I Showed Mine

Cat Vader finds your lack of faith disturbing...

...

I'm currently experiencing Deja-vu. As I write these words, I can hear the pings of dripping water coming from the kitchen. Almost a year to the day, the powers that be, have decided that the ceiling in my kitchen shall pour forth water, again. This time around the roommate and I are amazingly calm about this, as we dealt with this before.

...

The show went well. Except for an unexpected wardrobe malfunction, I made it to the stage for my performance, and did all right. Making break-away clothing is a very demanding task, one I hope I won't have to do for a while. Especially when one must sew themselves into the outfit, due to the tightness of the shorts, and the fact you are wearing a box attached to a coat hanger around your waist, that said shorts must go over.

I prepped three needles with thread, two of which broke just before I had to go on. Though the shorts wear almost falling off, people did not seem to notice.

We had a modest gathering of 200 people there, which is above average for our attendance, though not the amount of people I was expecting. Winter weather is mostly to blame.

I watched the video of my performance. I look nervous as hell.

It was so bizarre. Being on stage like that. I would say that I "blacked out" up there. But not really totally gone. The thought process was strange to me. I couldn't even really see the audience. I heard the music, I did my routine. Everything was in slow motion, yet went by so fast... Then the box dropped, and the roar of the audience...

oh.

I'm glad I still have the ability to surprise myself.

...

Of course a bunch of coworkers were there. Female coworkers, who have been gabbing quite a bit about the performance. Some have taken to calling me Mr. Burlesque. Its always good to stir up the rumor mill.

...

Well, the pictures are up on my myspace page if peoples would like to see them. In the tagged pictures folder, or on the burlesque company's myspace, which can be found through mine.

I would write more, but now I have to go empty some buckets that are filling with water.

I'll Update Soon, I Promise

So I turned thirty. I feel proud to say I spent the last day of my twenties shopping for a thong and fake mustaches, having an eleven inch mustache of my own, preparing for the upcoming event on Saturday night. The event at which I will take my clothes off in front of hopefully 400 people, where I will be wearing said thong.

I'm leading a somewhat interesting life right now.

...

But I'm terribly busy for once. I almost don't know how to process it all, how to get it all done... I have to write stuff down constantly now.

I'm amazed at myself, and proud. I usually take winter pretty hard, and having these things to do week after week feels wonderful, and energizing. Not at home every night, smoking as much weed as humanly possibly and drinking wine and immersed in video games.

...

Its been a long day. I'll have details of the birthday soon, and extreme details of my first burlesque perfor-MANce.

Not that anyone is exactly living and dying on my less-than-frequent updates...

...

P.S. Not sign of a girl anywhere in sight. This is a good thing.

Waiting on the Couch For You

I love who ever did this. Its inspired me in ways I cannot even begin to imagine. I really love how Elvis has the bigger halo. I think it should be entitled "Kings," because it reminds me of the story of my friend J. who had this amazing Elvis belt buckle, his portrait surrounded by an intricate floral design. One day he went to a tattoo artist that was working on J.'s tiger back piece (sadly unfinished to this day). The tattoo guy asked who was on J.'s belt buckle, and J. responded, "the king, baby." Then the tattoo guy grabbed his own belt buckle, the same floral design, only in the portrait was a picture of Jesus, and he said, "nah, baby, this is the King!"

...

Today has been a long arduous day. Full of some good news, things I should be feeling very thankful for right now, but for some reason I'm kinda hung up on some lingering sadness. That being Seasonal Affective Disorderness.

I suppose my biggest announcement is that I'm currently up-ing my role in the burlesque troop, and crossing the boundary of Tech to Performer. Boy-lesque. Me in a thong. And that's about all. Yep.

Heh.

Its a cute routine, and I'm proud of it, though I haven't spent all that much time on the performance, as its been a long week of indulgences, and holiday shit.

I suppose I'm immensely nervous, considering I'll be in front of (hopefully) 300 - 400 people, with a one or two millimeter strip of cloth between them and "the gentlemen." I just need to get my stuff in order, and pray to god its not cold in the club.

And yes, I have a tad bit of the exhibitionist in me. I spent a portion of my youth naked at summer camp. Which sounds entirely inappropriate, but you have to understand, Naked Cabin Jumping was a very serious game among the staff.

...

Long week. Practice two nights a week, plus work, and then the throngs of visitors who come back here and expect to get really drunk, and I must oblige.

My sleep has been restless, and not quality in the slightest. This makes me prone to bouts of weakness, the winter blahs, minor depression etc.

Feeling it very strongly at the moment.

But good things happened today.

I gots me a raise. And again, I wish I could focus on that good feeling instead of my pathetic emotional whimpering. But hey, that's me!

(I've been saying, "But hey, that's my life!" a lot lately. I don't know why.)

Slightly what I expected, a bit slightly under what I had hoped for, but I'll take it. She also offered a bit more six months from now, if I meet her demands of me, which are all not unreasonable, and if fact may learn me some new things.

And its much needed, as I still can't quite grasp the saving money thing. There is a hole in my bank account. The hole is me, and my unquenchable thirst for booze. And crab wantons. So freakin' good.

...

But I think I may go for the quitting smoking thing in January.

I told myself that when I turned thirty, I would quit smoking, cuz its just no longer cool to smoke when you're over thirty.

Well, I turn thirty on Friday of this week, and quite frankly, with the b-day celebrations, performance, and Christmas and New Years, eh, realistically no. So by the end of January, I hope to be smoke free... well, cigarette free. Nah Fool!, not giving that up any time soon.

Another hapless in vain stab at supposedly trying to "get my shit together."

Whatever.

...

Today marks an anniversary, of sorts. Maybe a smudge on some sort of record. But I have been officially single for an entire year now.

Perhaps I may be brooding a bit, again, prone to weakness, but ah, more of a year in review of all my horrible encounters I've had with women in the past year. Its been quite a few, though no 'serious' dating came out of it.

What a long, strange trip its been.

Heh.

Totally laughing at that line.

...

Well, not going to dwell too deeply on that one.

And now I'm going to go read the w@tchmen. I'm riveted.

Some One Great

This describes my mental state right now... figure it out. I can't.

...

The snow is here. Already, and accumulating. Sigh.

Every year I really look forward to bringing out the winter coat. Actually, I don't like bringing out the winter coat, because it only means one thing - that the snow is here, and its cold and winter.

I look forward to digging through the pockets of my winter coat, to find what treasures I left in there on the day that I hung up the coat for the Spring.

I held out as long as I could. In the mean time I've been wearing my old blue coat that I refer to as my "smoking jacket," which now resides on an old nail stuck in the wall of our living room. Its a coat I've deeply loved for a long time, despite the broken zipper and slightly dirty sleeves, since I've never once took it to the cleaners. I almost got rid of it once, at the request of someone once dear to me, and after that person left my life, I dug out the coat from the basement where it sat in a bag of clothes ready for donation. It was some sort of personal victory, a piece of me I didn't want to let go.

...

Contents of winter coat pockets:

1 pair of glasses, plastic, with yellow plastic lenses and dollar signs.
1 (empty) pack of rolling papers
2 bank account slips, showing more money than I've had in quite some time
1 receipt from wine store
1 movie ticket stub
1 packet of Emergen C, orange flavor
1 tube chap stick, medicated
1 1" pin, from the burlesque show, of which I am now a part of.

...

Squid came and went. We did the usual visitor ritual, long drunken nights at the The Bar, darts, greasy diner food, and the mandatory shopping trip in which she tries to get me to buy clothes and stuff I don't need. So strange, the female urge to shop and buy new things... File that under "things girls do that confuse me."

Though it wasn't an official offer, she tempted me with a possible future employment option, down south of course, which seriously got me thinking about movement again. Though the money sounds very tempting, especially now as I dance around my broken bank account, there are, of course, drawbacks.

I love my friends dearly, but when they cross over into the realm of employment, especially as my boss, things get a little rough. Our friendship was greatly strained the last time she was my boss. I once vowed never to do it again.

