Gaius Prep Cook

The Other Side of Mt. Heartattack/The Horse You Ride

2011-09-19T02:16:00.009-04:00

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So good.

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I've just spent the last few hours rereading this entire blog I've kept (sort of kept) over the last four years.

I guess this really isn't much of a blog. Like I said on the phone, its my way of dealing/not dealing with frustrating things that happen to me, largely personal, and mostly about relationships with the ladies.

In fact, it started out, albeit ill-fatedly, as a means to vent frustrations about the workplace, mostly in an anonymous fashion, as I still possess a sense of internet paranoia today. (the, 'someone I know might find this blog and report me at work' sense). Also trying my hand at comedy, and then it turns to tragic-comedy. Further more, it started out as an attempt to also catalog what was at the time, my engagement, and how my ex-f and I were just about to really start building our lives together. That of course, did not come to pass.

I took down most of the posts pertaining to her, at least the initial posts, not because they were too painful to reread, but mainly because they were awkward. And since she knew of this blog at the time, the first ten or so posts contained edits to some of the situations, parts where I gave-in to some of her demands, and rereading them now I sort of feel a sense of shame on my part. What little backbone I had then.

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Then the blog really begins to deteriorate. The aftermath. The rebuilding, the re-socialization back into this fine community. All the smoking, the drinking, night after night at the bar. All of the struggles with dating, my fragile, futile attempts to "put my life together." To bust out of the basement of prep cookery. Sometimes I'm amazed I've made it this far.

Still, this is how my life has gone for the most part. And beyond the first awkward entries, I can't edit it now. Though at the moment I'm contemplating giving you the web address for this site. You've asked to read it. And part of me is a little afraid of what you might think, but then again, I'm hoping that this, too, can be counted as a judgement free zone. These are the events in my life, that have made me who I am today. And since you're my partner, I don't feel a strong need to hide things from you. You know, so cleverly hidden on the INTERNET. In public view.

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And why for some reason, I find it safer to shout out my personal drama into the void, I'm not sure. I've only shown this blog to a few of you who actually know me, those few of you who may or may not still check up on this thing, which is cool if you don't, I'll admit I've been very not into reading yours, nothing personal against it, I just kinda stopped reading blogs altogether. And to my ever loving spam bots, Russian spam bots really like my blog, thanks.

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Once again, I may or may not update this thing. Probably. I mean, christ, there's evidence of my 'deciding' to 'finally' break down and get netflix... in 2007! I officially just got it two months ago.

Funny, though, the last post I had written, from December 30th, 2010, I hadn't posted until tonight. I do now remember not finishing it, mainly because I was about to launch into a tirade about romantic comedies, at which point I probably decided it was best to stop. Also this post is really funny, because, well, you know, the next day/night we ended up seeing each other on the dance floor, and then kissed. And then I awkwardly pulled you aside to tell you about the girl I had been on five dates with. I just wanted you to know I wasn't a douche bag.

So read on if you must. Or do not. Skip around, stay awhile. Just know it's all honest. Fairly raw writing. I made some bad choices over the years. And some good ones. Just don't judge me!

Song in Numbers

2010-12-30T02:19:00.004-05:00

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Riders of Brohan, what news from the mark?

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I feel like complaining. So that's just what I'll do.

I guess my baggage is this: I'm a little tired after wading through shit for the last three years. I'd like something to be worthwhile, some glimmer of hope, some sort of Plan A action, where you have, in fact, have chosen me as a suitor.

I swear I'm good for it. That's what all the ex's tell me. How much of a nice guy I am, how I'll make someone so happy some day, how awesome I am.

I mean, fuck, I won't cheat on you. At all. I can pretty much only handle one lady at a time, if that, so don't worry, there will be no two timing.

And I think I'm learning these days, now that I've crossed the thirties threshold, and have been through some shit, how to talk about it all, openly and honestly.

I guess I just can't expect people who are roughly the same age as me to act accordingly. I'm not perfect, but damn. I keep thinking people will take me as openly and honestly as I take them. This is the lesson I will not learn.

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I'm aggravated at the moment because I just don't know how to read you. I mean, we've been on five dates, so I'm not expecting marriage and babies and shit, but the clear signal just isn't coming through. There's the hot, then the cold, and the last text message I've received was both. I just didn't know how to respond, so I didn't.

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Gotta stop trying to date in the middle of a Michigan winter. Every goes nuts in the winter.

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But this is just when it happens for me. And this time, last night, i saw glimpses of "oh wow, this person is actually special. I think it could work..." And then I get excited, and then...

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Then I think a lot. Sometimes too much. Which I've already been doing. But I think its coming from you, honestly. I'm ready for something real. And I'm better at reading the red flags, and actually trying to heed them, rather than blindingly blazing ahead. Which I tend to jump in too soon, but damn, hey, humanity, I'm not the first. Most people do. Otherwise we wouldn't have too many stupid Romantic comedies.

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I really hate Rom Coms. More-so I hate people that actually think that's how love should be. Its fake! A fantasy!

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Men

2010-07-25T21:31:00.003-04:00

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I would very muchly like to know...

This extends to far too many people I know these days.

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But I suppose I'm too afraid to ask.

Which isn't entirely true. I could very well perfectly ask you directly like a grown-up might, but let's face it, grown-ups don't exactly ever act like grown-ups 100% of the time. If they did this world we all share may be somewhat more of a tolerable place for everyone to live. But alas, we all seem to expect other people to act grown-up, while we shout our own heads off, temper tantruming the whole way through it all.

I want to sing songs about people's over-inflated sense of self-entitlement.

No one has ever been hurt as badly as you have.

No one.

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Lately I've been feeling as if I'm secretly some sort of a drama queen. Or not secretly. Maybe people actually say that about me, behind my back. I don't know, I haven't asked anyone, but I'm very tempted some days. "What do you really think of me?"

Now, I haven't exactly updated this thing, or any other kind of journal or diary, or anything, for some time, but that doesn't mean all sorts of crazy shit doesn't keep happening to me. And in my defense, I feel like I'm a reasonably adjusted adult, have held a steady job for some time now, have a stable home life, getting older now, that I'm into my thirties... I feel more adult than I ever have, but sometimes adult things do not happen to me. And I quickly revert to some childish mindset, which is kind of odd...

There's currently two major upsets going on in my life at the moment. One, involving a coworker, which has gotten so blown out of proportion, I hate admit thinking about outside of work, but its getting to me.

The other, involving my love life, which is of course always in some sort of tortuous state, which this time I didn't even do anything wrong, but I'm going to (about to) get reamed for it, and its going to fuck up a lot of the things I really enjoy doing with my freetime, ie. the whole burlesque thing, which is just starting to get waaaayyyy awesome, because I'm proud of what we do, and I love doing it...

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I've been friend-zoned by so many girls in my time...

Its very odd to have the shoe on the other foot.

But how could you not know I wasn't going to go for it, given what happened last time?

And I don't understand how this is my responsibility. You fell for me. How is this my fault?

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This in a long line of one happening after another... Sometimes I hope I'm like Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption, crawling through a tunnel of shit, waiting for the rain of freedom...

Then I also remember I don't exactly have it all that bad, all things considered. Like that whole third world existence thing. That I can turn a knob and get water. I have electricity. Medical care, etc.... I live in a pretty safe world, where I'm at.

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Which leads me to my other coworker, who went absolutely apeshit on me about kicking over a cardboard box, with cardboard scraps in it. Because it was in my way, and had no business being in the way, and its only cardboard. I would have offered to pick it up afterwards, but the two times you got in my face and screamed about it, I decided it was not in my best interest. This guy seriously scares me, and is now playing the "I'm going to kill you with kindness routine" because we all know that passive-aggressive means "not aggressive and I can get away with it at work, but you can't be mad about it because I'm being extra 'nice'"

Fuck that.

But yeah, hey, coworker, guess what, you win. Because I'm still thinking about this shit, when really, its so insignificant.

Then again, that's life.

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Everything that shines ain't always going to be gold.

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Huff. Just needed to get some things off the brain, or at least into the great void of the internet.

This One is Cursed

2010-03-31T23:03:00.002-04:00

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Makes me lol every time.

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I'm still having trouble acclimating, honestly. About a great many things.

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I finally went and got myself off on the vacation I've been needing to take for so very long now. I've been back to work for almost two weeks now. In reality, it took about 32 minutes on my first day back for the familiar feeling to descend... "Oh, yeah... I have to work for a living. In this place. This is how work is."

Right where I left it, I suppose... Not that this is an admonishment that I dislike my job. No. No. No. I greatly appreciate the company I work for, and the work I do. It gets a little crazy there, like any job, and its not a utopian society, by any means. But I do appreciate where I'm at. I'm in a good place.

I guess, its just over the last week and a half of being back, I'm not particularly feeling it anymore. Mainly, the whole "I have to work for a living" thing, which of course we all (lucky few aside) have to do.

No. Its more the routine. I read a zine once, in which the writer remarked how they were stuck in the rut of self-improvement. They were doing things "better" (eating healthier, exercising, not swearing so much, etc- the things we always tell ourselves we're going to start doing to 'get our shit together' but never really do.) The point was that the rut of self-improvement was still a rut, and they were still stuck...

I'm partly going through with that, trying to eat healthier, and take better care of my body, eventually quitting smoking very, very soon (see above parentheses), not drinking so much (<---). And I'm making progress. Sort of.

But its deeper than that, the routine of work. How quickly my mind jumped back into its "work mode," which is all I can really call it. Just the way my thought process happens while I'm work.

Like, what do you think about at work all day? What do you daydream? What fantasies do you have while on the job?

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Some days I have entire conversations in my head. Sometimes with the girl I like at the moment. Or conversations with girls in my past that should happened, or happened a different way than I would have liked. Or conversations with someone in my life, non-girl related, that I might be in some sort of drama with. Maybe my boss, or some idiot coworker that said something completely stupid. Sometimes its scenarios that I play out over and over again that never happen.

One of my favorites, is the "I win the super jackpot lottery!!!" and think of all the shit I'd spend limitless money on. Which honestly isn't much, I guess... But who knows? I think of myself as meek and humble. I don't ask for a whole lot... Money is a great tool, and necessary, but damn, I'm not that into it honestly. But I daydream about the house I want to buy (I know exactly which one, the one I lived in before moving in with the ex-f, I don't know why. Living there just made complete sense for three years, and was awesome. I miss it dearly. People I know in town live there, and I get real weird when I go to parties there. Oh, snap. Earlier blog entries will explain it), the additions I'd make to it, shit I would buy...

And I rarely, rarely play the lottery. If at all. But I still have that day dream...

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Heh. I didn't even begin to talk about vacation...

Which was awesome in so many regards. Thank you, Chicago. Though you and I disagreed about a great many things when I lived in you, you're still there for me when I want to come visit.

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Anyways, I've kind of stumbled away from my point, which I kind of forgot what I was really trying to get to, here.

Oh, basically, all of the problems I left behind to go on vacation to get away from, are still kind of hanging around...

I mean, yeah. no. Of course.

I'm just not dealing with them, as I should be, or shouldn't be. Either trying to resolve them, or let them go (like, really let them go).

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Which really is most of life I suppose.

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I guess what I'm realizing these days is that no matter how much you think you've got your life "together" or no matter how much your life is in shambles, figuring it all out, figuring out your life, is something you're going to be doing for the rest of it. At all times. No matter what happens.

I guess I'm trying to figure out what's next...

Red Socks Pugie

2010-02-18T21:02:00.004-05:00

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Yes. Yes it is.

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It happened a week ago tonight. I was about half-way through the bottle of sake I bought after work, one of my new and improved ways of enabling alcohol to get me through the winter, an experiment if you will, when I realized that the booze wasn't helping anything anymore.

Perhaps it was the combination: loss of appetite lately, recent breakup, troubles with the band I'm in, unrelenting work stress, stress from the b company and our very important string of shows coming up, family issues, and getting sick again, on top of pretty much being sick in some form or another, (even getting food poisoning or a nasty stomach bug (still reluctant about Chinese food to this day)), since Christmas. Oh, and my usual vices, of which I have been so fond of for so very long. And that I haven't had a proper vacation in a very long time.

And the fact that its February, and I hate motha' fucking February.

Michigan winters are completely brutal to my psyche, and pretty much everyone else's as well.

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I remember a week ago checking the Cr@gslist missed connections, of which I am also fond of doing, and finding a record 7 posts in one day, that were all breakup oriented/not actual missed connections. Just lots of confused, angry souls screaming into the void to figure out what just happened.

I laughed at it, even though I was left feeling the same way...

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I was rather enjoying the sake. I have this hot plate coffee mug warmer that literally doubled as a sake warmer. I will sing its praises eternally, and is currently one of my favorite pieces of technology that has actually benefited my life. Also had a thought: mild mannered coffee warmer by day, seedy, dubious sake warmer by night.

Though I had to resort to hot water from the faucet to heat up the bottle initially, by the time you're 2/3 down to the end, the sake gets fantastically hot. Not too mention the buzz is pretty potent. Bubbly and fun, but look out. Throws a nasty drunk left hook out of nowhere, and at that point its probably best to stop drinking.

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I suppose it was the sinking realization, the gnawing in the pit of my stomach.

The booze wasn't helping. I wasn't enjoying it. Things were seriously messed in my life, all hitting me at once, almost, and there I sat, staring at the bottle, staring at the little hearts that adorn the hot plate (I found it in a thrift store. Not exactly my style of decor, but hey, it cost 2 bucks), realizing it wasn't working anymore.

