd make a scene ONLY because I'm one of the few people in this town that can get away with it. So-- in short, I need my shit back, bitch. So I hope that goes bloodlessly.
Now I'm going to enjoy some recently-cooked frozen pizza and see if there are any new pictures of NFL cheerleaders on the sports illustrated website. Cheers!
I have four goals.
1. This is one I hope to achieve in the next 30 minutes. In an effort to make my blogs more palatable, I'm going to spend only 20 minutes actually writing. Hopefully, with practice, I'll be able to write a well-rounded blog in less than ten. We'll see what happens.
2. Continue searching for employment. I had an interview today with Tony C, the owner of several low-grade bars in the area... mostly just "clubs" for people who don't like to wear collared shirts. He's starting me out as a daytime bartender at one of his pool halls. Should be interesting. My goal is to do whatever I can to get, keep, and make the best of this job.
3. Lay off of the DC chase for a few days. I saw her at George's tonight, only because Peach was at the "other" bar, and invited me to come. I was hoping to only accidentally run into her tonight, but this ended up being more planned than I intended. Regardless, she showed more than the usual amount of affection in front of her friends... good sign always. Anyway, the goal is to -- now that she's expressed a "I actually do give a shit" attitude toward me-- follow up by completely ignoring her. Most guys understand this. Girls probably think I'm a creep if I do this, but think back to the guy that called you 8 times after you made out with him a week before. Did you like that sort of thing? I didn't think so.
--- as a side, I give DC a lot of leeway because of her relationship baggage with a guy that seems to follow her around like a wounded puppy. Seriously, this guy is pathetic. She calls him a stalker, but really he just harmlessly shows up and makes her feel guilty about enjoying another man's company. So there's that. --
4. Successfully get my Christmas stocking and whatever else might belong to me from the E-house. Ever since the freak breakup with my ex (once ex-fiancee, then just ex) things have not been smooth between us. For one, she has yet to show up in public with the guy she's dating. Because, A. I'd choke him with his own arm, and B. She knows I'd make a scene... and she knows I'd make a scene ONLY because I'm one of the few people in this town that can get away with it. So-- in short, I need my shit back, bitch. So I hope that goes bloodlessly.
Now I'm going to enjoy some recently-cooked frozen pizza and see if there are any new pictures of NFL cheerleaders on the sports illustrated website. Cheers!
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Reconstruction
So, a number of things have kinda hit the fan. My family has basically decided we're all a bunch of winners. Sister's battery is dead, and a new one is like 60 bucks. She broke up with her boyfriend, which gives me mixed feelings. A week after she gives him the key to our apartment, he gets the axe. I liked this guy, too. He was really the only one who treated her like a lady and didn't get freaky jealous when she hung out with her friends (basically other guys that are like brothers to her). He was protective, but not to a fault. This guy had a lot of integrity and honor, but like so many people I know, his life was basically stuck in "N".
Speaking of "N", that's kind of where I'm at right now. I'm going through the motions with the unemployment stuff, and scheduling interviews with prospective jobs. I met a guy last night who knows the owner of a graphics company. He doesn't know if there's a job opening or not, but I'm willing to check it out. The only hitch is that it's located in Bentonville. Really, I hate the idea of going on the bypass for work every day. I imagine that one day, some soccer mom is going to cut me off causing me to spin out and eat shit in the median grass. Here's an FU in advance, lady.
I caught myself acting crazy last night. DC made a beeline home after the bar closed, leaving me with a very lame hug goodnight. Plus, when she answered the phone earlier, she said, "Hey friend!" Anyway, earlier in the day, I bought her this two dollar balloon flower from a guy who was making balloon animals for kids at the mall. It was a yellow flower, and I thought she'd get a kick out of it because she spent 10 minutes telling me how much she loves yellow roses. I gave her shit for picking out a flower color that symbolizes friendship, twhich she denied having anything to do with her affinity for that particular color. But here and there, she kept hinting at me to not act crazy and "relax!"
So as calmly as I could, I chased her down and caught up with her. She turned around, and said, "I'm on the phone!" Wow. Here, I just wanted to give you this.
Pause.
Once she realized what it was, she started laughing and beating me with it. Good sign? I don't know. I hope she can tell the difference between me just being assertive and a psycho stalker. Just to be on the safe side, I'm not going to call or text her today and let her miss me a little. Or tomorrow, maybe. Knowing her, it may take more than one day. I'll let her go ahead and call me. After all, how shitty would it be to give her that flower (even a balloon one) and not even get a call in the next 48 hours? Okay, that's pretty anal, but really. Three whole days? C'mon, gimme something!
So right now I'm waiting on my sister to get home with my laundry, then I'm gonna hang out with KBT. He's wanting to go shopping, but I think there may be food involved later. We all know how great food can be, huh? Eh? Good stuff.
Oh yea--- I finally saw The Golden Compass a couple days ago. Man, it was awesome. I'm not usually a fan of movies with a child actor(s) as the main character(s) (Narnia made me want to vomit). But this one was pretty damn good. Sam Elliot even has a cameo, and guess who he plays? WTFLOLOMG... himself. It's GREAT! Hah... anyway.
Speaking of "N", that's kind of where I'm at right now. I'm going through the motions with the unemployment stuff, and scheduling interviews with prospective jobs. I met a guy last night who knows the owner of a graphics company. He doesn't know if there's a job opening or not, but I'm willing to check it out. The only hitch is that it's located in Bentonville. Really, I hate the idea of going on the bypass for work every day. I imagine that one day, some soccer mom is going to cut me off causing me to spin out and eat shit in the median grass. Here's an FU in advance, lady.
I caught myself acting crazy last night. DC made a beeline home after the bar closed, leaving me with a very lame hug goodnight. Plus, when she answered the phone earlier, she said, "Hey friend!" Anyway, earlier in the day, I bought her this two dollar balloon flower from a guy who was making balloon animals for kids at the mall. It was a yellow flower, and I thought she'd get a kick out of it because she spent 10 minutes telling me how much she loves yellow roses. I gave her shit for picking out a flower color that symbolizes friendship, twhich she denied having anything to do with her affinity for that particular color. But here and there, she kept hinting at me to not act crazy and "relax!"
So as calmly as I could, I chased her down and caught up with her. She turned around, and said, "I'm on the phone!" Wow. Here, I just wanted to give you this.
Pause.
Once she realized what it was, she started laughing and beating me with it. Good sign? I don't know. I hope she can tell the difference between me just being assertive and a psycho stalker. Just to be on the safe side, I'm not going to call or text her today and let her miss me a little. Or tomorrow, maybe. Knowing her, it may take more than one day. I'll let her go ahead and call me. After all, how shitty would it be to give her that flower (even a balloon one) and not even get a call in the next 48 hours? Okay, that's pretty anal, but really. Three whole days? C'mon, gimme something!
So right now I'm waiting on my sister to get home with my laundry, then I'm gonna hang out with KBT. He's wanting to go shopping, but I think there may be food involved later. We all know how great food can be, huh? Eh? Good stuff.
Oh yea--- I finally saw The Golden Compass a couple days ago. Man, it was awesome. I'm not usually a fan of movies with a child actor(s) as the main character(s) (Narnia made me want to vomit). But this one was pretty damn good. Sam Elliot even has a cameo, and guess who he plays? WTFLOLOMG... himself. It's GREAT! Hah... anyway.
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