The weather also sounds very tempting, as I'm sure its probably 75 degrees down there as I write this.

...

Speaking of bosses, I asked for my yearly review yesterday. She responded with, "oh, who told you you were up for review?" I replied with, "You did... a month ago..."

"Oh. Right."

This coming from the person who once told me, "People only ask for reviews when they want a raise... that's mainly why I despise giving reviews..."

Well, you're right about part of it. I think more money has been deservedly earned. I also want a review because some iota of feedback is nice to get sometimes, positive or negative. Considering I get pretty much nothing, unless I really mess something up.

...


Oh hangovers. I think I'll go fix up that packet of Emergen C. Shit works wonders

Yes, We Did!

There's a phrase that I've been hearing over and over again, uttered by more than a few people, in all sorts of different places.

"I feel like my faith in humanity has been restored..."

I've been saying it myself, and I actually do feel it... And there's other feelings, ones I haven't felt in so long, that they feel alien to me, awkward and young. I feel hope again. And usually I'm prone to distrust the government and politics in general, yet its there, this hope, that things are going to be ok. That the new president will actually do good for this country, that things will and can change, for the better.

...

I was smoking a cigarette on a porch, someone's house, an election party. We had been following the news nervously, all of us drinking heavily, in anticipation for the returns. It was probably around 11:30, or 11:45 when the call was made, that Obama would be the next president. And though there were others on the porch, small talking, and cheering, suddenly someone told us to be quiet. And in that moment of silence between us all, we could hear it, across town, the roars of celebration, chanting and cheering. We were probably about three miles from the center of town where a large group of people had gathered on the campus, and we could hear their cheers.

How many presidential elections can you recall there being mass cheering, people taking to the streets in celebration?

The air was electrified, and we were all electrocuted with a sense of hope, and goodwill. Hugs and hugs, and tears, and then we gathered around the TV for the speeches to come.

...

The concession speech was done rather well, I must admit. Though the booing of the crowd pissed me off, I think Mccain gave an impressive speech. But, man, when Obama appeared, our eyes glued to the screen, everything was magical. Fifteen of us compacted on the living room floor, in various states of intoxication, intoxicated more by the words coming out of his mouth.

I had to look away at one point, because suddenly I was struck with fear, the fear of gun shots, of watching a man fall...

Its a small fear that I will be living with for the next four years, that someone out there will attempt it.

...

A few of us escaped the party and headed to the The Bar, which I gotta admit was one of the sweetest nights I've had there in a long time, all of us regulars hooting and hollering, hugging, shocked and amazed, and hugging again and again.

And later we drove around town yelling out of the car windows, "Yes We DID!" and every passerby hooted back something similar.

Its so odd to feel hope again. And as strange as it is, its a feeling I don't want to go away any time soon.

...

And mad props to the voters (everywhere!) and especially Michigan ones. Props one and two passed, which means medical marijuana and stem cell research are a go. Thanks to you, good people.

Coins, Stars, Flowers, Luigi!

Yes, this is me, and my Halloween costume. I happen to be missing the white gloves, but this was taken a week ago at a Halloween dance party. I must say of all the last minute costume ideas that I usually end up throwing together at the last moment, this one by far turned out the best. Of course, I do have the mustache to back this one up, though Luigi has quite a thick stash, the likes of which I may never see.

Though it has grown quite long. That's about ten inches, tip to tip folks. I had to shave the support beard I had under my mustache for the costume. I'll admit it was a sort of crutch. Going full mustache, and full mustache is a scary and dangerous, bold step for some men. At least if you're not a pedophile or just creepy, and/or a race car driver (of which I am not). Or an Italian plumber, for that matter.

But enough about Leonard...

...

I think my favorite Halloween costume this year, by far was not the multitude of Sarah P@lin's, and Jokers, but hands down the award goes to girls who think wearing as little clothes as possible is a great costume idea. It truly is. The award goes to you, dear ladies.

Speaking of ladies in minimal clothing, I had my first performance with the Burlesque troop. As props man, stage setter-upper, and panty-picker-upper, and even a bit part in the show as the Reverend Luigi, I gotta say it was an amazing experience. Part of me felt all of my high school musical theater experience came rushing back in waves. I felt all fifteen again. And even feeling awkward around the girls, as if I had crushes again, on girls in the show, and not being able to talk to them again, not that I've ever been comfortable approaching girls I like, yet don't know.

There's a lady in the belly dancing troop that performed with us. She's was quite gorgeous, and I totally didn't approach her at all. No attempts at small talk. But that's ok. I just felt funny feeling this way again. And the nervous jitter of performing on stage in front of 300 and more drunk people. And the tension of getting things on stage and off in time. I found myself double and triple checking all of the props, while trying to maintain a gentle buzz of boozes, despite wanting to get plastered and join in the fun.

We plan to perform with the bd troop again. They were/are quite talented and very professional dancers. Not to say we aren't, but there's a certain Jene se qua about us... whatever that means in French.

I'm still quite weirded out by girl's and their intentions these days. Trying so hard to steer clear.

...

Otherwise, not much else is up. Trying to stay home more. Only brief excursions to the The Bar, but of course, people keep coming to town for visits. Squid comes up this weekend, so some banner drinking is in order.

I gotta work six days in a row, though things are strangely slow right now. I can't quite seem to save any money these days.

Luckily it reached almost 60 degrees today. Oh, the last dying gasps of the fall. I swear its gonna snow soon. I can feel it in my bones. The cold grip of icy, wintery, death.

...

Oh, and I'm thinking of forming a Council of Mustaches. A group of mustachioed men that meet up regularly, once a week, and go to the bar wearing bad suits and simply talking nonsense the entire time, like cartoonish voices. I think about these things at work. I suppose ladies could take part, if they were willing to wear fake mustaches. Or, hell, even if they actually can grow one.

...

And I'm really thinking about voting this year. Um... don't ask when the last time I voted in an election was. I've kinda learned my lesson from the whole Bush stealing election back in 2000. And that P@lin, whoa, christ... uh huh.

I mean, in some harsh reality, we're almost facing an election of picking which vice president we want, considering the possibility of death for either presidential candidate, whether it be through natural causes, or rediculous man-made efforts. Its scary that's a possibility in this day and age. It is fucking 2008, and we've come a long way, but not so much, to even consider assassination based on racism as a possible predicament. Then again, MLK was not very long ago.

We are a sad race, us humans.

...

And on a brighter note, I don't know why, but watching the new Narnia movie is totally making me weepy. I'll cry at the most dumbest points, the oddest parts... Example: Me, " Oh shit, there's the centaurs... baaawwwww." "and... Reepicheep!!! Fuck Yes!!!! Baaawwwww." I'm going to finish watching it tonight.

(and yes I know its Christian propaganda, but as a kid who grew up on these books, and totally didn't see it that way, still just loves the story. You can't ruin that part of my childhood, Jesus people. I simply can't wait for Dawn Treader, because that book was toally my fucking favorite.)

"Malt-ternative"

Good night sweet prince. I read in the paper the other day they are discontinuing Zima, "Zomething different." "The "Malt-ternative."

When I lived in Chicago, someone (who shall remain nameless) actually brought a six pack of Zima over to my apartment, during a party of some sort. No one touched them. Until about six months later when at the lowest depths of my depression and broke-ness, I drank them.

(I'd like to think that six pack was actually a couple years old, and just got passed from party to party over the course of two years, untouched.)

You will be missed... by high schoolers and underage drinkers everywhere.

...

Oh, this plague was quite a nasty one. I spent three days in utter delirium, hacking my lungs out. Then congested and coughing up goo for another week, and finally its subsiding, though I'm still prone to hacking fits. Really starting to think quitting the smoking is a great idea. But I'm just not ready for that.

Otherwise, its been a long couple of weeks.

I refuse to close the window in my room all the way, despite the recent plummeting temperatures. Just not ready for that either. Not ready to admit the end is near, that soon I shall fall into the depths of winter, and get the sad.
I think I've finally mind-melded with the internet. I have a folder for images of cats. A lot of them.