I finished the bottle and tried best I could to pass out as per usual, but the recent sickness had decided to go full blown again. I hacked up goo all night, coughing non-stop, and upon waking found that my problems hadn't gone away, of course.

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Let's just say that's the closest I've come to a full on mental break-down in a long time.

And I will say this again and again, that I have some amazing friends.

And some amazing friends that I let down that day, calling off on a very important show almost entirely last minute, which screwed up some stuff...

I did manage to pull my shit together for the following show, the next day, which went awesomely, and I performed in front of a sold out show, of maybe almost a thousand people? probably less, but damn, lots of people got to see my junk.

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And there's even a coworker, I'd like to thank, who time and time again has given me sage advice in my desperate times of need.

She mentioned something a week or so ago, about quitting drinking in February, at which I scoffed, half jokingly, but yeah, more like, "are you insane? The most bone crushing, depressing month in all of Michigan, and you're quitting drinking?" I asked her that three times, just to stress the half serious part.

She simply nodded three times, each time, and said, "Yep. Best decision I've made in a while."

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Mmmmm. Sake. I can't say I enjoy the flavor at first. Sort of resembles really cheap vodka in taste at first. But something about the heat element. That last third of the bottle, so warm and steamy, the buzz inside my body, so warm on these dark and lonesome winter nights, whooo. Was really just starting to enjoy that.

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I'm off booze for a bit. Haven't drank since Monday, and even then that was 3 beers. Definitely avoiding the The Bar for a while, perhaps even longer. Let's just say dating in this small town can be quite difficult. There's a reason to be quiet about dating around here. Its a small enough, readily available dating pool, and incestuous (i.e. dating someone that someone you know has dated - basically, everybody has pretty much had sex with everybody else). and people can be quite overly dramatic about it, once they find out you're seeing someone new. Ah...

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Though at the moment I'm not too sure about the future of this blog. Its comforting to write again, to scream all my personal problems into the void again. Honestly I'm not sure how many people even read it. I've only told a few of my close friends about it, which is odd, I know, how I'll let total strangers in on some personal shit, but won't tell anyone I know about the fact I keep a blog.

In some ways I started this blog to poke fun at my current career move, (Yes, I'm still a lowly prep cook) but also started out to celebrate the fact that I had taken a serious step in a relationship, moving in with someone, getting engaged, what was supposed to be joy, cataloging our new life together... I guess I've always been somewhat uncomfortable about that, in regards to writing in this one. Psychic weight, I suppose, a term I'm borrowing from an old writing instructor of mine.

(Some days I really miss Di@ryland.)

I've also had an idea for a couple different blogs I may want to try out, not just another me ranting personal crap on the internet. But one requires I enter the technological year beyond 2000 and buy a digital camera.

We'll see.
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Singing Joy to the World

2010-02-04T10:56:00.002-05:00

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I'm coming up short these days. Apparently I've been doing it all wrong. Which is a surprise to me, considering I've had this job for the last three years and four months, and to hear that for the first time in three years and four months, is a little disheartening.

I can't go into specifics at the moment. Internet paranoia and all, which is funny, because I haven't updated this blog that no one reads in almost a year... let's just say, knowing my luck these days, I cannot be too careful.

I'm just sad, because I do like my job, and I think I do a good job. I'm content with my meager life. I'm 31 years old, I make very little money considering my level of higher education, and I've never been more comfortable with it (until four days ago). I respect my company immensely, and I feel like I'm treated very well given the nature of my work... But it seems the powers that be have some big changes in mind, and are demanding I change, too. I just think the approach they're taking is having the opposite affect then the one the are intending for me. I do lead a certain lifestyle that may not be considered normal to most people, but my personal life and the things I do outside of my job are quite important to me. And totally mine to live as I see fit.

and kind of completely f-ed up in other ways.

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Oh what tangled webs we weave.

I know my choosing to date you, dear girl, was a difficult decision to make, given the nature of our arrangement, and the complications we discussed at length would affect things, make this arrangement more difficult, but I didn't think it would be this hard.

I suppose I could tell myself, "I told you so..." That I probably should have avoided you altogether, that I knew what I was getting into and did it anyway, but hey now, what kind of fun would that be?

Let's make a mess!

Which, despite the hard decisions, I do believe there's something good in you, worth having, which is why I went for it...

I'd like to think at my age, and given the level of things I've gone through in relationships, for relationships, I could say with some certainty that I know a thing or two, by now...

But, um, no.

I'm still the goofy 15 year old idiot about girls I've always been.

I'm trying to be patient, and understanding, and there for you, but I'm not getting anything back, here. When I need it. Because I am going through a tough time, and trying to figure out my life at the moment, which is quite suddenly all up in upheaval. It seems to be a theme, "I've just got a lot of personal shit I'm going through." But in a good relationship we should help each other through it.

I understand completely the need to be alone sometimes. And if this was a long term relationship, I'd be a little more "ok, you just need a break from me." But not after a month. This is just weird.

I just feel I'm being set-up here. Set-up to be made to look like the crazy one. That I'm the one with the problem...

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Which seems to be a running theme in my life.

On a good note, its funny rereading my last post, and considering how bad I freaked out about that situation, which righted itself quite well, honestly. Problems seem so huge when you're in them. Let's just say I had some flashback issues, about girls walking out on me. Sorry old roommate. I'm glad we're still friends. Except you took my "Batman Begins" DVD. That hurt. Then again, I was somewhat responsible for that after party, and the subsequent stealing of one of your possessions. My bad.

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I need a vacation. I need a vacation. I need a vacation.

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All I can do is stay the course, wait and see how this all shapes up, and try to have a little fun here and there. I beat myself up too much when faced with difficulty. I know this. Keep breathing. Keep doing the things that bring me joy, and go on assuming that, to quote Spock from Star Trek 6, "that the universe will unfold, as it should."

Will Clap Their Hands

2009-04-21T23:42:00.004-04:00

Um. I don't even know what to say about this image. Not sure which is creepier: Turtle shells with faces positioned inappropriately, or the drool hanging from their lips. Great mustaches, though.

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Warning: Debbie Downer ahead! read at own risk! Just needing to vent!
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I don't even know what's going on right now. This winter will not die. Its hanging on by a thread, and its driving me and everyone I know insane. Roommate suddenly wants to jet off to Alaska to do something ??? and basically move out by June 1 st. I mean, I'm all for doing what you gotta do, run away from whatever, and I'm not gonna tell you how to live... but try not to drag other people into it, specifically people you share a lease with. Its really fucking up my shit, and try to give more than a month and a weeks notice. If you gotta runaway, do it, but know what you're running from, and at least get a basic plan together. Ahead of time.

On top of that, this house is literally falling apart. A giant tree fell in the back yard last Sunday. I found out about it, because I was sitting at my new, sweet desk I found on the side of the road (I love college town move out season! free shit!) in my room on my laptop, when I look out and see and hear shit hitting the side of the house, and branches moving in my window, and crap falling off the roof. I thought the aliens had come.

Also the bathroom sink is clogged, and I tried very man-like for three days to unclog it, after careful research on the subject on the internet, but to no avail. I even tried Coca-Cola, which I heard will eventually eat through most anything, like hair, and even teeth if left soaking in it for days. Like, dissolve the tooth. And people drink it every day. Hmmm. Oh, did I mention the toilet is leaking, into the floor. One day I'm going to go for a crap, and then bamn, the floor will give, and I'll be sitting on the crapper in the basement. Or cartoon like, the whole house will shift down instead, and I'll be suspended, mid air, on the john.

Moral of the story, is that unresponsive landlord isn't responsive.

Thus, I understand wanting to get out of this situation. I'm very much considering giving up this "gem" of an apartment; if not just to try something new. Lots of ghosts in this house. Not actual ones, its just got a lot of my history, history I've been so ready to leave behind. Especially with women that want to leave it, while I cohabitate with them. Sorry. Had to throw that one in there. Something shook me last night as all too familiar. Like the last one. And we're not even dating, or anything.

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whoa, tangent. I'm just pissed off about this right now, and stressed, and need a vacation, and have a been working on the burlesque stuff so much lately, which is good, but draining.

Did I mention I've almost finished my robot costume, built from cardboard from scratch, except for the most awesome Optimus Prime Helmet, that I found at the salvation army for six bucks?
With built in voice modifier? Dude. Its sweet. And saved me probably a whole days worth of work. I've probably put in over 40 hours on this project. I'm utterly sick of looking at cardboard.

But its for our next show, which is this friday. I'm pumped, but you wouldn't know it. At least I have Thursday off, completely to rest before the show. Unless I just totally cursed it by saying that. The way things are going these days...

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Ok. I feel somewhat better. Sigh. Things are changing so much again. So fast.

I secretly have an urge to steal someone's car, and just drive off somewhere wilderness-y and just camp out for a day or two. Be alone in wilderness for a bit. Clear the head out. Or something. Experience something else for a bit.

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Song for Woodthrush

2009-03-30T02:09:00.002-04:00

This made me laugh.

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It is currently thee worst week of the winter. The most dreaded of all times of the winter. The last week of March, by which all accounts is technically Spring, but you wouldn't know it around these parts. The sky has been a solid sheet of gray for a week. Cold, but not too cold, just enough to make you wear a jacket, and to make you think twice about wearing that scarf you hoped you wouldn't have to wear again this season.

I've also had a cold for about two months now, which is like a somewhat annoying noise in the background, always there, but you just can't tune it out enough. Constant ebbs and flows of phlegm. Coughs abound, and sneezes and then the sore throats... Lately my lungs feel horribly broken, and I keep thinking about how I'm long overdue to attempt the quitting of the smoking of which I am so fond.

It also snowed today, for the first time in a month, and it is just not what I need right now. I long to sleep with the window open again. To spend actual time outdoors. To see and feel the sunshine.

This week has been insane. Starting off on this entirely crazy emotional dive, like, everyone around me had it, and we all felt insane. Bizarre antics at work. A new B-show in the works, with plans for the future looming overhead. Over-abundance of booze.

I also "broke-up" with someone tonight. I had mentioned briefly hanging out with a lady. Well, it became clear to me that things we're not apparently on the same level. I had made my intentions clear from the start, with honesty, that I wasn't looking for something huge and intense, i.e. a girlfriend, and things were agreed upon - keep it cool and casual. Slowly that changed bit by bit, though not so much on my part, sadly, and I called it off, not wanting to make things worse down the road.

Even at thirty the whole break-up process is totally still stressful and awkward. Even if I consider myself a seasoned veteran of the dating world, the world of relationships, man, shit still sucks. I'm still thinking of sticking to my guns on rather getting dumped than being the dumpee.

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I suppose its in the way the language changes. Despite claims of not wanting a boyfriend/girlfriend at all, on either part, and then upping the vocabulary. In some parts, yes, for lack of a better word, or explaining it to friends. Ah, the rough and tumble world of semantics.

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Roommate had commented on certain conversations overheard. Warned me of girlspeak. Girlspeak I may have misconstrued. Or inadvertantly agreed upon things I would not have.

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Anyway, I'm all weird right now and waxing all emotional, and feel somewhat sappy, but relieved. Also totally exhausted from my day at work of taking out old shelves and installing new ones in the walk-in, which meant standing in cold refrigerator for a couple hours, and then outside for an hour building new shelving units. At least I scored some awesome cardboard that I need in order to build my robot suit for my next routine.

Realizing I really need that vacation I promised to myself, though I keep putting it off.

I gots a new lifeform to check in on, godsdammit.

Also missing old friends suddenly, that I haven't spoken to in a while.

Goddamn this winter must end.

Pink and Blue

2009-02-24T00:35:00.003-05:00

I think this was on Post Secret awhile back. I'm actually enjoying my job lately, which is always strange to say. And I also still pretend I'm on board the Enterprise often. Make it so!

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I'm still recovering from my time in Detroit. Trying to regulate my system again, balancing work with being able to hang out in bars again. Also the drinking culminated in quite a bender this weekend, which apparently affected the whole town, as everyone I know got extremely wasted on Saturday. Something in the air I suppose. Mid-winter freakout. Ugh, this shit is so almost done, and I'm so done with it, the snow, the cold.

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I had gotten home from work on Thursday, finally having reached my first full day off in three weeks, and promptly ate food and sat on the porch smoking. Suddenly this wave of good cheer came over me. I felt extremely good despite everything, the fatigue, and sat there so perplexed as to why I felt so damn good.

Half and hour I received the best and most puzzling text message ever. The number was Chicago in area code, though unknown on the caller id. The message read, "It's a boy!" The only person I knew was pregnant in that area was my sister. After checking my old cell phone for a possibility to the identity of the texter, I texted my brother asking if he got the same message. Then I freaked out realizing it was probably my brother-in-law, and that the baby came two weeks early.

I freaked out. Then got smart and called the number, and got the voicemail of my brother-in-law.

My nephew had been born.

I am quite extremely proud to introduce the birth of my first nephew, which makes me a drunkle, the eccentric odd black sheep of the family whose sole purpose is to spoil the little one with the things the parents deny them, to be the "cool" uncle for support, and I'm totally gonna corrupt that kid.

Lukas. Born two weeks early, but in fine, fine condition.

I wish the world he was born into was in better shape, but I guess that's something we all gotta work on.

I am so completely stoked about his birth.

