No, I Mean, I Really Love My Mustache

I will be attending a wedding this weekend, of my good friends S. and B.

Its kind of a sore spot for me. Well, more like a bruise, even though ultimately I don't really need to feel sore about it. I mean, its their wedding, and I'm totally happy and excited for them, and its their day.

I still feel a little weird going to it.

I'm not trying to project my own shit on it, but yeah, its there.

In the mean time though, some good peoples will be arriving this weekend to attend, and I'm greatly looking forward to catching up with some good friends.

Like today, when I had a visitor stop by the restaurant to say hello, my old, old friend J. My friend J. I used to love so much, such a bro-mance, our drinking out of control, our stories legendary, our antics foolish and completely fun. Though he developed a problem with the booze among other things, and sort of fell apart there.

We'll be having dinner tonight, and will be hanging out for much of the weekend. This is so awesome. He seems to be doing so much better these days.

...

My mustache is awesome.

I mean, totally awesome.

I once vowed never to grow one, except maybe in jest as I left the mustache on for a bit after shaving the beard. My reason being that my father's had one for as long as I've been alive. You know, father issues.

But something in me just decided, now was the time.

I'm also going to be breaking another vow of mine, in the form of getting myself a Myspace page. A Myspace page that will totally be dedicated to my mustache. And its going to totally sweet.

I will give the link once I make the page, which will hopefully happen sometime on Friday.

In other mustache news, I almost got myself banned from the Cafe, mainly because whenever I'd go there to watch hockey with S, the Red Wings always seemed to lose. I had become a bad luck charm, and the owner figured it was me.

That is, until I showed up one night with the mustache in tow. Suddenly the Wings are doing just fine, and now I'm welcomed with open arms. My rally mustache will take this team to the top, I can feel it.

Its funny, though. Me watching sporting events. I've never really cared for sports, and always kind of kept up on the teams just for the sake of those conversations about sports that always come up at work with the people I don't know very well.

But I'm finding I do actually like watching hockey, of all the sports, mainly because its actually really intense pretty much throughout the game. Plus there's fighting, a lot of fighting, and its just acceptable. Not that I'm one for violence, but damn. That and its one of the few excuses I have to hang out with S. without B. around. They're one of those couples, the kind that can't do anything apart for the most part.

That and I really like yelling when I'm drunk. So sometimes I yell things at the TV during games, just to be funny about it.

...

I wish some days I could read people's minds.

I'm having trouble with figuring out someone's intentions.

Its kind of consumed my brain for the last week, and I don't know what to think about it all. Because mainly I've been over thinking everything, and that gets me nowhere, and then I'm left with emotions, and even those have been out of sorts, well, yeah, most of the time, but now more than ever.

...

And my roommate, bless her, has been totally slutting out lately. I swear she's doing it just to show me up, me and my unrequited lust and totally amazing "almost" sex life.

So far Mustache has yet to work its magical charms.

Eh. I'm not too concerned with the sex anymore. Which is good. Lust is a powerful drug. And has gotten me into trouble in the past.

...

Beyond that, life is so far, so good.

My thoughts on movement remain in the undecided state.

As someone put it the other day, those of us that live here in this town, year after year despite winter vows of someday getting out forever, we choose to live here if only for those four great months of Summer.

I've been having so much fun lately. I'm enjoying my living situation, I have cheap (enough) rent, and work is tolerable, gasp, has even been fun as well. I'm no longer harshing myself for some of the bad decisions I've made in life. I feel content again, to just be me, and do what I do.

I like me again.

My Awesome Day

I just awoke from a luxurious three hour, decadent nap, in which I had intense dreams involving sex and other misadventures, and I was also wearing an equally intense cowboy hat.

I've also been spending my day in decadence, because quite frankly I deserve it, after making it through the last weeks of work, which have been utterly exhausting.

I slept in until 11:30, made my coffee and finished up some sewing projects, sewing projects I've meant to do for years; a patch that has on it a reindeer and says, "Reindeer Valley" on my military surplus coat that I wear everywhere, and also attached an old patch that had once resided on my first ever man-bag, also a canvas military surplus bag, that I once thought I would live out of one day. I attached it to my new man-bag, a canvas one similar, though not exactly military surplus.

I was sure to cut the patch off the old bag, taking a square out of the old bag, so as to have a small piece of it with me still. I'm sentimental like that, sometimes. I hope future
bags will also wear the patch as well, which will become layer after layer of canvas, and slowly grow outwardly through the years.

...

Then I watched some sci-fi shows. Why did they ever cancel "Firefly?" I mean, really. What the fuck!

Then I got breakfast at the diner, and then to the cafe for a beer outside on the patio, which for some reason whenever I sit at that table, all the crazies in town descend upon me requesting cigarettes, lighters, and monies. And sometimes strange hippy women decide to introduce themselves to me, telling me I have a great aura, and want to show me their artwork, and talk and stuff... this has happened twice now.