...

I recently fell into a foul mood, the kind usually produced by run-ins with people I do not want to see around. There's a few about town, and its inevitable, in a town this small. I tend to get down on myself for letting it affect me so, which makes it worse. But what can be done? I think I'm going to hermit myself soon, i.e. not going to the The Bar, or out in general.

But I do have other activities to fill my time. Working for the Burlesque company is the highlight of my week. Things with the band should get rolling again, after our brief homeless hiatus.

Uh. I guess that's about it.
...

Things at work are going pretty typically. I commented to a coworker that I haven't seen the boss around lately, and he responded with, "Didn't she tell you she was taking a two week vacation?" Nope. I just figured, since I see her less and less these days, she was just not working. Heh. But people don't tend to tell me anything, anyway. Communication is not our strong point.

...

I've been having bad dreams as of late. Not nightmares, or terrors, or anything like that, and not very often. Just dreams about past relationships. Not sure which are the worst ones, the ones where we are back together, and things are good again, or the other ones, in which we are back together, and things are horribly wrong. Either way, had one this morning, despite sleeping in and the bed being incredibly roasty and warm.

It is quite difficult to get out bed, these cold, frosty mornings.

Making Pirate Treasure Maps

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My body is a road map of pain. After working a lovely seven day in a row stretch at work, upon my first day off, I woke up with a horribly scratchy throat, and found myself with terrible hacking fits, coughing up some nasty looking stuff.

The next day brought the chills, plugged up ears, and at night the dreaded night sweats. I went into work for an hour, and called it quits. Luckily it was a slow day.

I spent that day and the next in bed, or on the couch watching the Star Wars Trilogy. Yes, trilogy. (Those prequels still rub me the wrong way.) I drank hot toddies, orange juice, took weird Chinese herbal supplements, and slept. The whiskey didn't exactly work its magic like it used to, as I switched to the real cheap stuff, due to money constraints. Then I opted for the rum, which is actually quite tasty given the right kind of tea.

Hey. I like booze. No, really, its my friend's old man's trick to beating any illness. Then again, he was a total alcoholic. Anyways.

Last night i thought I had licked it, and actually felt great. The coughing stopped, the phlegm dried up, and I drank way too much wine to celebrate the victory.

This morning I coughed up goo for about ten minutes straight. And hacked up something fierce at work. (I was sanitary about it... head mostly in the garbage can)

Then off to burlesque practice, which, I gotta say, is totally sweet. I cut out some cardboard props last Monday, and this week learned to operate the sewing machine. I made a sash. I also burned paper to make it look old. It feels amazingly good to be doing something worthwhile, and creative and really fun. I have something else going on in my life. Plus the ladies are completely gorgeous, and really nice, which, is, pretty, cool.

Next week the band should be getting together again. We took a hiatus due to no practice space, and people being without homes.

...

Otherwise things are kind of quiet around here. I haven't been to the The Bar in over a week. This is a new record for me. Instead I putz around my house, and have been watching a lot of TV shows, mainly Dexter and Weeds, Weeds being my new favorite at the moment.

...

This sick boy needs some sleep.

Grunt Rock

PS. Learned the term "Grunt Rock" today. Its the proper nomenclature for the event of having a massively difficult turd experience, in which one strains and groans for what feels like hours, only to have the teeniest, tiniest, size of a small rock turd pop out. Grunt Rock.

I Think About Girls a Lot

I actually have a similar shirt, of only one At-At. My friend S. made it for me. And its probably my favorite shirt. I always wanted one of those toys when I was a kid, and I never got one. S. birthday was in July, and because of the shirt, someone offered up the fact he had three actual At-At toys. I bought one, and had it for a week before I gave it to S. His face nearly exploded when he saw it at the bar. He never had one either.

...

Wow, I have been negligent. Can't say its for any other real reason other than the fact I'm completely lazy. This last week alone I've had a seven day run of working, which ends tomorrow. I'm a little gibbered up right now. Exhausted. Going a little batty. At least I work at two tomorrow, so more wine, and sleeping in. Getting out of bed has been extremely difficult in the mornings. Not due to sadness or depression. That will hit in a month or so. Winters here are a bitch. A cold, grey, endless dark bitch of a fucking bitch. Please excuse the harsh language. It totally sucks.

But the fall has been pretty sweet. Oh, how I love commenting on the weather. I think I'm practicing for when I become an old man (gods willing), and I just sit on the porch in a rocking chair, swatting at flies and trapping anyone within earshot with the same stories, over and over again, that I will know for sure, have heard a thousand times from me. My revenge against the assault of babble and stories I get from the dish washers at work for four to five hours a day. (They are real people, not the machines, and each one is totally a character in and of themselves, shit I couldn't make up if I tried).

But I digress. October 1st hit, and suddenly mother nature just flipped the fall switch, and now its cold at night. Leaves are slowly withering, and its only getting colder. They say its supposed to be 70 degrees tomorrow, and it will probably be the last highest temperature gauge in these parts til April. No, scratch that, til late May. But I do love the seasons. And the bed is so goddamned warm and cozy when I wake up. I've hit the snooze over and over, something I rarely do.

I also found this super, cheap deal and a not-that-terrible wine that comes in the double bottles, almost jugs of wine, 2 bottles for ten bucks. That's four bottles of wine, roughly 2.75 a bottle. Four nights, four bottles, decent buzz and little hangover effects. My new way of getting through the winter. Hell yeah. This deal won't last forever, but I'm thinking right now, I'm the only one buying.

You see, my summer blow out finally took its toll. I seriously drank myself broke. I mean, not technically. I have some savings which are completely on lock down, never to be touched unless in extreme duress. But the checking account, oops, took a spill. For the last week and a half I've been broke, well, on an extreme budget. Payday is Thursday at midnight (my favorite day, Thursday, that is, just something about 'em), and I've got like, 18$ in the billfold. Great success!

Tomorrow is also the seventh day in a row of work. Oh yeah, I already wrote that. I mean, its not all that bad, we've all probably had worse, but damn, I'm tired enough to bitch pointlessly anyway.

...

Girls remain a mystery. I'm staying away from them. Honestly, I'm going to try my best. I'm also going to write a book about this, because each girl I've had any sort of contact with since January, has developed into some sort of weird crazy story that I couldn't have made up if I tried. The newest installment has already dropped like a fresh turd, last night being extremely bizarre.

While I greatly appreciate a girl flirting with me at work and giving me strongly romantic comments from time to time, (does wonders for the self-esteem), It kind of sucks when you have a boyfriend you're having problems with, and greatly like my attention and willingness to listen to said problems.

But really, I don't want to hear it. Nor do I want the text messages, explaining how 'nice and fun' I am. You're setting me up for something, like a fall-back plan, or a bail-out package, and I've already had one of these encounters this year with someone I almost got lost in, (who did it to me twice already, the great mind fuck) and now another? Uh-huh. eh-eh. eh-eh. eh-eh. The dolphin. I've heard the "you're a nice guy speech" way too many times. Not going to do it.

I guess, though maybe I shouldn't have suddenly blasted you with a kind of rude, but necessary text message.

And your several responses only helped build my case.

I usually don't lash out like that. I'm terrible in a debate, or argument. A fight.

But I feel fine about it today.

I'm really trying hard these days not to get involved these days. This one sought me out, and I'm hoping its done.

So I need to give up on this stuff for a while. And focus on other things. Like my new endeavor.

Inspired by the mustache on my face, (its now 8.5 inches, waxed out tip to tip.) I joined my friends burlesque troop that I am so fond of. Though tonight was the first practice, I feel like this is something that I really want to help out on. Not for just the obvious reasons, which will help me like therapy through the winter darkness, (practice is twice a week. *smiles*) but for being creative and actually doing something, putting on something people will see. Building props, taking props off, picking up discarded panties.

Read my myspace blog for more details.

...