I think I'm planning a Chicago trip for the end of March, to meet this lil' dude in person.

...

I guess that's all I got. Got the most sleep last night, though unrestful sleep with night sweats and freezing, plus odd feverish dreams concerning work and the Legend of Zelda. Bizarre.

Wanted to kill every one today, for no reason.

Cranky.

Down, and Dirty.

2009-02-19T00:02:00.004-05:00

Oh yes. Brilliant.

...

I am so utterly exhausted. I'm not quite sure if I've had a day off in the last three weeks. February just sort of exploded in my face. Which is so, so good for me. To be actually busy with things outside of work. Doing something with my spare time. Especially during the coldest, darkest month of the Michigan winter. Even March is deceptively cold, but still filled with promises to come, of Spring, and warmth, and the desire to live again.

I spent my last four days off, two weekends, in Detroit, performing with the b-company, at a certain art/photography/show/exhibition thing that goes on every year. And its all dedicated to sex. Its chock full of adventure, and agony, stress, drunkenness, debauchery, and shear, pure fun and excitement. I wrote all about it on the mustache blog on the myspace page.

Which means I haven't had a pure, holy day off to myself, on which I accomplish exactly nothing. Damn I love my leisure and lazy time. I'm very selfish about it. And to give up four, two weekends in a row? Wow, I'm hooked on the whole b-company thing.

I took off my clothes in front of about 8000 people. A picture of me in a thong was on the front page of a weekly entertainment magazine's website. My junk, all over the internets.

I'm chuckling to myself right now.

...

I'm amazed I'm still functioning right now. Sleep has not been a commodity. Nor sober time. I'm still managing to drink so much these days. But, not going to lie about it any longer, I drink every night of the week. An amount some would consider a lot. I've seen worse. Trust me.

It also doesn't encourage me, in the fact that I've recently begun hanging out with a lady, despite my attempts at not getting entangled in that sort of thing. So far its very chill, very cool, and I've been enjoying her company immensely. And also losing lots of sleep, on top of the exhaustion from performing.

Well, I do so enjoy taking off my clothing... in all sorts of manners. (Too cheesy to pass up). *Enter snooty laugh now.*

She also drinks as much as I do, which is a rare trait in a woman, one I find very appealing. I am a lush. Plus she's totally hot. And wants to make out with me. Also very appealing.

...

I'm planning on writing an essay, mostly about turning thirty, and the events surrounding it, loss of love, joining the troop, taking my clothes off, etc. To be published in a local zine, which, as much flak as they get, at least someone is doing something around here, trying to put stuff out there. And my writing bug has been acting up greatly lately, which is such a good thing. Despite the fact I haven't updated this blog thing for shit.

Which is why I was insistent on the deadline factor. When does this need to be done by? Because I need deadlines, otherwise I'm dust in the wind.

I also had a major breakthrough in this fantasy novel series I've had ideas about for years, but never did anything about it. I'm so close to actually taking the time to write shit down.

I'm almost a writer again!

...

Note - Please go see "Let the Right One in." Vampire movie, foreign, awesome. And pay attention.

...

Did I mention she watches Battlestar Galactica? And reads comic books and sci-fi. Doesn't get the Star Wars appeal, but at least she's watched them.

...

Well, the whole brain thing is shutting down. I have more to say, but cannot continue. Also, that other social connecting site, has completely taken over my soul. I cannot live without it now. This is scary.

Vaccines

2009-02-02T02:22:00.002-05:00

I love this image sooo much.

...

Sigh. I'm totally busy. This is the most random thing in my life to complain about. Especially now that we've entered into the real game of winter, February.

Last night the B company had a show in our neighboring little sister town, the mighty Ypsi. The show went better than expected, I caught up with some old friends whom had since moved over to that town. Crossover on both sides is sorely missed. The town is just far enough away to make people groan about going back and forth. The struggle never ends.

After the show I got exceedingly drunk, and "full of love," a condition I refer to as "full of love" whenever I get super drunk, kinda touchy-feely in the hug sort of way, and proceed to tell everyone around me how "full of love" I am. I did this entirely most of New Year's Eve. I don't remember much from that night. Only a calm, peaceful resolve.

We had an after party at a certain band's practice space, which is simply amazing. I cannot describe the entire "compound," but it made me think twice about my somewhat loathing of Ypsi. I've just had some bad experiences there, that's all. Getting stuck at a stranger's house after witnessing a totally brutal Lesbian fight. (I am never going to fight a lesbian. Whoa. Harsh.), with a girl that wanted nothing to do with me, despite lesbian's insistance.

I had an immensely good time. Suddenly all my groaing and bitching about going to practice melted away, and it felt like it paid off. We did great. And in the next two weekends, I'll be performing four days. My act. In Detroit. I was hesistant about devoted that much time to stuff, but really, its a great thing. My motivations are shifting. This will keep me going through the winter.

...

Though I worry about my health. Last week I suffered from some sort of neck cramp, that is still not entirely done with me. four days of intense pain. I felt like a robot. Moving all mechanichly. A few unprescribed pills, and a very nice massage loosened things up, but damn, I'm getting old. I gotta start watching the posture.

Oh, and last night I stabbed my hand on a rusty nail, in the bed o' nails one of our performers uses in the show. Some bleeding, and I don't remember the last tetanus shot I got, so goddamn it, I gotta look into that now. I'm not too concerned, as it wasn't deep, and wiki's about diseases are horribly dangerous for the hypochondriac in me. It sort of reassured me. I also drank a lot of alcohol last night. So I think my whole body was fairly sanitized in that department.

I also got digits. Not to mention at the after party, I witnessed a very cool dog, suddenly pissing all over the place, at which I laughed at for a solid five minutes, and am still chuckling about to this very minute.

I also need to buy a new thong, maybe a gold or silver metallic one. I'm going to build a cardboard robot suit that I strip off for my next performance.

My life is so strange. I kinda love it.

Fly, you Fools

2009-01-25T12:35:00.003-05:00

...

I'm feeling rather good these days. Honestly I cannot believe how well I'm taking this winter. Usually by this point I'm a useless heap, completely buried in blankets. Of course, February is just around the corner, which is the true test of winter sanity.

Then again, this winter has differed quite dramatically from the last one. No bone-crushing break-up depression, that looking back on, whoa, I was in a bad place.

Although my capacity for wine has grown slightly larger than usual. My tolerance is kind of in the scary levels. That and the "party store" (that's what we call them in the Michigan), has these fantastic deals on these monster bottles of wine. Quantity, not quality. And I'm not exactly the best at cutting myself off. A little more won't hurt...

But it is how I get through the winter gray and darkness. Not a drinking problem, more of a drinking solution. I'm an optimist at heart. I'm also rather fond of leaving all the lights on in the house. I know it may not be all that "green" of me to waste energy, but I'm not wasting it. I need all the light I can get.

...

I have the troupe as well. We have three shows (+) the next three weekends running. Two weekends will be spent in Detroit, performing four shows at the Detroit D!rty Show, a huge event all about dirty things related to sex. Fetishes, pornography, a guy who poops paint onto a canvas (P@blo P00p-caso!), all sorts of stuff. And then me, doing my routine. A little nervous about it. yes, yes I am.

...

And my heart has gone and done something stupid, like developing a little crush on someone. Its been a while since anyone has shown any sort of promise. So I'm trying to enjoy it as being merely a crush, something fun to day dream about, but sometimes I do take these things a little too seriously. And it seems I never learn my lessons, because, yes, another coworker. Brilliant! I'm a damn fool. Fool!

Anyway, it has future ex-girlfriend written all over it. And silly me, I'm kind of up for it. I think I just might be ready to go big, to get hurt all over again. Yes please, come into my life. Take what you like. Destroy me, please!

Enough about that.

...

I did manage to pick up the guitar and learn some new songs. I haven't touched that one for a while.

Anyway, my Sunday morning is almost over, and I must be heading to work soon. Sigh.

I've Really Been into That

2009-01-19T23:42:00.003-05:00

Boy wins!

...

2009 seems to have kicked off on a somewhat rocky note. Little things keep popping up, minor nuisances that don't do all that much damage, but are really irritating.

Kinda like the leaky pipe/roof in the kitchen problem, which has returned again. Buckets and a garbage can rest underneath the cupboard collecting drips. Yogurt containers all up in the cupboards. A thoroughly soaked dish towel acts as a dam on the counter-top. And, of course, none of the water actually drips into the sink.

Landlord has done nothing, despite repeated calls. Me thinks if I stay in this town another year, I might look into a new place.

...

My roommate threw me a curve ball the other day. Unintended, though it filled me with sudden dread. A thought that had not occurred to me. One day, she will move out. Of course she will. And then what do I do? We've endured a lot, and still get along really well as roommates. She's been one of the best, if not thee, and owe her a lot. Just saying hey, you're awesome.

...

How many people out there use google as their spell checker? I totally do it all the time.

...

Speaking of other internets, I joined up on that other super mega-awesome fun site, the Facebook.

And I'm totally hooked. That shit plugged in like crack in the drug receptors of the neurons of a crackhead. I can't go ten minutes without looking at it. I got it bad. Notification! Notification! I desperately gasp with anticipation as I await that little red flag in the lower right corner. Plus, I can totally trade Star Wars figures with my friends. Fuck yeah S. sent me Yoda the other day. I'm up to 70% of the figures. Shit is so cash.

I'm so over Myspace. Glad I only made a fake profile, well, actually real profile for my moustache. He's grown quite long (over a foot wingspan), and very unruly in his older months. Waxing is a constant chore. I can't eat food if I don't wax the stash, because all the hairs go directly into the food, and then into my mouth. Eating hair feels gross.

...

Oh, and some authoring of certain "missed connections," on the other internets site, my other form of computer crack, craigslist, the innerauble depths of pure, raw humanity at its worst, well, ok, missed connections is a must, and in all my adult life, of a low numbered list of requests, I so have never wanted something more (almost) than someone posting a genuine (ahem) connection about me. Preferably female. But hey, at this point, any one showing an ounce of interest in me
, cool, fine, I'll take it.

So someone mentionend me in a mc (for short), as something like "we were sitting next to that queer mustache guy" at an mc aimed at my friend AR. I believed AR, in fact, wrote this. We had been at the bar one night drunkenly discussing our love for craigslist, and what little faith it gives us in humanity, and mostly about the mcs. (more internet crack! and paranthesis). Although she did not. The other guy we were with wrote it, and so I, didn't find this out until after I posted my reply, aimed at my dear, awesome friend AR, which apparently, in her words, "blew my Facebook fuckin' up."

I would like to believe it was my authorship. I do feel most proud of it. I know her well, and what would be the most obvious clues that it was her. It worked. I gave some hint it was me though, which prompted an email from a coworker, reading simply "j?"

So then my friend in Chicago decides to pen one about me, directly noting the obvious mustache, and of course smoking, outside of work. Tempting, but a twenty year old girl was not the wisest age for a man of my high standards. Although, I am in the beginning of my "dirty old man" years, of which I have looked forward to, secretly, for a very long time. That and the "smoking outside" reference was good, but no one in the public can really see us smoking in the new designated smoking area. Well, no public other than the small Village high school that looks in on our newly desiganted smoking area. Nice. But really, all that kids at the school probably smoke cigarettes already, not too mention probably more weed than I do.

Some coworkers specultated inside job. Luckily AR spilled the beans to me about who wrote it, and thus some rather funny text messeges were exchanged.

People still tell me about it. Like one of my stalkers. Who sent a message on myspace to me, with the link to the mc, and said she wanted to break that girl's legs, and send her an envelope full of anthrax. With a sweet coda of "happy new year."

Yeah, i whine about not getting attention from women, but then realize I want "Quality" attention, i.e. someone I would like to engage in the sex with.

I didn't even realize that was a very angry message. I was high on the weed, of course, and thought, "oh hey, cool, no need for violence, just a joke, etc... and of course replied, "happy new year to you!" Ooops. Girls don't like it when you disrespect their scorn. It makes them get madder. Her roommate cleared it up. In a very long talk. long.

...

I've also managed to keep my sanity this winter, so far. Despite a few trials here and there, I think things will work out. I've only had a couple minor tweekouts, early nights where all I crave is sleep, to get away from the gray. But overall, I'm weathering the weather rather well. And drinking a lot. I mean, A LOT. Red wine, its how I get through it.

Where I am at

2009-01-08T13:05:00.003-05:00

My robot has returned to life. Thanks to the ingenuity of the roommate's bo-hunk, who knows a thing or two about soldering wires. Thanks to you!

...

My life is somewhat busy these days. Its odd for me, with all my cherished laziness, to admit it. And while at times during the middle of the winter season I just really want to collapse in a heap in my awesome new bed (A birthday gift from the parents) and not leave the room for days on end, so far so go. I'm not actually feeling the winter blahs. There are things to occupy my time.

For one, I'm pleased to announce, I have finally factored the Public Library into my routine. I've had a library card for years on end, but have finally made it a point to get there once a week. And thus lovingly the library has kept me in movies, music and even an occasional book. And on my toes with each of those products having separate due dates.

I'm not nearly going out as much, which we call hibernation up here in the cold north. Though somehow the steady stream of old friends and old loves coming to town, nearly weekend after weekend has provided ample opportunity to drink entirely too much, as we are also prone to due in the cold north.

Hibernating, or hermit-ing. Its been pretty nice.