No thank you.

You see, this means that the mustache has not worked. Last night I came to the conclusion my mustache is now my furry shield, my shield to ward off those less-desirable ilk that may try to bring me harm.

I've decided that if I do meet any girls any time soon, they had better accept me for who I am, and accept the mustache I wear proudly on my face. If they don't, they ain't worth my time.

Apparently mustaches do not phase the hippy girls who can read my aura. Maybe my aura can grow a mustache too.

...

Walking home, I saw this man who was very bearded and shaggy, walking a teeny-tiny shaggy dog, and I laughed out aloud because they looked so similar. I love when dogs resemble their owners, and vice versa.

...

And tonight I shall watch the next installment of Battlestar Galactica. It shall be awesome.

...

The drama continues. I'm hoping things don't escalate tonight. I'm hoping the cell phone stays silent.

...

Allergies still completely suck.

...


I just sneezed four times.

...


And last night was the most fun I've had going out to the bars in a long time. I visited three different ones, for three different groups of friends, and had amazing conversations through and through, and drank entirely too much, though I did mix actually water into my drink rotation.

I know I've been kinda worried about my intake lately. But I'm also enjoying myself immensely. I suppose one shouldn't require booze to have fun, but I fancy myself a bar fly. I like it. It suits me.

And I'm going to do it again tonight.

...

And ooooohhh snap! The cell phone just spoke. Trouble, and the night is young.

I love My Mustache!

Any day now. The leaves will be back. Its the one moment of the Spring I most look forward to, when everything is green again, and alive.

Unfortunately the very trees these leaves will live upon, are causing me utter hell. Most specifically the flowering of the trees, and the tree sperm it releases, the million particles of tree sperm that are assaulting my eyeballs, my throat, my running nose. Allergies are vicious this year.

...

I'm utterly exhausted. Work as been insanely busy. The work load is fierce; tensions are running high, there's so much work to be done. I've come home and literally fallen into bed, and had delirious naps that don't really do anything for you, the groggy kind of nap. And then I've consumed generous amounts of alcohol on top of this.

I've been feeling very comfortable with hanging out in bars again. Like, too comfortable. Like I don't feel right staying at home...

Work will also be featured on a certain someone's television talk show, and it could be a really huge thing.

Sigh. Not tonight. No bar for me tonight. Instead I opted to take care of sick roommate, and watch some shows, under the influence of other sorts of greens.

Giggle.

...

The summer drama may be beginning quite early this season. In fact, dare I say its well under way.

That's all I got about that right now.

...

As I walked over to band practice the other night, I walked the same route I used to walk home everyday, when I lived in that house. About a block away from the house, I saw an old television set sitting on the side of the road. I did a double take and realized it was my old TV set, one I had for years and years, a very old, but durable set, the kind where you had to program the channels manually. Yeah, old.

I went up and clicked the on button for old times sake, cause I liked the noise it made. I half-thought that I might take it, plug it in, see if it still works. See if the new owners of it broke it or something. I'd be mad if they had, even though I relinquished ownership of it during the last great move out. But then I wondered what I'd do with it. I haven't turned on my tv in months. My lap tap pretty much owns me now.

It would be just another thing in my life, a memory collector, junk I don't need.

...

My mustache is coming in thick, and huge.

There are two camps of opinion out there. The first camp believes the stache to be very, very creepy. I feel creeped out just sporting it. Mother's literally hug their children a little tighter when I walk by. Its the look I'm going for. Also very early Seventies, gay, porn sort of stache.

The other camp believes that it suits me surprisingly well, they 'almost' like it. I'm not sure which camp is better. Every time I look in the mirror I see my dad for a split second.

We have yet to see if the ladies go for it. I'm betting they won't. I'm really hoping they won't.

Its Not Coca-Cola, its Rice

We had some really witty banter at work today.

The topic of discussion: the recent discovery of a restaurant somewhere in Arizona that bears a strikingly, similar resemblance to the one I work in. Similar artwork, design, nearly identical menu items... We found it quite humorous, and pondered the possibilities that it was in fact an alternate universe restaurant, exactly like our own, and that the staff consisted of Bizarro versions of ourselves, with lives and personalities similar to our own, only more successful version of ourselves.

My alternate-universe-restaurant me would be a successful writer, singer-songwriter on the side, who only works at the restaurant because he truly loves it, doesn't care for money... He's also happily engaged and coming out with a book in the fall. And his mustache is way, way cooler than the one I am growing.

Then we listed all the complaints and problems we've ever had, and said after each and every one, that "they probably don't have this problem at that restaurant..."

...

But yes, most importantly the mustache (I pronounce it "Moo-stache"), is coming in nicely, as nicely as mustaches can gently grow in.

My roommate and I are currently making a movie about it, using stop-motion animation. Every night I sit in the same poses as she snaps photos. I'm really glad this process is being documented, because I don't think I'll ever be able to grow another one again.