Otherwise, who else has an ex-fiance that calls you after she's done working at your work place, again, after the break-up, at 10:30 to see if she can use your bathroom because she really has to pee, after work, your bathroom being less than five minutes away, on the way to her car she parks around the corner? Does urine well up that fast in ladies, after work? Sometimes I gotta take a real big dump after work, but damn, peeing at work is way more acceptable than pooping at work. Though I do like the idea of getting paid to poop. I'd be rich.

Does anyone think this is weird behavior? Since its the second time she's done this.

Anyways. Man, I think about girls a lot.

Five O, on the Scene

Pretty much sums up my existence.

...

I woke up extremely hungover. Which is usually par for the course these days, despite my best intentions of not going to the bar for precisely that reason.

I sat on my stoop smoking a cigarette, basking in the golden light of the crisp fall day.

I spied a cop car up the street, pulled about half way onto the road, which is one of the main streets through town. I also noticed an individual that seemed to be talking to the officer in the vehicle. And just as I focused on them, the individual began to run away from the cop, and was tearing off his light jacket and threw his two bags down, and proceeded to book it as fast as he possibly could. The cop jumped out of the car and proceeded to give chase, calling for back-up along the way.

Before I could even realize what was really happening in front of my eyes, the large individual crossed the street and seemed to be heading right in my direction. The cop lagged behind him, not quite able to keep up.

I didn't know what to do, as the man suddenly ran past me down my driveway and into my backyard.

I lurched to my right, away from the action, and before I knew it I was inside my house, frantically trying to lock the door. I kinda understand those scenes in horror movies when people being chased are fumbling with keys just before their pursuer nabs them. Not that it mattered though, the guy was long gone, and really wouldn't found a good escape route in my house.

So I ran to the kitchen to check out the action in the back yard, and saw that the individual had dropped his red hat in my backyard, and the cop was struggling to hop the fence in my backyard. Atta boy! Eventually he made it over, and then I heard sirens of more cop cars pulling around the corner, screeching cars, and in a little while, the sounds of a helicopter.

It was On!

I went outside to smoke a cigarette and see if I could spy any action down the street, but was a little timid fearing gun fire. Not like that kind of thing happens in this town hardly ever, but hey, I just a police chase in my own backyard... not taking any chances. I also contemplated going into my back yard to retrieve the hat as a keep sake, but decided against it, fearing the individual's return. (this guy was huge by the way.)

A little while later the officer of the law returned, looking around my backyard, and eventually came up front, so I chatted him up.

They nabbed him, and it was the same cop I had seen running behind the guy. We laughed about it, me sitting on the porch, and he joked I should have stuck my foot out or something (yeah right, that guy was huge. really)... but then said I did the right thing, running inside. I almost asked him if I could have the hat, but I decided against it. I'm not one to really talk to the police. Just kind of freaks me out.

But damn, the hell of a way to start a day.

...

I spent a few days wallowing in self-pity, as I'm prone to do. Its still all rumors, and speculation, but I'm kinda certain the object of my affections is hanging out with the other guy. (Who lives two doors down from me... and I work with her, and he works at the The Bar, which we all frequent...) But I'm feeling much better, shrugging my shoulders, and saying, "whatever." Let it go. Not worth dwelling on.

Plus the events of last night kind of helped turn things around. I got lucky. A strange girl, kind of bubbly, and actually kind of fun. Though I'm not sure if, or where I want it to go. It was a fun night, and though I'm not prone to having sex with total strangers, well, eh, I needed a win.

I'm really trying to stave off sexual desire. I feel like if I could channel that energy into something else, I'd be much better off.

...

Today I got some stuff done. Cleaned up a little, made my September Mix cd, and wrote some emails. Hooray! Tomorrow, going to a yard sale, and then the library, and then work...

Tonight I shall go out and see my friend's band play, and probably drink a bit too much. And hopefully not run into any girls I know, or just met.

You've Switched Off Your Targeting Computer

Uh. Just for the Lass. I know you love these two.

...

Its peeling. Completely shredding off in giant flakes. Wearing a hoodie is quite painful, especially the disrobe. Even my sweaty work t-shirts, quite painful. Under the bicep is not a recommended place for a tattoo. Very sensitive. Very.

But its still totally f-ing sweet. A tiger head, mouth open, mid growl, on my bicep. Awesome.

And was chosen personally by the groom, as he gave the three of us our tattoos. Drawn out of a cigar box, in the form of crumpled up pieces of paper, adorned with the pattern of our fated tattoos.

It turned out better than I thought, the Tiger tattoo.

I kinda love it.

I love this new tradition among this circle of friends. Getting random tattoos, in honor of, just us dudes.

...

My love life is flaking, really hard tonight.

A scenario I've thought about a lot lately, actually happened. At least, it appeared that way. And I feel it in my bones. Not just the usual, expect the worse scenario... It just seemed that way.

I'm disappointed bout it right now. Maybe I'm over reacting. I'm just pissed. Eh. I'll get over it by tomorrow morning, when I wake up hungover, and confused. And then realize I have another agonizing workload this fine day, and will have another the next, and then sweet release, two days off in a row.

...

Guess my promise of updating more often fell through... Sorry. All two of you will have to wait. I'm trying my best these days.

Fall is here. Officially. Its messing me up. I'm kinda messed up. These days...

Torential Torture

Disgruntled cookie is disgruntled.

...

According to a work email that someone sent out to most of my coworkers, I was voted the mvp for Tight Shirt Tuesday. A nice little boost for the self-esteem, always welcome.

...

I've been fuming for a day or two about the boss' decision to dump a shit ton of her work on me, work she was supposed to do for the weekend. Although just when I'm fuming the most, she has a way of, just at the right second, defusing the situation with a well timed "thank you," I wasn't expecting to get.

So I got exceedingly drunk about it a couple nights ago. Still kind of feeling the affects.

Its also damp and humid out. I just kind of feel gross all around.

...

I also found out the current object of my desires has gotten a job at our restaurant. And will be working a short stone throw away from me in the basement hole I work in, though in a different area.

This could either be the coolest, sweetest thing to happen to me, or probably the worst, most tortuous thing ever.

She broke up with her boyfriend again. Perhaps a ray of hope shining in. Then again, she sent me some cryptic text messages about "weird few days..." and I'm not sure what she means.

Then I think I spied her out last night, riding bikes around with a dude.

Now, this could all be my typical "expect the worst" philosophy, and my minor paranoia about the situation. Who knows. I'm kinda clueless about this stuff.

I'm not very good at interpreting girl signals. They are confusing at best.

Much like the x's insistence on going out of her way, i.e. coming down to the basement specifically to say good bye to me, even though she works elsewhere in the compound. Especially since she said she wouldn't do that stuff, upon returning to work at the restaurant.

Thanks. Have a good day.

...

Um, hey Texas. Good luck! Don't hurt my friends down there, Ike. They're good people. That is all.

...

Tight Shirt Tuesdays

No comment.

...

One of my coworkers introduced the concept of "Tight Shirt Tuesdays," in which participants, mostly male thus far, are encouraged to wear the tightest work t-shirt possible, just for the sake of it being Tuesday. (And I suppose, for the ladies. Anything for the ladies.)

I'm typically not prone to wearing tight fitting clothes, although I do possess a few very tight t-shirts in which I'm sort of self conscious. Not entirely sure why, I figure I look all right, perhaps a tad on the skinny side of the spectrum. Although I'm certain that I'm in the pre-stages of growing a beer gut. No really, I weighed myself on the industrial scale we have out back at the restaurant, and found I'm about ten pounds heavier than normal. I'm certain its all concentrated in my gut right now.

...

Still, Tight Shirt Tuesday went off without a hitch. The one coworker who created the idea, he's a funny one, and I exchanged comments all day long about our tight shirts, and complimented each other on how good we look. As always in our psuedo-friendly banter, the tone of which is overly ass kissing, over the top friendly.

At the end of the day I smoked a cigarette with him, and I divulged that Tight Shirt Tuesday really worked out, considering two girls overtly flirted with me.