Musically, things have taken a turn for the worse. The band has ceased all operations since the drummer moved out of our old abode. I still miss that house, and frequently day dream about winning the lottery and purchasing said house. I guess its a minor break, though we all seem to have other projects keeping us just busy enough. I miss it though, and have finally picked up my accoustic again, despite breaking the strings and requiring new ones, which i will venture out today for.

Work has been tolerable, to a point. Lately the three of us in the basement, the ones that matter anyway, have been playing a sort of game of "new music," where we all try to bring in new and interesting music, and discuss it at length, and sometimes even find ourselves singing along to it.

The boss is constantly challenging me with new things to cook, and create, (i.e. dumping her work on me). And the O pr@h beast has reared its ugly head again, in the form of reruns, which inspired all hell breaking loose last weekend, and me making a metric shit ton of a certain product that is my responsibility. Thanks again, O great one. Despite the challenges, it is officially the slow season, so I'm kinda glad I have new things thrown my way, i.e. actual work to be done, rather then the clever "how the hell can I make this day last 8 hours" game, which is quite bothersome mid February.

The Troupe and I are doing well. Two shows coming up in the future, both on the road for the first time, in Detroit. One at a pornographic convention of sorts, and one at a punk rock collective. Both should be eye-opening experiences. And I will also be perforMAN-ing again, a little too soon than I expected, in Detroit of all places. Whoa. I foresee more sewing in my future.

And as for the future, well, who knows. There has been a potential offer of sorts, not quite officially on the table, but being formulated and thought about much on both ends. Yet another attempt of my friend down south, who may be looking for a new manager of sorts for a restaurant she runs, to get me to move down there... Though this potential proposition could be a good thing, it has some cons that might complicate the matter. More thinking is needed.

And I won't even go into the love life. Nothing but dust and cobwebs in that department. And that's just fine.

Things are good. Things are good.

Off to an Odd Start

2009-01-05T21:52:00.002-05:00

So. Yes, I haven't been updating at all, despite renewed promises. Not that all two of you are totally worried in the slightest. I will say, happy New Year to all of you. May 2009 be totally 200-Fine. Anyways, after far too much libations, um, well, I kinda disabled my laptop, due to poor design, and occasionally being drunk while using it, and, sort of dropping it, and thanks to the battery cord finally snapping off of the battery.

After a horribly long phone call to the fine customer service people of Best Buy, a new battery will be here in my abode in 5 to 8 buziness days.

Horribly depressing, because suddenly being stricken computer-less after being plugged in for a year, well, shit, I'm kinda freaking out right now, and am totally using the roommate's computer, without permission, so this is going to be short.

(Roommate - I am totally not downloading porn, I swear.)

Funny how dependent they get you on this technology shit. I feel I must go camping soon, to get back in touch with the nature.

And gasp, I'm actually reading a book these nights, because I forsook most of my technology because I had a laptop to do it all for me.

Oh how delicate my reality is.

I miss my goddamn robot!

(Robot is slang for computer)

Ok, beyond that all is well, and in 5 to 8 buziness days I shall have my robot back (hopefully) and I still will totally only update four times a month. Realistically.

Hope you are all well and good and beyond good.

I Showed Mine

2008-12-20T13:22:00.003-05:00

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

2008-12-11T00:04:00.002-05:00

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

2008-12-02T00:01:00.003-05:00

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

2008-11-16T12:30:00.004-05:00

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!

2008-11-06T13:09:00.003-05:00

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!

2008-11-02T19:55:00.003-05:00

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"

2008-10-23T11:18:00.003-04:00

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

2008-10-15T23:41:00.003-04:00

...

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

2008-10-09T01:09:00.002-04:00

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

2008-10-09T00:25:00.002-04:00

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

2008-09-26T20:25:00.002-04:00

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

2008-09-23T01:31:00.002-04:00

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

2008-09-12T20:35:00.002-04:00

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

2008-09-09T18:53:00.004-04:00

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.

2008-09-03T21:16:00.002-04:00

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

2008-09-02T19:03:00.003-04:00

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

2008-08-23T03:12:00.003-04:00

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...

2008-08-20T20:41:00.003-04:00

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

2008-08-05T19:29:00.003-04:00

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

2008-07-30T18:59:00.003-04:00

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

2008-07-24T19:56:00.005-04:00

...

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

2008-07-22T19:02:00.002-04:00

...

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

2008-07-12T13:18:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-03T21:19:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-26T20:31:00.003-04:00

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...

2008-06-24T00:56:00.002-04:00

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.

Super Awesome Summer Fun!

2008-06-21T13:37:00.004-04:00

First things first. Today's random image. One of you used to have a penchant for this kind of thing.

...

Goth Night was a huge success, mainly in the fact that I didn't even go.

Apparently there was some famous, Goth DJ appearing at the club that night, so a vast majority of Goths left their parent's basements to frolic in the night. And to stand in a super huge long line, which was mostly no fun.

So a friend and I decided to bounce, and pick up some booze and to do some porch sitting. Which kinda led to some awkwardness, considering I don't really drink straight liquor all night, and that's what I did, and well I'll be damned, I don't actually know my tolerance for that kind of stuff, and hence the blacked-out portion of the night in which I did foolish things that I don't really want to speak of right now. Nothing too bad, uh, I think... Although the dancing in the street was ridiculously fun.

...

Wednesday night led to more foolishness, though of a different kind. I played my second open-mic night, and it went over really well surprisingly.

Except for the extremely drunk man having a very difficult time. Who was going to be homeless in five weeks, without a job, and declared over and over again he was going "off the grid" to live in a tent.

He asked me to write a song for him, so I did, right there on the spot, and improvised my first tune in front of people. I didn't know I had it in me.

And then it got worse, when he asked to sing a song and have me play back-up. At first I played and sang back-up vocals for him, which got a laugh from the audience, until it struck me that he was really, really having a hard time, and was up there pouring out his drunken heart to people, who were all unresponsive and pissed at him for being that drunk asshole at the bar.

Halfway through the song I stopped singing, and he kept going, and I felt so awful. I wanted to stop, because I knew that people were just ridiculing him, and I was part of it. Granted that he himself was being outrageous and forcing his problems on other people, but still, a cry for help is a cry for help. And I've been there, in the place where he is/was, so I felt for him.

He thanked me, and I told him "I hope shit gets better for you," and I meant it.

...

And last night, crazy barbecue, which was fun, and then some drunken antics hanging out with a girl, who is kind of troubling me, and I'm not sure what I want to do with the situation.

Girls are crazy.

I, for my part, am probably not helping the situation. Reference drunken blacked-out antics from above. And my predisposition to be completely awkward in front of dames I like, so bah, why is this crap so complicated?

Enough whining.

We're hanging out again tonight, and this could be the straw that breaks the camel's back. We shall see.

...

And girls are crazy. Did I mention that? Especially when friend's girlfriends are extremely flirty and possessing massive cleavage...

I did my best to resist. But whoa man, when a friend's girlfriend is blatantly flirting with both a married man and you, uh, not cool.

Had to leave that situation quick.

...

All of this equals Super Awesome Summer Fun!

...

I'm having a good time.

...

Snowflake Must Fall

2008-06-16T18:49:00.004-04:00

My social life is currently under attack by unwanted peoples.

There's a coworker, who I will affectionately refer to as Snowflake, who recently moved closer into town, and decided he's my new best friend.

I mean, I tolerate the guy, and sometimes have decent conversations, and sometimes he helps me out with work and stuff, but overall I can only handle him in small doses, and he's upping the medication.

He's decided to infiltrate the The Bar, and even the other bar I sometimes go to on a somewhat regular basis. And even tonight he will be tagging along for a trip to everybody's favorite Monday night event, Goth night at the local dance place I never go to. I made the mistake of talking about it with another coworker, and suddenly, boom, there he is right behind me, chiming in.

"I'll see you there..."

Doh.

I overheard him say the other day, "I always feel assured in going out because I know that (me) is going to be there."

Doh.

Not to mention I've been cultivating a friendship with a certain lady at work who he has an immense hard-on for. And he's kinda sorta creepy about the girls he likes.

First of all, he hits on every single new girl... I mean, every new girl. Like crazy. And then he pulls the creepiest of creepiest moves, and memorizes their schedules. Like, actively finds the posted schedules and studies them in depth, and probably even grabs digits off of them. I cannot confirm the number getting, but I wouldn't put it past him.

So one night at the The Bar, my new lady friend (and I mean friend, doesn't seem to be heading in that direction) and I are chilling with some beers, and he pops in, sees her, and is glued to her side the entire night, trying to find an in to throw down some lame comment, and just hovers there, like a vulture, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Its sad to watch.

So girl and I have decided to come up with a fail safe plot to destroy Snowflake. It must be done.

...

I'm pleased to announce that L. Marge has come back to work. She spent a few days drowning in booze, and then got into detox.

I was actually glad to see her back on her feet. Despite my love of booze, I do have the fear that one day its going to take over, and could potentially destroy me.

...

Oh yeah, so I'm heading to Goth night tonight, despite knowing full well Snowflake will be there. I figure its a big enough dance club I can escape his vulture-ish ways.

But man oh man, its going to be scary. Not like in the way that Goth people are all dark and evil looking. That shit doesn't get me. What scares me is that they really do buy into that stuff, and that's how they live their lives. And Goth chicks, oh man, they are nuts! I mean, even crazier than normal girl crazy. It could be a really fun night.

...

and for no reason, this image:

Its my new favorite.

June

2008-06-13T16:43:00.003-04:00

I have an irrational, unnatural fear of bees.

As far as I know I'm not allergic. Just a pansy whenever one comes snooping around me. That and I once slaughtered whole hives of bees at summer camp one year. I still fear retribution.

And right now there is a very large bumble bee sitting in my screened in porch, trying very hard to escape by attempting to fly through solid glass. I even have left the door open, hoping she'll fly through that, but alas, she's dedicated to getting through that window. Good luck buddy!

So now I have to smoke outside in the rain, because I simply cannot stand on the porch, due to my fears.

...

The rain is also vexing my evening plans to go dancing at the summer festival in town. Can't say I'm familiar with the bands, but I'm enjoying the act of dancing lately.

...

My friend S. has been putting out monthly mix cd's. I told him of my idea for an all 'track 6' mix, and he offered me the slot of June, which is the sixth month, so I worked on it all week and it is finished.

Though I'm really insecure about making mixes for people. Mainly due to being out of practice.

But the mix is done, and I'm handing them out soon.

I'm most proud of the cover art, which consists of a picture of Six from Battlestar Galactica.

Though I had to photocopy an issue of Playboy at work to get the picture, and despite my planning, a manager walked in on me using the photocopy machine, to photocopy a Playboy, which I claimed I was copying 'an article.' Even though it was totally a picture of boobs.

Oops!

He laughed it off though, threw his hands up and said he wanted no part of it, he saw and knew nothing.

Thanks dude.

...

My Mugstache

2008-06-11T11:57:00.002-04:00

Hello. Please meet my new, awesome mugstache.

Not only is it a sweet representation of a fine fellow with a mustache, there is also a mustache guard, a small strip of whatever material this mug is made out of, that perfectly rests along the top of the mug, helping to keep coffee out of my mustache.

My friends are awesome. And give me gifts.

...

The humidity has climbed into numbers I do not care to repeat. While it may not be Texas hot and humid, it still is up there, and has been sucking the life out of me. Especially working in a small, enclosed kitchen that offers little to no ventilation. Luckily, working in the basement, or the 'prep cave' as I now refer to it as, offers a little more of a comfortable atmosphere, despite not being able to look outside via a window. Its a fair trade.

...

Sadly, I must tip the proverbial forty oz out to a friend, a fallen soldier. L. Marge, my favorite dishwasher, has left work for a little while.

I've been growing kind of fond of my Monday and Tuesday shifts with her. She, in her way, figured out exactly how to push my buttons, which was getting to be annoying. Like on the days when she knew I was hungover, which is often, she'd like to just talk to me, when she knew I wanted to be left alone. Always talking, that one. She even admitted that's what she was doing to me.

But I still loved her attitude for the most part. Going off on the boss about hiring new dishwashers, hounding her in fact. Making fun of our coworkers together, her snide remarks behind people's backs. Just not really caring for the most part, about much of anything work related. I don't blame her. No one wants to wash dishes.

And then endlessly telling me about her dogs.

She once fixed a china-cap (i.e. big strainer), by taking it to the old metal shop she used to be a welder at, back in the day. She fixed it herself, re-welding the bottom piece back together... such a weird gesture, from someone prone to not caring, suddenly taking a relatively cheap piece of equipment to get fixed, even though we have another one.

She fell off the wagon. Not sure about the entire story. But that's her business. I feel sort of guilty for all the stories about crazy bar nights that I've been telling her recently. Anyways, her replacement is actually a friend of a friend, who has keen musical tastes.

I found myself beside myself, realizing I didn't have to be in "silent running" mode all shift, and could actually have a conversation I wanted to be in.

So this one is for you, L. Marge. Come back soon.

We need Hammocks

2008-06-07T20:38:00.002-04:00

My new work schedule is throwing me for a bit of a loop.

Perhaps its the summer time. And/or alcohol related, which relates to my social life. But I've seen the sun rise more times in the past two weeks than I have in years.

It does not help my situation, that I can roll into work five minutes before two in the afternoon.

What really gets me is trying to suddenly make the extra morning time more productive and fruitful, as it slowly counts down towards time for work.