...

The girl-who-leaves-forever-tomorrow and I have said our goodbyes. A most memorable night out to the local sports/frat/jock/sorority/college/ bar that I have never, ever set foot in, and probably never will again. But it was an adventure. And then we made out. A lot.

Agreements to keep in touch, possibly visits, promises of "I will see you again..."

I'm not so sure overall. Will we?

I'm glad it happened either way. One friend called it a rebound relationship with an expiration date, perfect for you.

...

Then there was the call from the X-f, the first in a long time. Twenty minutes of conversation. Then she invited me to a party at her place this weekend.

I've been triple guessing this, twisting it around in my head, putting it under the microscope, and most of all trying not to think about it. Wondering if there's motives. Or something, or maybe I'm overreacting.

Still thinking its not a good idea for me to go.

An odd coincidence too, that roommate pointed out, I get a call the day this girl leaves.

...

I have decided I'm being silly about all of this. Why am I so quick to muck about with girls again?

True, the lust factor is in overdrive, the warm weather is here, the leaves are gonna pop any day now, I saw my first bumble bee, and spiders are invading the house again. I invite the spiders into my bathroom. Then they can feast on ants.

Yes they still are invading, with frequent raids. They have developed a smaller model of ant, that is really teeny-tiny. I wonder if they're biological weapons of some sort, designed to infiltrate the hole I'm still trying to plug up in the shower where they get in.

...

I digressed. I'm leaning towards a new policy for myself - no going after the ladies. Or at least not desiring it so much. Let it come to me, or not at all. I'm ignoring all interest from girls for a while. Or perhaps my own interest for girls.

Of course the minute I seriously believe I am capable of such a feat, the day I actually feel it, that's when I meet someone new that really fucks me up and gets inside.

...

I've also been listening to the Clash song, "Straight to hell" like, numerous times. Its been in my head for two weeks straight. I can't get that groove out of my head.

Onions

Arrrrggghhh! I just wrote an amazing post about the totally fabulous day I had today, and somehow managed to delete it.

Especially since I haven't been feeling really blog talkative lately, the moment I'm ready to do this, I lose it all...

I cannot recreate it.

But I had an amazing day today, and I feel as if no moment of it was wasted on any sort of frivolous activity.

The bit about me throwing out some old clothes, specifically the socks that have lost their pairs, yet I still hold onto thinking that one day they'll reappear just as they had magically disappeared years ago, the cleanest socks in the world that never left the basket, but still got washed in every load.

Oh, and the part about the soon-to-be-leaving-forever-on-Monday-girl. We went shopping at the mall, which is usually a horrifc experience for me, but somehow with her there, I felt ok. Then we drove to a park to play on swings and playground equipment, and lay on a blanket making out in the awesomely warm Spring breeze and setting sun.

I feel fifteen years old again. This is a good thing.

And now I'm laying in bed with the window open wider than its been all winter. It is perfectly comfortable now, and I'm dozing off, not completely drunk. (things have been sort of out of hand on that front lately)

That's all I can recreate at this moment.

I had a great day today.

That it is all

I swear, every time I've sat down to update this thing with the best of intentions, I just, in the immortal words of my friend P., "just couldn't bring myself to do it."

I wish I had a really good excuse, but really I've just been drunk and lazy, lately.

...

Really, its probably sixty degrees outside. Finally, though I know, knowing Michigan winters, that we're probably due for another snow storm sometime this month. It never gives up that easily.

But I'll take it. Walking to work without my winter coat. Its a wonderful thing.

For me, the first official day of Spring is the day the leaves suddenly return, quite suddenly, almost overnight; one day you wake up and suddenly everything is green again. Life wells up all around you.

But with the Spring comes great irresponsibility. Namely in the form of my hormones, which are currently out of control.

As my roommate has pointed out, that I've come so close to actual, physical, intimate sex, but have not yet managed to pull this feat off, for better or worse.

I'm craving it right now, not even the sex part, though that is one of the main goals here, but moreover I'm craving deep, sensual, highly intimate, physical human contact.

...

Which in some ways I have already, with the lady that's moving away forever.

I'll admit those feelings are subsiding, though it is immensely nice to be excited by a girl again, somehow its not enough.

I feel all fifteen years awkward again. our make-out sessions lasting so long. The feeling of no satisfaction high in the air. Sexual frustration.

but its cool, because I respect your decisions, and your reasons. Mayhaps I should focus on my own, but I'm afraid I'm only going after that act, and I'm not sorry for it.

Hormones are out of control.

...

So much has happened in the last week. Two weeks.

I almost lost my job thanks to a certain month first day prank someone I know pulled on such a day. My video game playing is out of control, as well as certain other vices.

ugh, my drinking is out of control...

Anyways, sorry I haven't updated in so long. I'll try to piece things together, but I've never been a good getting-shit together type of person.

But right now I need sleep. Crave it.