Now, I'm usually the dumb guy, the guy who has no idea when a girl is flirting with him, expressing interest, etc. A girl usually needs to bash me over the head with a giant log in order to get me to realize what's going on.

Not to mention I'm a terrible flirt. Although today, after realizing what was going on, I felt comfortable with actually trying to flirt, just for the sake of flirting. It was fun.

Although both ladies do have boyfriends, which is something I tend to stay away from. Bad ju-ju. I suppose it was all in good fun. My fun. And that's what matters to me at this moment.

...

The fall is starting somewhat early this year. Two chilly evenings, and last night, a cold rain fell all night, which was amazing pleasant. I'm excited for the change of season, even though I'll eat and regret these words in the dead of winter, when I'm gouging out my eyes with my seasonal depression, but there are things to look forward to. I'm already trying to schedule some Texas time for mid January, or February, when things are at its bleakest.

I'm trying my damndest to stay away from the The Bar these days, or going out in general. I may have had to dip back into the video games for a spell. I'll admit, they're boring, but just enough to get me from leaving the house. I kind of drank a huge hole in my bank account this summer. Oops.

But I do love these colder nights. And the smells, and the fact I can wear a sweater again. Ladies will be decked out in their sweaters and hats, and hanging up the tank tops (sadly), but ah, I do love the fall.

...

Next week is going to be crazy, I already know it. Another one of my friends is getting married, and we're going to be doing the "Get what you get," grab bag tattoos in honor of his wedding, a very amazingly awesome tradition among us here, and some old friends will be in town for partying.

...

Enough for now. I might take a post work nap.

Designated Area for Designating Areas.

What an oddly pleasant day. I feel like it has not rained in quite some time, and the light showers today were just so right.

...

At the restaurant, there's this constant, ongoing battle for a defined smoking area for the employees. In my (gasp) almost five years of employment, the smoking area has shifted location more times than I can remember, though generally its always been within a twenty foot radius of the back area of the place, where the graffiti is and the stock gets unloaded.

A few years ago, the house next to our building went up in flames, though not enough to seriously destroy the house, just enough to make it unlivable. Eying it for years, the restaurant sort of annexed the property finally, which some people claimed we were responsible for it, even though we weren't. Ironic, now, that the smoking area has now been relocated to the backyard of the house, and the fire that destroyed the house was actually started by a cigarette.

Its a nice area actually. A failed attempt at a garden, now overgrown, lots of trees blocking the next neighbors house, and some fences make it quite an ideal place to hide out for twenty minutes at a time, because few managers actually make it back there. It sort of feels like being at summer camp back there. I can't put my finger on why.

But it was fun watching the two makeshift tent structures they put up, almost blow away in the sudden gust of wind from the approaching storm. That and they're lousy for blocking the rain anyway.

I suppose either way you look at it, smokers are more and more being condemned to smoke in the oddest of places. A younger me would have been really pissed about this, but frankly, I'm looking forward to quitting this habit.

I told myself, Thirty is it. That's when smoking is no longer "cool."

My thirtieth birthday is almost three months away.

I think I can do it.

...

Other good things about today: The girl I've been pining for for a while texted me out of the blue. I was sitting on my stoop, smoking, wondering to myself if I should give her a call, when blam, there it was, her text.

She texted me to ask where she could pick up an application for my restaurant.

Despite my warnings of "its a cult, and it can be really crazy at times..." she's still going for it.

I mean, it is a good job, for what it is, and a cool company, for the most part.

Anyways, I told her to put me as a reference of sorts. I think I'm somewhat respected there... sort of.

What came more as a shock, was later, she texted me wondering if I knew of anyone looking for a roommate. Which could only mean one thing, that her and her boyfriend are splitting up again. Which happened the first time around, when suddenly she started showing me some interest, and then got back together with the dude, oh, back towards the end of July.

The opening and closing of doors. Timing.

I don't know.

I'm trying hard not to end up dating yet another coworker. Not that I'm saying this girl and I are going to get together. But I have known her for a long time. And she's pretty rad.

Here we go again.

...

Work was slow and pleasant today. Lots of witty banter. Standing around, smoke breaks far too often. Chill day, after the blurry, blitzkrieg of last week, all last week, that utterly exhausted me.

Oh, and then a different coworker of mine, a lady, ran up to me as I was working, and just gave me a hug from behind... I think she has a boyfriend, and its kind of weird. But I see her around the bars a lot, and we always end up talking at some point.

...

Oh, girls.

...

Girls, girls, girls, girls, girls.

...

I need a new hobby.

Locusts, My Favorite Plague

I'm thinking about saving up some monies for a new bed. Will I give in to my childish urges and purchase the above? Despite always wanting a race car bed, I think I'll settle for something a bit more adult. I don't exactly see this as winning over any possible ladies I may bring home. Then again, my ten year old twin mattress I bought for college oh so long ago, is seriously on its last few springs, and not exactly measuring up to anyone's standards.

...

What is it about my current apartment that seems to attract plagues. We've had water spilling in through the roof, ants invading the bathroom, moths invading every room, and even a bat now and again that somehow manages to find its way inside, and now we're gearing up to do battle with the gutter punks.

A month ago I came home to discover two "gentlemen" engaged in sex acts on the roof of the building next door, which is clearly visible from every window alongside one side of my house, not to mention somewhat visible from one of the busiest streets in town, that I happen to live on.
I won't go into the gritty details, but damn, that was one long blowjob session. Two and a half hours, damn dude, you must have lips of steels. Note - I did not actually watch them for that long, I just happened to come home when they began their escapades, and luckily got to be sitting on my stoop when they climbed (actually one guy fell off) the roof, and stumbled back to some party down the street.

Now we have a certain gutter punk kid in town that has decided that my secluded back yard is a most suitable place to consume forties with his high school girlfriends. Not to mention leaving said bottles, broken, all over the patio, with a giant candle that has spilled wax all over the broken glass, to make one monstrous mess of things. Thanks dude! Say hi to the cops the next time I catch you back there.

Oh, and did I mention the two sets of homeless people that have lived in the broken down car that has sat immobile in the driveway for, say, oh, the last four tenants of this residence?

Then there's our couch friend, who is in between apartments at this time, and is very vague about the move out date.

I mean, its ok, I've been there, I understand, and I actually have no problem with it. Except for the time he was sick for five days with what possibly was Mono, but luckily wasn't. I thought I was going to have to boil the couch somehow.

...

Otherwise, life is fairly ok at the moment. Any traces of well-being and rest I had from my Chicago adventure have been thoroughly erased by working a very busy weekend, six days in a row, and getting drunk all night again. Oh, and welcome back students!!! So glad to have you back in town. Thanks for helping me pay my bills, but really, I can't stand a single one of you! For real! This summer was just splendid without you here.

...

I won't go into things with girls at the moment. In fact, I'm kind of sick of it all. Girls are weird creatures, and I don't get it. That's all.

...

I'll try to update more, I promise. I'm at odds with this all, this blog, it just feels uncomfortable to me. Sometimes I miss my old one. Sometimes I just want to start afresh. And not all that much has been going on, and I'm tired and lazy all the time, so yeah. Not exactly on top of my shit right now.

But I'm actually looking forward to fall this year, and even slightly, the winter. I feel this winter won't be quite as bad as the last one, for some very obvious reasons. Its odd, I'm nostalgic for winter, and it hasn't even arrived yet.

They Ordered Me to Make Mistakes

August 22, 2008

...

Odd. If things had gone according to plan, upon this date, here and now, this year, I would have officially gotten married.

...

I suppose.

I mean, we changed the date a couple times, but this is the date that stuck in my mind.

...

I realized it tonight. How I meant to plan some kind of torturous reminder for myself. But really, it escaped my mind. Until I met up with some old friends at the bar tonight, despite my attempts to stay home tonight. A random phone call, again, friends in town, going to the bar. Blast. Damn me, Cause I'm going out, again.

...

The roommate and I set off fireworks. In honor of my would-be wedding day. Only because originally we were going to break shit, break something. Instead we lit off some cherry bombs at two in the morning. Just cause.