Staying up really late hasn't exactly been productive either. Mainly due to the level of intoxicants in my body by that time. It hasn't stopped me from drunken texting people or messaging people at all hours of the night.

...

She was making a quiche. I had come over early thanks to my ride to her house, who came by to pick me up as he went for supplies to install her new drier. And we sat at her kitchen table, drinking refreshing beers and catching up on gossip in the community, eagerly awaiting the next episode of Battlestar Galactica.

We were discussing my recent attempts at trying to re-enter the mad, crazy world of dating, my list of potential suitors, she said something that really resonated.

"But, oh, you're still broken..."

Not broken hearted, just broken.

That's how I feel lately. Especially when it comes to my emotional state. I have weird mood swings, and usually find myself quite sentimental late at night, and craving attention and affection.

I said, "I don't necessarily want to be in love right now, or a relationship. But I want some random someone to profess they're love for me..."

...

My spies had done they're job.

The first step in avoiding a trap is knowing of its existence.

I laughed about it. My friend texted me a warning of ex-sightings at the bar. I did get grumpy about it, and pondered not going out, but decided to suck it up and go anyway.

I was sitting in the downstairs, debating on whether or not to go upstairs to dance the night away, when a friend texted me that she needed a dance partner. She came down stairs to find me, and we purchased beverages and I snuck upstairs, and we danced to some sweet soul records, despite my reservations about going upstairs.

We hung out for the rest of the evening. Stopping by people's porches, hanging out and talking , and then walking around town, to settle on my the steps of my porch, until the birds began they're singing for the day.

I've been enjoying these nights. Staying up to the wee hours, simply talking with fellow humans.

...

Well, its about that time. Time to rev up the drinking engine, and see what Saturday night has to offer...

Goddamn Banana Peels

2008-06-01T12:57:00.002-04:00

The YMCA saved my life.

Its always an awkward thing, waking up in a relatively stranger's house, especially a stranger with roommates, who are awake and are standing between you and the bathroom.

Not wanting to be "that guy," though I had every right to. Duty calls in the morning. Its very serious business. But I opted out. And was Captain Clench walking down the streets of this town, a beautiful and bright, sunny Sunday afternoon.

And there, like a golden statue blazing in the sun, a beacon of hope, was the YMCA. Sweet relief.

...

She didn't show up for the burlesque show, which was probably for the best. Something was amiss that night anyway. The first two drinks I had sort of threw me off for some reason, and I found myself a little bit tipsy right from the start. Which didn't stop me from drinking more, but only ensured that I would do something stupid by the end of the night.

I felt foolish, standing there. So I sort of propositioned an old friend of mine. "I need a friend," I said. "Just sleep in my bed." And I meant it, though I think she took it the wrong way. I mean, we used to do that sort of thing. Just cuddling. Vows of not engaging in sex with each other. I figured it be ok, and I was feeling, reeling, in some sort of odd, emotional abyss.

So I went home. And got drunk dialed by another friend at four in the morning, which was sort of what I needed. Some sort of attention.

I don't know what's up with my emotional state these days. Something in me is screaming, I need fulfillment.

...

And last night. It was sweet. Staying up until 6:30 in the AM. Drinking steadily, I swear, her and I together together would probably be bad news, and end in AA. Like something from a Mountain Goats song off of Tallahassee.

But there we were, the sun fully risen, all of our bloodshot eyes, smoking cigarette after cigarette, talking about Battlestar Galactica, and playing Mario Kart drunkenly racing off the course.

I knew it wasn't going to end in a romantic happening. And I was ok with that. Though I was surprised, when I gave her the "I gots to go," line, and then she asked me to tuck her in, so sweetly. And then to sleep over. Which was good, because my tired ass didn't feel like huffing it all the way home.

But what a great night. A martini at the Cafe, watching the game, and then to a punk rock show at the punk rock house which always stirs the angry youth in me, watching my friend's hard core band. His birthday, a noise violation which everyone chipped in money so they could play three more songs. Three, one minute songs. Then to a bar for the Photo Booth, which I'm addicted to and will gladly shell out dollar bills for. And then to the The Bar, for shenanigans. And then she sent me the text, inviting me over for a night cap...

Pure magic.

And now I have to go to work. I'm going to zombie my way through this day, for sure.

Thumbing

2008-05-30T16:51:00.004-04:00

Not quite 100% on the health scale, but slowly and surely moving up, despite the fact that I take horrible care of myself.

Still coughing up chunks of lung, and my ears keep clogging from time to time, but no, that will not stop me from my main and present mission, i.e. going to the bar, which I did last night despite not quite feeling it.

You see, pretty much every weekend some old friend or another has been back in town for various reasons, and the last few months have been pretty much one, big, long celebration. I'm entirely ok with this.

...

I got my stimulus check in the mail today.

$

Canadian strip club, here I come. Its going to be a glorious night.

...

Ok, so I'm not actually going to a Canadian strip club, but you get the point.

I am however going to see my friend's burlesque troop perform tonight, and that will be, ah, equally as stimulating.

I invited my alcoholic dream girl to attend with me, which makes me feel a little bit like Dustin Hoffman from the Graduate, taking a possible "date" to watch women undressing on stage... What can I say, I'm a romantic at heart.

And again, I say "date" because I'm not sure if its actually a "date." Still haven't had that definition cleared up for me. Nor am I clear if she's actually interested in me in that way, despite her telling me drunkenly that she likes me, and that she's still in love with her ex with whom she's still involved with sexually.

I know how to pick them.

She did however mention he's out of town this weekend, which I'm not sure if that was just something that came up in conversation, or was a hopeful hint. Probably the former.

I'm not investing too much in this. Still, she can match me drink for drink, so it should be a fun night regardless of if it ends in sexy time or not. If she even goes with me.

Oh, another point in her favor, she mentioned she has to watch the new episode of Battlestar Galactica tonight, so might be late if she does go. Awesome! Lucky for me, my internet savvy ways enabled me to find the episode already online a few days ago, so I'm ahead of the game.

...

I was woken up to an odd text message this morning. I worry about your capacity to care for a dog, but more power to you. Still not sure as to why you felt the need to tell me this.

And other text messages from a friend of mine, recently moved away. I could possibly be organizing a trip to Denver sometime in the near future. Though I have tentative plans for a Chicago visit, and possibly another run to Austin. Though my plan making capabilities are somewhat diminished as of late. Well, pretty much all the time. I'm a horrible planner.

But I do have six hundred bucks to burn, so hell yeah. I could use a vacation.

2-1, We Still Got Time

2008-05-29T00:41:00.002-04:00

Man, blackouts that occur at my work are like the snow-days of summer. Sometimes.

Like today, today was magical.

My schedule just got a major blow, in that I now have to work 2-10 three or so days out of the week. Suddenly I have mornings open again, and I'm typically a night person as it is. I don't do well with mornings.

So today was the first day. I got to work cranky as hell, mostly due to my sickness, which has entered the coughing up oddly green goo stage, which I can literally taste, and it is nasty. I hate this stage.

Then I got really angry about nothing for no reason, and decided to be silent and mad for a while. Then the blackout hit, and I thought, "oh shit, now its going to get really bad."

Last summer we had four or five blackouts, and I happened to be there for all of them. Which can be traumatic. Especially when it comes to keeping coolers and walk-in refrigerators cold, which can require the getting of the dry ice, in large amounts, and distributing the dry ice in every refrigerated unit. Or moving product to a cooling van of some sort.

Ps. Its fun to play the game, "How long can I stand in here without passing out," because dry ice sucks up all the oxygen in the room, especially a small, enclosed walk-in cooler, and people have literally passed out from being in there too long.

I get mad at this blackout, because the office staff seem to get to scoot out as soon as this happens. Its up to us, the workers in the trenches to do the manual labor, as always.

Unless you sneak out. Which I've done. Unashamedly.

But tonight worked in my favor. I got out earlier than I had wanted, and went to go watch the Red Wings game. And drank lots of whiskey and tea, in various forms, because we bar hopped in the hopes that the previous bar we were at somehow was causing our team bad luck, so the next bar would be good luck, which didn't happen, and then ending up at The Cafe, which proved to curse us even more, mainly because we lost. We basically figured tonight was cursed from the start.

So many superstitions among my hockey friends.

I cannot shave my mustache because it would be bad luck, considering as soon as I started growing it, the Wings started to really win.

S. carries around a Chewbacca figurine during the play-offs, and grows some facial hair himself.

D. cannot watch the game with S. at a certain sports bar, or the Wings lose.

Nor can the Wings and the Pistons win games on the same night, if they play on the same night. They must alternate winning and losing. Except for tonight. They both lost.

D. should have watched the game at home, its better luck.

The Tigers will always fuck up and lose. That's just the way it is.

(look at me, talking about sports. Ha.)
...

And my dreams have been really weird and disappointing lately. Especially the one about the ex this morning. Didn't need that.

At least I have two days off in a row this weekend. A godsend.

Oh, and my band will have its first show coming up, even though there's been some serious tension about one of our members, who doesn't consistently show up to practice, yet the one night we were going to bring it up and possibly excommunicate her, she showed up promptly.

Kind of like when you're angry about something, and the moment you get to release it, suddenly the other party apologizes, or gives in with a good excuse, and suddenly you just can't be angry anymore, despite trying.

Like when my boss wholeheartedly apologized to me (which is unheard of) for screwing me over the other day.

I wanted to be mad, I tried, but then the "I'm sorry" came out, and I melted.

I'm too nice sometimes.

Fall Down, Go Boom

2008-05-26T18:46:00.002-04:00

I felt like a terminally ill kid, hospitalized and bedridden on the first day of summer. Outside, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, all of my friends were out playing, and there I was, stuck in bed, struck with the plague.

And really hurting. Not so much due to the illness. More so because I wanted to be outside frolicking away on the almost-summer day.

I missed paint-balling. I just could not muster up the strength to go. I missed the kickball game, one of the cool things about this town in summer, the local businesses all organizing a huge kickball tournament. I missed not one, but two barbecues, and numerous beers with friends later at the bar. I missed a chance to hang out with a girl. I missed everything!

Somebody call the whaaa-bulance. I unashamedly was pouting to my roommate all day long, demanding she get me Chinese food. Which she did. Thank you, by the by. It saved my life.
And then I smoked a lot of herbal remedy, ahem, and I mean a lot, cause I had nothing better to do, and watched probably eight episodes of Battlestar Galactica. And hacked up and snotted out more goo than I care to describe, because its gross, and I wish I knew where all that gunk comes from.

Actually I don't want to know.

And then I had delirious fever dreams about having a son, and I had to protect him from strange mutant creatures that had freeze rays that would literally freeze parts of my body, and it felt real and hurt, and I woke up all crazy-like.

The weirdest thing about the dream was the feeling I had, of hugging my boy, and feeling such vivid emotion about it.

I've considered children, but I'm leaning more towards the "not for me" category. But it made me think about it.

Actually what made me think about it the most, was watching S.'s father Stanley at S. and B.'s wedding. It was the look on his face, the smiles all around, as he said how proud of his son he was... I felt funny for a little time after that, thinking about it. About having kids one day, thinking I could possibly do it. How I want to drink a beer with my kid(s) when they're all grown up and living their own lives, see their weddings, their pitfalls, their lives...

But there's so much I'm afraid of, mainly this world we live in now. How not safe it is, how much scary shit is out there. About how I would probably screw my kid up in many of the ways I feel like my parent's did me. Then again, I think most, if not all, people are screwed up in some ways.

Shudders. Whoa, being sick brings out some weird thoughts.

...

Anyway, I'm tired and full of goo. But I'm still going to go out tonight, because I just can't resist Monday nights, and I don't actually feel all that bad right now.

And I love beer. And I love this song

I sing it to myself as I walk to the The Bar.

And I like to watch people fall down, go boom.

The Funniest Nineteen Seconds of My Life

2008-05-24T15:06:00.003-04:00

It took all morning to do, but I finally rearranged my room, and I am completely stoked about the new set-up.

I'm really shocked to say this, but I did something I never thought I'd be able to do. I packed up my Gamecube and my Playstation, and they now reside in a giant chest. The TV and various electronics I no longer use, thanks to my laptop, have been put in storage. I have also turned the old entertainment center table into a desk of sorts, which I am currently sitting on the floor and typing this at. Perhaps this will inspire me to actually use this desk for purposes other than mindless entertainment.

I mean, its been well over a month since I turned on the video game systems. Or my broken-ass TV. I cannot say I'm using my new found time all that wisely. I do tend to frequent the bar most nights of the week. But there are productive things going on, projects I'm forming in my mind.

Its also a good thing I've rearranged the room, because it had been in the same set-up as it was when I first moved in here.

There were times I found it very difficult to live in this apartment, considering its history. Sleeping in the same room I had slept in before, the set-up eerily similar to its previous occupant's whom I was intimate with, yeah, stupid memories.

But I've come to really like my apartment. Its a good deal. And my roommate is pretty much one of my best friends now. We get along great, and inspire each other to work on things. I edit things for her, she commands me to write songs, and drink, and its a good situation.

I like my room.

...

ok. Can someone please explain to me what a date is? I'm well aware that men and women sometimes have failures to communicate. But can we help each other out here? Let's be direct about things.

That being said, I had a really amazingly fun time. And I think I met my alcoholic dream girl. This girl matched me drink for drink. And pretty much ordered one for me one after the other, before I could even muster the yes I was going to say.

Our bill was a bit high. Especially high because the two bartenders that waited on us, rang us up incorrectly. 120$ worth of Absinthe is a bit much. A minor argument ensued, and we were both forbidden to have a tab there ever again. Which is no big deal since the bar is closing tonight for good. Oops.

But we had six. Each. And part of a seventh. Something tells me I really have a drinking problem, or the Absinthe ain't quite up to the usual amount of potency.

What really inspired me and my alcoholic dream girl, was that when we stumbled out of there, we passed another bar, and she insisted we get a pint of Guiness. So we did, and listened to an amazing performer, who played all the nineties butt rock favorites, like the Goo-Goo Dolls, and Oasis (which I requested Wonderwall. I'll admit I love that song. I don't care what you say). He had a little machine that filled in the rest of the instruments, so it sounded just like the actual song while he sang and played guitar.

We have a few things in common. Namely our abilities to consume massive amounts of alcohol and live, and we were both once engaged.

Unfortunately she also has a ex, of sorts, who she told me is bad news but is still having sex with anyway, which she did after I walked her home, as she informed me in a text message the next day. She also might be in Love with him. Or not, but she told me she also likes me a lot. Not sure if that's the like-like sense, again communication issues. And while this might not be the best girl to go for right now, I do kinda like her. I've hung out with her before, but only in group settings at the pub.

At least she's not moving away. Had me another one of those, which in the end is actually an awesome deal.

...

I don't think I was all that hungover this morning, but really I was more hungover from the four giant slices of pizza I ate in a drunken haze at three in the morning. Pizza hangover. My stomach is still not feeling it.

...

They are changing my work schedule, which is sort of bad news. I've managed to work 10-6 shifts for a long time now, and really like them. But now half my shifts are going to be the 2-10, or the alcoholic shift as I call it. Sleep til one, drink til four. Perfect for my lifestyle. Which is still fun, but man, I got to take a break soon.

...

And tomorrow is paint ball. Ooooh, I'm excited.

...

And the funniest nineteen seconds of my life, in the form of a youtube video, which I won't post because its NSFW and some people might not enjoy seeing two dogs engaged in intercourse, and then the dog on top vomits. But hey, look up "Dog Sex puke" on Youtube, if you feel like you might be into that kind of thing. I laughed for an hour. I am someone who appreciates these kinds of things.

...

Open Mic Night

2008-05-22T17:28:00.003-04:00

A table of ladies in the far back of the room. Another table off to the side, a woman with gigantic, cavernous cleavage and her friend. The third table, my roommate and one of her new stalkers, a man who utterly lacks any kind of confidence or social skills relating to the opposite sex.

This was my audience for the open mic night I performed at last night. Guess which table actually paid attention to my singing.

It actually worked in my favor. I was utterly nervous before I strummed the first chord, chain smoking and peeing a little too often for the amount of beer I consumed. But as I strummed the first chord, it dawned on me that it didn't really matter who these people were, and they weren't really listening to me anyway. I relaxed a bit and played my "set" with ease, and had an amazing amount of fun, performing some originals and and long list of Mountain Goats' covers.

One girl told me I had a lot of nice "ditties." Not sure how to interpret that, but hey, its ok.

Such a strange venue for such an endeavor, the host bar being the local area sports bar I typically stay away from, except for a playoff game or two.

(My interest in sports is very and strictly limited to the playoffs. Basketball and hockey. Baseball I just can't watch.)

My favorite part was the roommate's stalker, who coward in the background, almost too afraid to actually sit and talk with roommate, who at the end of my playing gave me a very inspirational thank you speech. I just kind of laughed at it. I mean, I've played actual shows before, only like three, but it was a nice gesture.

...

Today was a special day at work. By special, I mean things were pretty messed up, which took place in the form of one of the ovens being broken, which happens way more often than it should. Broken since yesterday, one of the main pieces of equipment of my job. Lots of extra love being shared today, in the form of bitching and complaining, something we do best in our basement.

...

Oh, so much drinking going on these days. Putting serious dents in the cash flow. But on the other hand, many successfully fun nights. My social life is in full swing.

Not to mention some ladies are popping out of the woodwork. Which is exciting, but I'm not exactly looking to rush into a relationship at this point. In fact, I'm pretty dead set against it. The term "girlfriend" is not in my vocabulary currently.

But unfortunately the loins are whispering in my ear.

And I have a sorta date tonight. By sorta I'm not really sure if its a date-date, but it is a meeting up with someone to drink Absinthe, which I was shocked to discover is now legal again!

...

Other activities for this weekend include more drinking with friends coming to town, and I'm going paint balling on Sunday for the first time ever.

Finally I get to shoot people for real, sort of!

I'm totally aiming for the head.

Awesome!

2008-05-21T00:47:00.000-04:00

Holy Crap!

Leonard, Lady Defender

2008-05-17T18:13:00.004-04:00

Men can be serious douche bags sometimes.

I had been talking to her most of the night. A coworker of mine I sometimes see at the The Bar. I'll admit, I find her to be very attractive, and she's sweet and cool. She's also a good deal younger than me; not that I find the actual number of someone's age to be all that telling after a certain point. But she also seems young in terms of life experiences, from what I can tell, and also doesn't exactly seem to hold her liquor all that well. Ah, I remember my first bar year fondly. Or don't remember it all that well, and had to be filled in on the sordid details the next day, which usually meant I had to apologize to someone. To be that young again... sorry, I don't think I want to relive my twenties ever again.

It didn't help the douche bag she was there with was feeding her shots all night. And he was a douche bag, and he didn't seem too happy she was talking to me most of the evening. Same with another coworker who was also hanging out with us, who periodically swooped in like a vulture to win the other coveted seat next to her. As well as the four foreign dudes that tried to literally grab her as we left the bar, one of which I exchanged some heated words with, and was ready to punch in the face for his not-so-nice comments. Or the guy we passed on the walk home that told her she was beautiful and sexy, so I pretended to be her boyfriend, holding her hand as we walked on.

Granted, I probably didn't look like a knight in shining armor either, hanging out with her most of the evening, some of the regulars flashing me looks with raised eyebrows and smiles, the "you're gonna get some tonight" look...

And in fact, yes, certain thoughts did come to mind, to be honest and fair. She is attractive. But I do fancy myself an honorable gentleman. And I do have a slight crush on her, but alas, she's a youngin'. I wouldn't take advantage of any lady totally obliterated on the sauce.

I did end up carrying her home, as at one point she stumbled and fell into a bed of flowers, thus turning her ankle. I felt bad. So I lay down next to her, and we sat there for a while, as people passed by and inquired if we needed assistance.

Unfortunately she lives a ways out, and with the turned ankle I offered my place as a good resting area. In which I did selfishly offer her my bed, because I still have this compelling need for company, and human contact. Though I had to fight some urges, we didn't make out. Which I'm glad for. And instead cuddled up and slept, which can sometimes be so much more rewarding than any other kind of action to be had.

But ugh, there was something in the air last night. People, mostly the men folk, were acting like crazed, horny lunatics.

...

We met for coffee, despite many friend's warnings and advice. And though I had been preparing a list of things I wanted to say, somehow the subject of the past did not come up. I'm still angry about a lot of the things that happened, and almost felt let down after we parted. I got all worked up for nothing. But that was probably for the best. Angry words wouldn't really make me feel all that better in the long run.

Instead we just talked. Small talk. I suppose it was all right. A little awkward.

I just wish I didn't have those little emotional relapses I'm prone to. I can be pretty masochistic when it comes to the emotions. I'm a sucker for pain.

So then I drove the demons out with the usual remedy, whiskey and beer and good friends at the The Bar.

One of these days I'll stop going out all the time. Its really hurting my body.

...

I had a productive day yesterday. I finally opened a savings account. And I'm proud of myself. Then I bought some cd's and had a beer at the Cafe while I wrote some lyrics and enjoyed the sunshine.

I'm thinking about rearranging my room tonight or tomorrow. I think I actually want to make some sort of desk situation, like a work space, instead of doing everything in my tiny room on my bed. Especially the eating thing. Yeah, I eat in bed. Gotta snap out of that habit.

Mustache to Mustache

2008-05-14T12:30:00.002-04:00

Ok. Seriously. Friends need to stop coming to town for visits. I mean, my friends, we are all raging alcoholics, and I don't need any further encouragement. I think one of these days my liver is going to give. I love you, but c'mon.

...

Granted its been a blast. Staying up until the wee hours of the morning, the sun starting to rise, and the dreaded bird song that when you hear it, you know you've had a decent night out, and are probably really, really drunk.

Saturday night was probably the pinnacle of the recent festivities. First there were the mustaches. I had three fake mustaches that used to reside on the door frame of my home, left over from mustache parties thrown by the ex, that I used to joke about saying they were like symbols from the Underground Railroad that signaled safe haven for mustache kind. I brought them to the The Bar, and the ladies I was hanging with all wore them, and there we sat in our booth, four mustaches all united.

Then a drive cross town to a party in the hair salon, which was entirely crazy. Pretty much anyone and everyone I know was in attendance, and quite drunk. Including the ex, which was awkward as always. So I did the only thing I could do to protect myself from that influence, and I drank even more.

Later we all came back to my house for yes, more alcohol (drinking whiskey and then wine at five in the morning = not a good idea) and we played songs and sang for each other on the guitar, like we used to do back in the day. It was joyous.

...

My new tattoo is itching like crazy. Most of the scabs have fallen off, though there is still dry, dead skin all about it. But it looks super-sweet, and I'm already planning my next tattoo. I'm thinking a broken hearted robot of some kind, holding a flower. A. has similar plans for a tattoo, and I think we're going to go together to get them done, our broken robots.

And if one remembers my previous analogy, yes, that tattoo is itching, too. Whenever I run into her in public, it always puts me in a mood for a few days. And I have to be careful about it. I'm still feeling the need for intimate human bodily contact, though not as overpowering as it has been.

...

I have to be careful. As she was leaving the party, something came over me, and I asked her to join me for a cup of coffee, you know, to talk about things...

I'm not sure it was the best idea. I'm still angry about a lot of things that happened between us. And there's still a part of me that cares very deeply.

A friend advised me to know what I want to get out of this talk. She mentioned 'closure' but I'm not really sure what that word means. Sometimes I think its just another word for getting the last word in.

I'm feeling confident enough in myself these days. I can handle it.

Tomorrow evening is going to be interesting.

...

Speaking of anger, work is utterly asinine. Mainly my work load, which thanks to the big O-pah, has increased ten fold. I now basically just make large piles of beef, and huge batches of baked beans. The show aired Friday, and we're still selling this particular product like its going out of style. It just figures it has to be my responsibility, well, and my counterparts.

They named me employee of the week because of this. Which is a joke to begin with. People know I don't exactly show school spirit around the work place, so they just love to comment on my employee of the week status. They literally gave me the coveted title, in the vain hopes that I don't ape-shit and start hurting people. Cause there were a couple times I was raising my voice over this. In a joking manner, but swearing and yelling all the same.

...

My parents are coming to town for the monthly bread run/take me out to dinner. Its going to awkward and hilarious. Because as long as I've known him, my father has had a mustache, pretty much the same style that mine is.

And there we will be, at the dinner table across from each other, mustache to mustache.

And I think about this scene in my head, and I start cracking up.

Cinco De Mustache, (And/or) Mayo-nnaise

2008-05-07T00:00:00.003-04:00

I hesitated as I meandered toward the door that leads to the hallway, that leads to the stairs, to the heavy wooden door that leads to the Underground bar. I debated with myself, finding some kind of hidden strength to resist the urge to drink again. Strangely despite the week long binge I've been on, and I mean hard drinking bender banner week of binging, I still had the desire to consume a 40oz. at the local watering hole. Saner heads prevailed, and I smirked to myself as I chose to continue on my way. I need some sober time. The hangovers have been fierce, but well worth it, many a great night at the bar with good, true friends.

Instead I'm drinking tea, and catching up on some writing I've been doing, namely my fake blog on the Myspace page, which is a disturbing hobby of mine now. I wrote an email for the first time in months, and worked on some music. Band practice. And shortly sweet sleep. My body is in shambles.

...

Last nights fun included some arcade action which I really wasn't feeling this year. All the machines are the same, and I've beaten them all in the last three years. The sore arm of the machine gun arm is not worth it. Instead we hung out and drank a lot of booze, talked shit about coworkers and celebrated Cinco De Mayo.

Unfortunately the bar was also open to the public, and the clientele of this bar intimidated me very much. Lots of jock boys and sorority bitties. I've never been more afraid to use a restroom, especially with me and Leonard looking as gnarly as we do. One guy tried to get me to go into the bathroom stall with his friend, in a joking manner, to which I replied, "Give me twenty bucks and I'll do it," and then there was awkward silence, and I peed as fast as I could.

But there was the great bonus of the evening, free drinks and beaded necklaces and maracas that provided so much entertainment. I figured out how to open up the maracas and take out the ball bearings which served as the rattle, which I then threw at various coworkers all around the bar.

You should have seen the confused look on their faces as they were hit by a strange, little something, and then looked around the bar with a most dumbfounded expression. Hilarious. After I ran out of maracas I switched to the beaded necklaces, and then just started throwing beads at anyone within range. And then some of use headed to a porch for some late night porch talking, which is one thing I truly love about this town, sitting and drinkin' on porches.