...

So hi. Mellow dramatics. I actually feel just fine. Sometimes I just like to wax poetical. Wax my emotions. Let them breathe.

...

Chicago was amazing. So eye-opening. A great side-step to the life I lead. To look back and see it all, how its been, all the crazy misadventures. How I want to change things, finally. Really, and fully. I want to change my life.

Quit smoking soon. Workout some. Nothing special, like, sit-ups and push-ups and shit. Simple. And actually attempt writing, stories and such. More. Be more productive.

...

Anyway, I'm drunk again, and its late, and I'm getting emotional. I was supposed to be married today. Wow, it makes sense, but it really doesn't.

Hope you are well.

"No one is around... Love will always love you."

(ps. I really want that cd back.)

Chicago, In Brief...

Anyone fancy a game of badminton?

...

My journey has ended. And though there are many details of my journey, I just don't have the strength to go into to them just yet. Tomorrow, I shall divulge. But tonight, tonight is the last true night of my vacation, and I shall be getting drunk at the The Bar, for yet another friend is in town, and I do so want to hang out. Plus, a beer sounds really good after all of the trains, buses and cars I rode in, pretty much everyday of my vacation.

What you should know, is that I feel so alive right now. And so very blessed to have reunited with many old friends and places in Chicago that I should have kept in touch with, at least kept in touch with better.

So thanks to all who drove me around, put up with me, gave me a couch to sleep on, took pictures of me, gave me beer, and food. I had a most splendid time, and I look forward to seeing all of you again, sometime soon I hope.

...

And in perhaps the most bizarre of news, that which I found out as I returned to the parents house for a brief couple of days, is that I, I am officially going to be a real uncle come March. My sister is having a baby. A baby. A new life form growing in her womb.

I feel like I have a new reason to live, something to live for. Not that I don't have any now, but one more reason to live is always a welcome thing.

...

More, tomorrow, I promise.

Yes, I Have Been Drinking... From the Well of Eternal Sorrow

For the Lass. Oh, and I heard Chuck Norris doesn't have a chin. Under his beard is just another fist.

...

On a whim I checked my bank account for the first time in a while. I'll admit I'm not the smartest person when it comes to money. My philosophy has been like this: ATM Card goes in, monies come out.

I'm glad I did, though, to discover just how shockingly much monies I've spent on the booze that I am so fond of, and how little monies are currently residing in my bank account.

Although I have had a rollicking good time these last few months. One good thing about this town is that most anyone who has ever lived here tends to come back to visit, and we must, as is our way, show them a damn, good time.

...

The monies worry me so, only because I'm planning a vacation to my old haunts in Chicago, and would much rather get drunk there, than spend another goddamn night at the The Bar. Though the introduction of the three nights of dollar PBR's, 1.75 whiskies and free pool, has pretty much left me destroyed the next day, only to sweat out the hang over, rinse and repeat.

These three nights also correspond so well with my early shifts, which makes matters that much worse.

So I've decided to attempt sobriety, at least partial sobriety, well, ok, at least not drinking at the bar every night. Though I'm feeling the temptation already...

Must Resist!

...

Doesn't help things with the ladies have gone the way they have, as always, forever and ever, amen. And that I still manage to con myself into thinking, hey, maybe tonight I will meet someone at the bar, etc. Sometimes I think its sad I still think this way, but there's always that one magic night of actually meeting someone interesting that leads to something more... or perhaps if I actually attempted asking people out...

Almost thirty years of life on this planet, and I still find myself afraid to approach girls.

Enough about that. Let's instead discuss me walking into work last Friday, the day I feared would come. x working behind the counter. Why, hello there.

I'm somewhat unsettled by this, even if its only two days a week. Luckily its in a part of the restaurant I don't frequent very often. What's more unsettling is the fact two of my bosses pulled me aside to discuss said situation. Nothing I hate more than face to face time with the bosses, especially having "meetings." I'd rather jab my eyes out with serrated knives.

I mean, there's not much I can do about. Its not really the end of the world, and I'm much too nice a person to raise a big stink about it. I really just want it to blow over, and to be left alone to do my job and then leave. When there's talk of even-higher-ups getting involved, shudder, unh-uh, no good, then its a really bad situation. My bosses are one thing, which was quite cool to have someone be in my corner for once, but even-higher-ups, oh god, no.

I suppose that day got a little more awkward when she purposely came down in the prep basement hole to say goodbye to me. In front of one of my bosses. Uh, bye? Thanks.

No, perhaps it got even more awkward later that night at the The Bar, where, of course, she decided to show up and hang out with me for a while, discussing the day. I told her about the utter dramatic shit-storm she stirred up for me at work, which, given the way my job has been going the last few months, I really don't need this now. She seemed kinda shocked, which amazed me. Like, what did you think would happen?

I don't think she understands break-up etiquette very well.

We do, however, remain civil around each other, even while drunk in public, so this is good thing.

But enough about this.

Just needed to vent a little.

...

Oh, and the girl I've been pining after recently has gotten back with her ex, and thus is unobtainable again, which seems to be the type of girl I most go for. Even though I did get to hang with her Friday night after the discussion with x. Without her boyfriend there. And slipped her my July mix. Towards the end of the night, she gave me the "long hug," a tight and very intense one. Sigh.

...

All thoughts rest on Chicago, and the train ride on Thursday the 14th. And having a beer at the Goldstar once again, and Club Foot, and my friends there, and eating Bacci's and just, oh my, getting the fuck out of town and not working for a whole week, and getting paid for it.

...

And did I mention going to see Wall*E. Really, I've seen it five times now, and seriously cry every time. I don't cry.

...


Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Chuck Norris doesn't cry either.

You Got Women on Your Mind

Go see it as soon as you can. If its still in theaters. Please. Wall*E is probably the greatest movie I've ever seen.

...


Remember when I said I'd be off doing something else, not thinking about girls? Yeah, well, that didn't happen.

I've been getting some disheartening texts lately. Law Four is almost declared.

Yesterday, the girl I've been so wrapped up in lately, decided to finally text me after a week of radio silence, to inform me she's back together with her recent ex. "Its real good..." Sigh. So much for that one. And she'll probably be at the show tonight, at the The Bar, so great, see ya then.

I also got asked out on a date recently. Which was kinda intriguing. I mean, how awesome is it when a girl asks me out? Totally awesome. I love when girls ask me out. Doesn't happen very often.

So I gave it a shot. She's a sweet girl, again, she's a young one. Some mildly awkward getting to know you conversation over a cup of tea. Then star gazing in a field. I can't say I felt major sparks going off, and its probably not a good idea to mention there's schizophrenia on both sides of your family, but honesty is always appreciated. I mean, girls are crazy enough as it is. But I'm not entirely sure if a second date is going to fly. And I'm still on the fence about the ring tone you chose for your phone. Bird calls? Could be considered cool by some... someone into watching birds perhaps, but I'm not sure I'm up for that kind of activity, unless maybe you could drink booze while doing it. Perhaps...

And just when I thought I couldn't lose anymore, the x decides to text me the dreaded news I've been waiting to hear... She will now be working back at the restaurant two days a week. So yeah, I'm this close to throwing my hands up, taking a knee, and just bowing out of the game for a while.

Like that will actually happen.

...

S.'s cat, Frankenstein, escaped last week. It was a major bummer, cuz S. is utterly attached to Franko. Distraught. I don't like seeing my friends that way. But thank the powers that be, cuz a week later, Sunday, Frankenstein came home.

...

I'm planning a vacation, finally. This time around I'll be heading Chicago way, to visit my old haunts, and see some good people. And then I'll be hanging with the family for a few days, which should be humerous, because they will get to meet Leonard in his full glory for the first time.

...

And I accidentally set my mustache on fire last night. Again. One of the scariest feelings in the world. Almost as bad as the feeling of realizing the water in the toilet is not going down, but the other direction.

Gaius' Four Laws of Potentiality

...

Oh, man. Oh man, oh man.