But hangover was fierce today, and workload was as well. I shredded about sixty pounds of meat today. Goddamn that talk show host. Saturday all hell could possibly break loose. We'll see. I'm half hoping nothing happens, but then my labor will have been in vain. Sometimes my job is totally random and weird, and I like it for that reason, even if its a pain in the ass.

...

I find it most strange that I've really taken a liking to showering, specifically shampooing Leonard. I find it a most remarkable break in my bathing routine, and leaves my nose smelling the delicious scent of my manly shampoo for hours afterwards. Plus Leonard gets really soft to the touch.

Ok, I'm creeping myself out with all this talk. I'll stop.

...

Anyways, despite my broken body today has been really good. Plus the leaves are basically in full coverage. Everything is new again. I might go attempt to play at an open mike night tomorrow night. Its at a crappy bar, but it sounds like mega-fun. I'm really itchin to perform again.

...

Speaking of itchin, my tattoo is starting to shed the scabs, and its almost unbearable. It got me to thinking today, that falling out of love the hard way is like getting tattooed. At first the pain is unbearable. Its messy, and bloody, and it hurts. (if you've ever gotten a tattoo on the elbow, you'll know what I'm saying.) It runs deep. Then suddenly you're through it, the pain stops, but its still there. Then the scabs form, and a little while later the pain becomes an itch, then flakes off slowly, piece by piece. Then one day you wake up, and the pain is gone. Yet the mark still remains, the reminder, engraved forever, sometimes visible, sometimes not. Some days you even forget the mark is there at all, until someone points it out, or you find yourself staring at it for no reason at all. Huh, that's there all right.

Well, that's my stab at analogy tonight.

...

Tomorrow I might introduce my new idea for a food related event I have thought up. Its called Cinco De Mayo, (pronounced May-o as in the delicious treat known as Mayonnaise). We celebrate all food that goes well with sweet, sweet mayo (which is like, everything, cuz everything tastes better with Mayonnaise). It'll be a hit for sure.

I Balled Like a Baby

2008-05-05T19:40:00.002-04:00

I cried. I cried and I cried. I balled like a baby. This coming from someone who hasn't shed more than two tears in a very, very long time. In fact, everyone did. The sound of sniffels throughout the restaurant, hankies dabbing at eyeballs, even S. and B. stuttering through tears as they said their vows. I lost it completely.

S. and B.'s wedding was perhaps the most beautiful wedding I've ever been to. The ceremony was short, and sweet, and completely heartfelt on every level. The presider of the ceremony did and amazing, philosophical job, (and had a most excellent mustache). I teared up immediately as the first song began to play, as did the whole wedding party. I'm still kinda weepy now.

Some other highlights from the wedding:

The obligatory cute, baby, flower girl doing what cute, baby, flower girls do, as in stand completely still in the center of the room, rather than walking with her sister, as everyone gushed.
A most excellent meal, which I told S. that it was most amazing, and that I would be having a most excellent, gourmet turd the next day.
An older woman coming over to me and complimenting me on my suit (which was a huge hit.)
J. and I exchanging phrases like, "I'm picking up what your laying down," "I like the cut of your jib," and "I'm eating what your pooping out." (My personal favorite).
Some how Leonard has earned me the nickname "Free Candy."

...

Oh, and then there's Stanley. S.'s father, who normally I would protect the identity of, but with him, you simply have to say his name. His father is totally amazing. I love that man. I can't formulate the words to describe him, but he was the a huge hit with all of us. And we drank with him and it was sweet. I want to adopt him, or kidnap him and keep him in my basement in a jar.

...

After the wedding we bar hopped, and while everyone else changed out of their clothes, everyone demanded I stay in my suit, which I gladly did. I'm thinking about wearing it every Sunday and just walking around town in it. It makes me feel like I'm Salvidor Dali, or something.

And then I said my goodbyes to S. and B., tearing up again as I bid farewell to Stanley and M., and told them how much their son's existence truly means to me. Their smiles were thanks enough, the looks in their eyes.

Later we ended up at the The Bar, and I was truly drunk beyond all measure. I mean, we started at one in the afternoon, and didn't stop until 2 ish in the Am. J. and I again got into a deep conversation concerning our friendship, and practically made vows of our own to each other. And I cried again. Then I walked him to the house where he is staying, and parted ways.

And walking home, I was hit with this incredible desire. I was overwhelmed with joy, and had this feeling that I needed to have someone hold me all through the night. Not even sexual, I just needed a body to hold on to. I contemplated sending out some drunk texts, which roommate and I now have dubbed "Thumbing," but figured it might be misconstrued.

For example, "Oh man, some crazy girl thumbed me at like four in the morning!"

Hmm, that does sound kinda sexual doesn't it?
...

Ugh. So I guess a certain talk show will be airing the segment on my restaurant on this Friday at four o'clock. I won't mention the name, but it starts with O, and its going to be huge. My boss already asked me to make a mega-shit load of the featured product, which as fate would have it, is something me and one other person are responsible for.

Lucky us. Thanks O for the help. You've made my entire week.

But, as one friend put it, "Hey, you made something that became her turd."

I guess I'm honored.

...

I'm proud to say that I haven't played a video game in three weeks. But that will change tonight, because its the work party that I actually like to attend, because its free arcade games and free beer. Bring it on.

...

And an apology to the Lass: I know I pointed out that video in a mocking fashion, but for reals, I've never heard that song before, and now its totally in my head, and I actually do love it too.

Life is For Living

2008-05-03T19:58:00.003-04:00

They call it the "Get what you get" deal. First you pay a flat rate of fifty dollars. Then you put your hand in a cigar box and without looking pick a piece of paper out of the box, which you uncrumple to reveal the tattoo the artist is going to put on you. As in, you must get whatever random tattoo you happened to pick.

Now, assuming its something entirely disagreeable, one may be allowed to pick again, after coughing up ten more dollars.

The three of us decided it would be an awesome idea to get tattooed in a such a manner, in honor of S.'s wedding day, which is tomorrow. And yes, we were very drunk when we decided this would be a good idea, to go about getting tattooed in this manner.

All day long I wondered if it would really work out this way. After all, my friends and I like to talk big sometimes.

So around five o'clock I got the call, and off we went to the parlor.

...

J. drew first. Chanting, "give me something metal..." as in rock music, he drew a demon's face with a dragon behind it. The three of us cackled with joy, because it was awesome. A. drew next, though the question weighing heavy on his mind, "Should I really do this?" He got a caricature of the famous Amelia Earhart, and again, the laughter, shouts of "Awesome!"

And as for me, of course, I happened to pick the one tattoo I had to decline. It was of a lady in a string bikini with giant knockers. My being able to commit to a woman issues notwithstanding, I had to think about this one long and hard.

On general principle, I should have gotten it. I got what I got, and them's the breaks.

But no. I sat there racking my brain trying to figure out if I really wanted it, knowing full well I shouldn't, when the artist came up with a different offer. He had me look at a poster full of tattoos, and pointed to one in the corner and said, "This one, and only this one, no extra drawing charge..."

I couldn't refuse it.

So now I have a skull, a pirate skull to be exact, wearing a hat and scarf, smoking a pipe, resting on my left bicep, in full view.

It is awesome.

I also asked the artist if he could add a mustache to the skull, but he declined for ascetic reasons. I'm thinking of going to a different place to see if they could add a mustache on later, but I suppose I should let this one heal first.

...

Oh, can someone who lived through this time please explain this to me? I mean, how creepy is this, and what is up with the lead singer's teeth?

Note - the awesome mustache on the jug player.

...

And I bought a new suit. I'm trying to find a way to post pictures, well, I mean I'm really lazy about posting pictures, and one day I will do it, cuz I'm thinking of getting a digital camera.

But the suit is sweet. Off-white, matching pants, and I also bought a ruffly, pirate-like shirt to go underneath.

I'm gonna look smoking hot tomorrow.

Leonard Loves You

2008-05-02T13:50:00.003-04:00

It is done. Or at least partially on its way to completion.

Check it out: myspace

Heh.

More wedding shenanigans. I think I'm getting tattooed today. Though I'm not sure what of.

And its the first thunderstorm of the Spring. All hail.

Smoke and Mirrors in the Bathroom

2008-05-01T17:07:00.002-04:00

It really is tangible, how the weather affects my moods. After a solid week of seventy degree days we had a cold spell rip through here, and for the last week I've been wandering around in a sullen mood. There were threats of snow, that luckily passed without incident. And despite my seemingly unending days after days of hangover, this day passed beautifully.

And instead of complaining about hangovers, which I never really do because it truly is my own fault, I've started to start each day at work by announcing how wonderful today's hangover is.

"Man, I'm having a great hangover today! How's your's going?"

But it is starting to wear on me, my body is in some state of disrepair, and it can't go on like this forever. I'm thinking of taking a week off of booze, probably after Monday. This weekend, though, its unstoppable. Wedding shinnanigans, friends in from out of town, and we are all basically alcoholics.

But its all right. We do what we do.

...

Sitting at the The Bar again, the four of us together, sitting in the booth we once swore that upon our inevitable deaths we would have our bodies bronzed and installed in, drinking together forever, so that anyone could hang out with us, our spirits...

Mugs in hand, me and my friends again, especially my friend J. whose recovery is simply remarkable.

There was a time when I'd thought we had truly lost him, when we almost gave up on him, left him for dead, because the road he was on was a dark one with a very definite end, and he was burning bridges, all of them, because he had to.

I don't know if he saw the tears welling up in my eyes, as we traded stories of bar nights past, our crazy, horrible antics, and then the real discussions, of his descent into the depths of drugs and alcohol, of his first failed engagement. He was never really the same after that one. And his words of advice and wisdom, concerning my failed attempts at marriage.

My man J. Its funny, because I used to tell the ex the same story over and over again when I was drunk, telling her all about my friend J., and how our friendship had fallen apart, about how much he meant to me. It became a running joke. "Did I ever tell you about my friend J.?"

...

Though I'll admit the night got a little out of hand, when we left the bar to go to a friend's house to drink even more, and there I sat in the living room, trying to play a guitar with only four strings, as my friends went off to a different room to do coke, which deeply kind of pissed me off.

I've done it before, only three times, and after the third time I got it all out of my system, literally, as I stayed up all night and then proceeded to throw up pretty much all of the next day.

I mean, do what you are going to do. I've lost more than a few friends that way, truly good people that turned into monsters, as their lives slowly fell apart around them. That was pretty much how J. got into trouble in the first place.

I was a little miffed about it. But fun is fun, and its a celebration. I'm glad I didn't go for it, as the thought crossed my mind for a tenth of a second. So instead I found my friend's girlfriend's bath robe and put it on, sprayed myself with cologne in the bathroom, and then played on two keyboards in a drunken fury.

...

My new joke when I'm at the pub is to ask people not to eat in front of me when I'm smoking. "Could you please not eat in front of me, I'm trying to smoke here..."

...

Oh, and perhaps you've noticed my mustache. Its my profile picture. His name is officially Leonard. Say hello to Leonard. He won't bite. Just don't touch Leonard.

Seriously, I feel like this mustache has given me a huge confidence boost. I can't really explain how or why. But I like it. I do, I do.

No, I Mean, I Really Love My Mustache

2008-04-30T17:31:00.002-04:00

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

2008-04-25T19:07:00.002-04:00

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!

2008-04-23T23:31:00.002-04:00

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

2008-04-20T23:48:00.002-04:00

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

2008-04-17T00:10:00.003-04:00

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

2008-04-09T02:36:00.003-04:00

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.

Tickle Me Fancied

2008-03-28T20:03:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was perhaps the laziest of lazy days I've had in a long time. I think I picked the right day, because the morning rain turned itself into evening blizzard, and didn't stop until late at night, and yet again we find ourselves covered in snow.

And today, a surprise text invite to go for a walk with the object of my affection, as she went to the bank on her break. Sigh. We walked through slush and intense sunshine, though its still undeniably cold, too cold, and then witnessed a slight fender bender between two very large construction trucks, the loudest crash that shook both of us for a few seconds.

...

I've been thinking and rethinking this whole situation through and through. Because that's what I do, I over-analyze everything, most especially matters of the heart.

My roommate grilled me on it last night, asking me why I'm going so strong for this relationship, the one that is doomed, almost suicidal, she said.

Perhaps it is safe. So safe. One day very soon she will be gone, or at least moved on to somewhere else. No unexpected endings, no major let-downs, and none of the "forever" question bs. that tends to find its way into most relationship talks or thoughts.

We have this limited amount of time. How are we going to use it with the best of our abilities? I mean, every relationship is limited in time, just over different lengths; rest of our lives? two years? One month?

I don't know. All I know is, is that it feels so damn good to feel excited by a girl again. Not to be endlessly lamenting the loss of a potential marriage that I wasn't 100% sure should have happened in the first place.

She's wicked hot, we can talk for hours about from nothing at all to the great themes of life, we seem to be in such the same place and position in life, making out is way fun, and she likes me and I like her. I would very much like to enjoy her company for the time we have left.

I'm not concerned with the ending. All relationships end sooner or later. I've dwelt too much on endings.

...

I stepped into the bathroom and noticed nothing. Nothing. No black ants combing the walls, inspecting the strange, black trap where my mouthwash used to reside, no ants on the sink, no ants on the walls, in the bathtub, all over...

For two days the bathroom has been strangely silent.