I've been working on some theories, pertaining to my recent attempts to enter the world of dating again. Let us begin with Gaius' Four Basic Laws of Potentiality:

The First Law, the Law of Undeniable Denials: When one decrees that one shall in fact be ready to embark upon a new relationship of some sort, when one endlessly pines for love, and demands of the world their request for partnership of some sort, there shall be nothing on the horizon, nor any potentials of any sort, no matter how badly one wants something.

The Second Law, the Law of Happy Accidents: After months upon months of scouring every bar, coffee shop, and gasp, even their place of employment, and coming up empty handed, One will eventually decide that they no longer require such love. In fact, One will become content with solitude. One will find solace in being alone, and will no longer be lonely. Life shit will get done and One will feel accomplished, sort of. Until one bloody day, some stranger out of nowhere will somehow crash in to your life, and One will find themselves in a potential dating situation, despite almost willing to be alone. Crushes will be had, symbolic trinkets will be exchanged, texts and such, and then comes the rain.

The Third Law, the Law of Pouring Rain: After finding an object for new romance, One will become suddenly happy and content, and will return to One's pining ways, assuming crush reciprocates attention. But of course, once the potential has been set, one or more strangers will suddenly come out of bloody nowhere, showering One with attention of various sorts, i.e., getting hit on at bars, or asked out on dates, whatever. One becomes confused, and asks, "Where the fuck was all this, like, six months ago."

The Fourth Law, the Law of Unrequited Reciprecations: One will attempt to play the field, will stay up late at night trying to pull apart each emotion One is having, will over-analyze everything to dust, will weigh pros and cons of each situation, and will then set up the Game Plan. But no matter how well the plan is lain, no matter how well the game is played, no matter just how many players are involve, One will eventually screw it up, or Potentials will lose interest at the most severe moments, and thus all will be lost. One will end up alone, again, and then back to the First Law, eventually, after much soul searching, drinking, and god knows what else.

...


Law number three seems to be in full affect right now. And its slightly driving me ape-shit.

Because I don't really know how to play "the game," nor do I really want to. Why can't two people that like each other just f-ing decide to like each other and move from there.

I'm basically deciding right now, I just want to have some fun, and enjoy the rest of summer. If you're not with me, then your against me, so be it.

Now, if anyone needs me, I'll be somewhere else. Or something. Not thinking about girls.

All Your Summer Songs are Belong to Us

...

My brain has been all gooey for a while now. Too many late nights at the The Bar, though for good reasons.

I kind of let my hopes go up a little too high there, for a second. But its what I do when a seemingly magical girl pops up on the radar, someone I actually want to spend much of my time with comes along.

I'm still quite foolish when it comes to this business. After all these years, after this long broken year.

Things are good though.

Squid came up from Austin for some much needed R & R, so we took her out and get her properly drunk, as is our way. This led to many shenanigans, and some awkward time with ex, which actually wasn't that awkward. I think I've finally let go of dramatizing things when she's around. We did hang out three nights in a row, in a drunken situation, and no drama nor other conduct occurred. Just civil conversations.

Though, my god, my stomach is seriously in a state of despair, as always, due to one too many spirits.

...

Thursday, Leonard and I volunteered ourselves for a circus event as thrown by my favorite ladies of the local Burlesque troop that I'm quite fond of. Unfortunately I volunteered to run the
"games," which were quite low budget, and only about five people actually played the games, which were rigged anyway. I did wear my most favorite suit, and waxed the shit out of my moustache, and had a grand time playing a character of sorts, though I was anxious to get to drinking, and received several free drink tokens as payment. Score!

...

We pulled a Batman Friday evening. (Batman = leaving somewhere suddenly, and without saying goodbye, just like Batman does) Somehow in my stupor, I convinced the girl I've recently been smitten with to escape the confines of the The Bar, and we walked to my house
to talk and such. She surprised me first, asking me if it was ok to kiss, and my god, like I would say no.

Unfortunately shortly after our initial make-out, drunk friends walked by, and suddenly we found ourselves overrun with drunk people who promptly drank most of my beer. Then the roommate showed up in a terribly drunken state wearing a fine pair of adult diapers, with more people in tow, and we had ourselves quite a little party on our hands. Luckily we pulled our second Batman of the night and escaped to our room, girl and I, and promptly fell asleep listening to a sacred album.

Though it remains up in the air as to what's going on between us. She's in a bad situation with her ex, i.e. still living with him, and unable to jump into another relationship at the moment, which sort of complicates things, like when we kissed and such, so signals are somewhat perplexing to read right now.

I'm trying my best not to end up in the friend zone, yet remain supportive as a friend, and to not become the ultimate puppy dog in this situation, a role I've played before, one I don't quite like.

This stuff is never easy, is it?

...

Work is killing me again. I need a break. I'm thinking of hitting up Chicago next month. I haven't been there in quite sometime, and look forward to returning to some old haunts of mine. Plus oldest friends will be in town, one of which recently got back in touch with me, out of the blue and most welcome.

...

I'll try to update more, but gah, I don't know why, I'm sort of in a state of not getting much accomplished again. Music is low on the list, and I owe some people some Cd's I still have yet to mail, and with friends in town, and girls, as always, well, I've been distracted.

Of course, I'm pretty sure only one or two people actually read this thing anyway, so its pretty much like a private letter to the two of ya.

Oh, and she couldn't find those chips by the by. Slightly disappointed, but me thinks I know where I can get them, come August.

This Turn, This Sweetness

I f-ing love these chips. And someone is bringing me a bag of them tomorrow from Chicago. The red bag flavor. Oh man, this guy is excited.

...

I've been in a funk of sorts. A minor depression. A summer lull.

Nothing's particularly wrong. I just feel out of sorts. Very exhausted all day, and sort of weepy at night, about a general lack of intimacy, or closeness with people.

For probably a month now.

Even though I'm out and about with people all night at the bar.

...

But all of that turned, a week ago. The fourth of July will forever be remembered. Such a sweet day. S. and B. made me lunch, veggie burgers, macaroni salad (the best homemade stuff ever), and corn on the cob. We then went over to a local school and played on the playground equipment like seven year olds, and kicked a soccer ball around a big field. I ran around the field in quick bursts of speed, and I realized I couldn't remember the last time I ran, or played sports, or any sort of real physical activity. We climbed on the school's roof.

Then i took a sweet nap, and groggily made my way to the The Bar. There was someone there. Someone. Some one. One girl that I've known for probably 8 years, one of my first crushes ever in this town.

She used to come into the bar I worked at all the time, and would drink PBR and write in her notebook.

She is, of course, absolutely gorgeous. And has two of the best tattoos ever.

..

She asked me for my number, and we talked about life and stuff, while she waited for her beer. When she went back over to her table near the dartboards, I bit my knuckle, and thought, "Holy shit. She asked me to hang out."

Later I got asked to play darts, and stationed myself at her table, while I waited to throw. This plan worked wonderfully, except for when the ex walked up to me, and tried to have a conversation with me. Awkward. Luckily I had the darts to take me away. After that struggle, the crazy German man that haunts me at the bar now, tried to converse with me and the girl. After that onslaught, the dart game finished, friends went upstairs, I finally found myself alone with her.

..


We bought a six pack, and sat on the steps of my apartment, chatting and catching up. Then we went into my room to watch an episode of Battlestar Galactica, (she's a fan), and promptly fell asleep in my bed.

I made her coffee, and as I ground up the beans, my dumb ass forgot to put the cartridge that collects the grinds back on the machine. Coffee crumbs shot out all over me and the floor, and stove...

..

I'm swooning, majorly. I haven't felt something like this in a long, long time. It just feels like, after such a long journey, such a rough ride, I've finally come home.

...

She's bringing me a bag of chips.

...

This summer turned that day. And then the next night, hanging out at the The Bar, in walks Drue B@rremore, who is filming a movie in town. (She's headed to Austin soon. Get ready for it). I got asked to be an extra by her assistants. Then Drue told me I have sweet chops.

My mustache is out of control these days. But hey, it could possibly have landed me a role in a major motion picture. I don't even really care if I get in, I just want my mustache to be famous.

I called the number they gave me, and I kind of fumbled and it didn't go so well. I was given an email address and told to send in my resume.

!

Resume? Uh, ok. Have at it, its pretty bleak.

I haven't heard back yet. We'll see.

...

And last night, the rapper Fve walked into the The Bar. Celebrities abound. They will have seen my mustache in person.

Guess who else is in town? Jul1ette Louis, Fllen P@ige, and Zooey Deshin@L.

WTF?!!

I'll admit I'm a little star struck. I should never have opened my big fat mouth at work. Cuz now everyone is giving me shit for it.

...



I bought this yesterday. It really comes with a little comb. Leonard now has the Rollie Fingers curl starting up. Its outstanding.

...

Manic, Warm Beer

Hello there. I'm Bob Ross. Do you like cauliflower? I'm today's random image. Nice to meet you!

...

I'm exhausted and I need a vacation. I seem to be stuck in endless, repetitive loops of bizarre emotions and my constant inability to get done any of the things I say I'm going to do. Instead I spend too many nights going out to the bars in hopes of summer fun and antics, stay up way too late and then barely sleep and sluggishly make my way through each day.

That and work is making me manic. Half of my shifts are a constant struggle with a massive workload that people seem unwilling to help me with. My "new" boss of sorts seems rather out of touch with the workload I have on a daily basis, and seems to consider my work ethic rather lackluster. This coming from the same person I've seen time and time again milk the clock over and over again.

Especially since we work the same job on the other half of my shifts which I constantly leave early on because there is little work to be done. I lose five hours a week on average, which I've almost been making up for on my first shifts, thanks to massive work loads and long days. He literally told me to "work slower. Pace yourself." Since when is this a viable solution, coming from someone who is now a manager?

I consider myself a patient person, but not when it comes to standing around and staring at walls at the work place. I'd much rather be somewhere else, or, in fact, busy with some kind of meaningful task at work.

I was also planning a trip down to Texas at the end of the month, but I think he's taking off that same week, and since he writes the schedule now, I may be out of luck, since he's the only one who can cover my first, extremely busy shifts...

...

Xerxes, a rather large dishwasher, and ex-alcoholic, came up to me the other day and asked if I liked drinking beer.

I laughed for a good five minutes. Silly, silly question.

He then offered me two, very warm cans of Bud Light he found in the back of a taxi cab that morning.

Not my first choice in beverages, but hey, its free, and I'll pretty much drink anything.

He doesn't like seeing anything go to waste, and I agree.

I drank them last night, but was sure to drink my good beer first, to mask the skunk flavor.

...

But I do so need a vacation. This routine I'm on isn't going to change by itself. I can't shake this rut.

...

Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. And I'm somewhat completely ambivalent. Fireworks never held much appeal for me. Nor am I especially patriotic or political for that matter. But I would like to witness a fine barbecue display, somewhere. I'm lacking on the summer activities still.

...

I'm dreading my phone lately. That's all I can muster on that subject.

...

Oh, and I owe some people some cd's in the mail, but am extremely lazy. Probably by next week, cuz my day off is tomorrow and Saturday, and the post office may be closed. Not sure about Saturday, but I'll do my best.

After a Day

June has nearly vanished, in a drunken haze of alcohol and other substances. I realized I've been to one barbecue, and have not done anything remotely summer-y. I suppose that's how it goes.

...

Work has been utter mayhem. Busy upon busy, and extremely frustrating. I do not ask for help from my higher-ups very often, and sometimes they do condescend to lend a hand, but really, when I do ask for help, it means I really need it, and to not receive said help, and get attitude in return, kind of makes me really angry.

In return my attitude tends to drift towards the dark side of the force, and when things happen like my coworker putting sugar in recipes mistaking it for salt, well, I can't say I give all that much of a damn. It kind of made the dressings taste better in a weird way. I just hope no diabetics eat that stuff.

And I've known the new assistant manager for quite a long time. We actually lived together back in college, and he's been sort of peripheral friend that way. So when he gives me major attitude, and tends to have the opinion of me that I still don't know what I'm doing at this job, even though I've been doing it almost two years now, well, I say fuck you to that. His power hard-on is beginning to show, and its almost insulting.

Just leave me alone, or help me and actually help me when you say you will. I'll be sort of more pleasant to work with, and not ruminating over the endless ways I could destroy our shared place of employment.

Thanks.

...

I'm considering taking a hiatus from the ladies. (And I might actually mean it this time... maybe...). Parts of me are still broken. And its apparent in my emotional state. Which waivers from time to time to being insufferably weepy and wanting attention, to not wanting anything at all.

She's a great girl, lots of fun to hang out with. Could learn to handle her liquor better, but I guess that comes with age and alcoholism. But something is not right about it all. Its not clicking into place, and even if it did, I'm not sure I'd want it to.

And I heard a rumor about the ex. The one about quitting your job. Because I really hope you don't plan on coming back to the restaurant. Because I know you stopped by there the other day, and had been "kicking around the idea of picking up shifts here and there..." Let's just say I'll be really pissed off if you do.

...

Ahem. Oh, and great news. Snowflake is off the medication. Which means he's really hyper. And also mentioned he's planning on moving sometime in the near future. Which some of you may think is a great boon, but guess where one of his destinations is going to be?

Austin!

.


...

And my latest internet addiction is taking over. I'll find myself cracking myself up all day long, thinking about some of the posts on this forum. I will also stay up really late, night after night, perusing the boards. I feel lame, and anti-social, yet strangely connected to this fascinating, obscene little world. I'd talk about it, but its against the rules. I'm already in danger.

...

And your random image for today, is Baby-Suit Man.

I'll Show You Mine...

Hey there. Today's random image is of George Carlin. Good night, sweet prince.

...

Summer drones on. Actually that's not true. Its really just flying by, and I've only recently done anything Summer-y. Like the barbecue. That's about it. I really got to get into some water, soon.

...

My band played its first show tonight. It almost didn't happen.

At first we got bumped because one of our members was still working, so we let two bands go on before us.

Then the cops came. Noise violation imminent, unless things got real quiet.

Then we almost got bumped entirely. I'll admit I got angry. But I understood the reasons. Actually the police are rather quite nice about the music shows offer at the venue, the local punk rock collective house. They give the tickets, but either people chip in, or we respectively carry on in whatever way we can.

I stormed out. Well, more like sauntered sullenly out the door, claiming I couldn't take it anymore. I understood the situation, but I was still mad.

Our first show! Granted I almost missed a super sweet band from NYC, who came all the way, on tour, to play my little town, my little punk rock collective house.

I ended up coming back after walking a block or so. I was still mad, but I decided to be a better sport about it. Though I just needed to leave for a bit, and be angry somewhere else.

Then we played only three songs of our four song set. He. Its only thirteen minutes long. Yeah, but its our first show! On borrowed instruments, so it kind of sounded bad. Kinda real bad, but knowing this band, this was like destiny, it should have happened this way. We did all right. People seemed very receptive. Those that stayed beyond the drama with the cops.

I also licked a man's sweaty nipples, yes, both of them, for two beers. We drank all our booze before we played, thinking we'd have played much sooner. I needed them. So I went up to the guy with the thirty pack of PBR in his satchel, and said, "I'll suck your titties for a beer." And he replied, "Ha, you said titties, plural, you gotta lick both of them..." And I did. That beer was delicious, I don't care what anyone says. His nips tasted of sweat, salt and beer. Yum.

This man also got completely naked during our three song set. I got to see his cock and balls. Right in front as we played our set. I couldn't really look up while I played. For obvious reasons. Cuz there was some dude's junk, in my face. And I licked his nipples just moments before.

This is why I love the punk rawk house.


...

I feel so good right now. Much needed attention from friends, very clutch. Good words of wisdom, concerning life and love.

Right now I'm going to eat the fuck out of some Ben and Jerry's. Good night.