Perhaps the cheap-ass traps I bought have worked their magic. Maybe my upstairs neighbors have more mouthwash than I do, I'm currently out, and the ants have moved up there.

Or perhaps they're amassing their armies for the final, shock-and-awe invasion I'll wake up to, tomorrow morning.

I am quite getting used to showering with their dead carcasses floating around my feet in the bathtub. Sometimes its fun to splash them with water.

...

And tonight I will be seeing my friend's burlesque troop perform. It shall be quite fun. Once i find some info on their troop, I'll post a link so y'all can check them out. And it is a tasteful show, as tasteful as burlesque can be.

...

And I ran the mustache idea by the girl the other night, and it looks like I just might have to wait until she is gone. Something she said about mustaches being "terrifying and disgustingly gross."

I do agree with these sentiments.

But I'm going to do it anyway. Well, in a month, anyway.

Yet Another Good Reason to Quit Smoking

2008-03-25T19:40:00.003-04:00

I'm all jibbered up here. I've been chaining smoking cigarettes like a fiend in anticipation. Because the girl will shortly be here, and we're going out for dinner. !!! I've got to build up that nicotine supply to make it through the night. Also she's the first girl I've hung out with in a long time that isn't a smoker, so I find myself trying to abstain, which has actually worked pretty well. So maybe in order to quit smoking I just need to have this girl around all the time, which wouldn't be such a bad thing in my book, though I know she's destined to leave. Sigh. Three short weeks...

Anyways, we're hanging out tonight!!!

Goddamn, I say.

I'm like a kid waiting for Christmas.

Peace!

Concerning movement

2008-03-24T19:06:00.002-04:00

I called my parents on Easter Sunday. I'll admit, its been a while since I've talked to them. I'm not exactly the best son in the world concerning keeping in touch with them.

They inquired about my thoughts concerning a job search, or at least a career path to embark upon, though I gave them the standard answer I've given them for years now, "yeah, thinking about stuff...blah blah, etc, etc..." Then I told them I was heavily pondering a move down south, and then, _____, awkward silence... Some questions concerning jobs down there, where I'd stay, and then a change of subject.

Which kind of hurt, to be honest. I mean, they have been supportive of me over the years, bailed me out one time, and helped with moves in the past. I'd like to think I'm a bit more capable as an adult, have a somewhat stronger head on my shoulders. I just didn't get the feeling they were going to stand behind me on this issue.

Not like I need their permission. But a little support is all I'm asking for...

I don't know, it just kind of put me in a sour mood last night, among other things.

...

Because I can't fathom staying in this town much longer. Granted I've said it so many times before, the gotta-get-out speech. I've seen so many people say it, and then do it, and then come back, like a giant swirling vortex, sucking you back in.

"Still, its not a bad place to be stuck in."

There's just too much here. Too many memories, and ghosts haunting all of the sidewalks I've walked down before. Ghosts in the bars, ghosts in the job I've worked at for over four years, the endless faces that come and go.

...

I had a good, long talk with my enabler, C. who lives out in California, calling me from on top of a mountain looking out over valleys and two lakes, who is currently watching his "babies" grow, his fine, fine crop of green goodness.

He always gets me riled up with thoughts of adventure, of the mystical and magical nature of living your life the way you want to live it. He's making plans for a cross-country motorcycle road trip, and part of the plan is visiting me when I move to Austin, and the rest of our friends there...

And so I've been saying it more and more, saying it out loud to people, "I'm planning on moving," in the hopes that it will actually sink into my head, that I will do it.

...

And L. Marge played a very hilarious joke on some coworkers today, involving placing a hard boiled egg inside one of the roasting chickens that my coworkers have to pick the meat off of. We just happened to be training someone new today, and they gasped when they discovered the egg, "Its got an egg in it!" A nice little treat for the new person. A brilliant joke.

819 miles, Austin to Atlanta

2008-03-23T02:33:00.005-04:00

According to the calender, its officially Spring here in these parts, though you wouldn't really know it if you lived in these parts. A weekend blast of 6-8 inches of snow... again... yet again... and already its melting... again...

I would say now that I'm officially done with it all, thrown up my hands, goddamn I declare, I'm done with this winter shit... but I know two weeks from now its gonna come again, the winter reminder, I'm not quite done yet...

...

Where is my mind? This last week my mind has been in overdrive. My mind and my spirit are north and south. I've been going utterly bug fuck, about what, I'm not quite sure.

I'll admit the "worst date ever" left me in a mood for some reason. It seemed at the time, those couple days in the aftermath, that I hadn't learned anything at all concerning the realm of dating, of relationships, of how to deal with other people, that after all this time I still fall into the same susceptible patterns we are all doomed with to fall into over and over again... Some how we make it work, we go on, we go on and on again.

We know the banana peel is there, but we slip on it anyway.

...

(Question = Has anyone, ever, actually slipped on a banana peel? And I would really like to meet the first human ever that ever slipped on a banana peel. Often times I wonder about those first few, the few that created entire cliches, and stereotypes that we hold dear)

...

Enter St. Patty's day. I think this one threw me for an even bigger loop. Anyone who knows me, knows I quite am taken with the drink, and that any holiday dedicated to drinking is lost on me. Amateur night in my book, as the old saying goes.

And I even showed up early to the bar, and luckily found unexpected friends there.

I'll admit I was nervous. I had been trying for a week to find the right time to ask her out. It was actually on the day of the "worst date ever," which before hand, the prospect of a date, had filled me with such joy, and confidence, that I was buzzing around the apartment, walking down the sidewalk with a spring in my step, content and dancing my way through town, that I went and got coffee at work, and she was there, right there, by the coffee station, waiting for something, and there I talked to her, asking her when she'd be coming out with us, the coworkers. Secretly I just wanted her to come out with me, for me.

I asked a coworker of hers to invite her out. It was a long shot, I could have done it myself, and it opened me up to ridicule, but I went for it anyways.

And then she came in.

It had been about thirty minutes. I was on the way to buy another beer, but I stopped to say "hi,"
and I did, and then we didn't stop talking. I didn't smoke, I didn't realize I hadn't bought a beer. We just traded stories, and kept talking. I went without these things, and didn't notice. I was glued on her words.

People the next day gossiped, people knew. Those in on the "set-up," realized right away, they didn't even need to be there for the "set-up." They said we were in a bubble; I only spoke to someone else twice in the course of the evening. Everyone else wanted details, sadly.

I've dated enough coworkers to know the ins and outs of the grinding of the rumor mill. And I don't care. Let them talk. I'll admit, its hard to suppress a huge, shit-eating grin, and trying to maintain the cool.

But I found it extremely hard to do that morning. I was excited, genuinely excited about a girl again. Its a most wondrous feeling. I found faith in women-kind again. I'll admit I had some harsh feelings going on there for a while. And originally I planned for 6-8 months of healing before I got involved with hearts and bodies again... But I spent three months brooding, and life is too short. Time is limited.

Very limited. She moves away in less than a month.

I know how to pick them.

I do. I do, indeed.

...

I mean, it made sense, in my brain. (For once...) I like a girl that's leaving... because its safe, she'll be gone, we have a mad, passionate romance, like road-magic, reap all the benefits, no drama and negative aftermath... The deadline. Time is of the essence. And after last night, wow, I'm thinking I really like her.

I cannot get over it. My bedsheets smell like girl again. The best smell.

We drank wine that tasted like grape-juice. I hate grape-juice. But I love wine, and at least it had alcohol in it. Then we tried to build a snowman, with only a tree branch, a package of ancient tortillas (which were months and months old, but free of mold. Scary. How long does this food last? It seemed unreal to me. What's in our food?), and two ancient clementines, which have hardened and shrunk to a rock-like size. Perfect eyes.

But the snow was not packing snow. And the resultant snow-ball fight was even worse... the balls evaporated in the air, leaving a dusting of snow on the other person. Then back inside for more wine and then I serenaded her with my new songs on the guitar. Sounds cheesy, but yes, it works. He, he.

...

She's encouraging me to move to Austin.

Her and everyone else...

She's in the same boat I am... Moving, deciding to move, stature in life, etc...

As you can see, I'm kinda losing my head over it. And it feels good. I feel utterly human again.

I feel utterly human again. After three and a half long months of complete stress and depression and alienation, I feel human again.

(Listen to the new Mountain Goats album, specifically the song "Autoclave" and you'll know what I mean. Its a pop gem, something I'd never thought I'd say about a Mountain Goats song. And describes exactly what I felt like.)

...

Like I said, its spring here, but you'd hardly know it. But I feel it. So, so soon, and then summer, and then out.

And I really, really, really like a girl again. It feels good.

And she likes me.

Yes!

...

I sent her one of the best text messages I have ever conceived. The kind that fall into the "Should I send this, or not? category." Text messages are funny sometimes.

It read, "You should just assume that I want to hang out with you every night before you go. But I understand you got stuff to take care of. Just sayin'."

...

I didn't think I was really ready for this, but here I go, go ga-ga for a girl again.

...

Ps. In honor of our lovely, Spring, snowy weather, I shaved off the mutton chops. I can see my face again. Those thing were thicker and longer than I've ever grown before, and also very annoying lately. I look ten years younger. Still got it!

And I'm verily seriously considering growing a mustache, a moo-stash, if you will. Its something I once swore I would never do, certain patriarchal reasons (He's had one forever). But I have snapped photos of one on my face when shaving the rare full beard I grow. And then destroyed them immediately. In a great fire.

But I think I'm ready to cross that line, jump that hurdle. Too many people today have bemoaned the loss of the chops.

I mean, they'll grow back, really.

But a mustache? A genuine mustache! Some guys can pull it off. I'm not sure I have the inner strength. Maybe I should wait until the girl moves away, before pulling something like that on her. Although, she did accept me, chops and all...

Where is my mind?

It Ain't You, Babe

2008-03-16T17:31:00.002-04:00

I asked for her number, though I knew full well that I would never actually call her. It seemed like a good idea at the time, the next logical step, though actually it was a useless gesture. I think I asked for the number for the only reason that it was probably good practice for me, for when I actually find someone worth spending time with...

I mean, I got the vibe that there was very little interest on her part, and as for my side of the story, I'll admit the whole night before seemed very awkward.

...

So imagine my surprise when I received a text message later that week, at roughly 1:45 in the AM.

I'm no stranger to late night drunken texts. In my experience they pretty much point to one inevitable conclusion, that one is looking for a booty call of some kind. Though that wasn't the subject matter of the text, which extended to include several more texts that night, it did get me to thinking... thinking that I was going to ask this person to go out, on a date, of some sort, drinks...

In the back of my head I knew I shouldn't have done asked her out, but I figured, why not? I need a diversion, some fun, and perhaps this might lead somewhere... There was an inkling of hope stirring somewhere in my head, and I should have stopped it, a bud to nip.

But really I wasn't thinking that at all.

Why is it whenever someone shows the slightest bit of interest in me, that I suddenly find myself like fifty times more interested in them?

So we decided on drinks for the following day, something I considered a "date," i.e. two strangers agreeing to meet in some public place for the purpose of conversing and possibly arranging some kind of sexual contract (or relationship) for the future, assuming the "date" goes well and leads to another "date."

The next day would prove to be one of thee worst "dates" I've ever been on.

...

We met at the pub for some drinks. She was sitting with two other ladies, one of which looked awfully familiar to me, though I couldn't quite place the face. After the awkward introductions, it became quite apparent who the familiar girl was, especially when she asked, "Don't you know SS?" SS being my ex-fiance, and this girl being one of her close friends. The date girl then turns to me and says she knows her family, and I replied, "that's nice..." My jaw should have dropped just then, but I decided it was better to drink the beer in front of me as fast as possible. So instead my inner-jaw dropped, and I almost started to devise escape plans, which I should have done considering how the rest of the evening was to pan out.

After I paid for our beers (she was/is broke until next month), we decided to drive around and listen to her favorite musician, very reminiscent of the night we met, though this time we were far more sober. Then to her place for some wine, and more music, her favorite musician, and a long conversation concerning the ex, Christianity and her celibate, Jesus-loving lifestyle, and her favorite musician. Not my favorite subjects, but there were good thoughts being passed back and forth, even though it became quite clear that this was not a date at all, just two friends chilling and talking, at least according to her...

I figured it out, and thought, well, ok, at least I'm out and about and in an socially awkward situation, out of my shell and conversing with a member of the opposite sex. Though I did feel a little lead on, I figured I would just play it cool and enjoy this persons company.

...

After the wine was gone, we drove to a house party, where I found myself sitting on a couch watching a drunken ping-pong match, alone, as the girl decided to engage herself in conversation with two separate dudes. It was then I realized what a great flirt this girl was. She got mad skills, and I could see the looks on the guys faces as they fell for it, just like I did. Maybe they wondered who the weird dude was that walked in with her, but usually most guys tend to focus on the girl in front of them, just as they did.

I started to question it all then, in between cans of PBR and the two joints being passed around, what was I still doing there? I could have left at any time. But some sick part of me wanted to see it through to the very end. That and there was free beer in front of me, and I figured that would be enough for now.

We then left the party and headed to the The Bar for another beer, the scene of the crime, our original meeting. There she informed me one of her former make-out partners was there, and decided to talk with him for most of the evening. Which was fine by me, because an old friend happened to be there, in town for a visit, and I got to catch up with her.

As it came time to leave, she mentioned that she would be giving the other dude a ride home, which I figured was cool. She then suggested we go back to her place, the three of us, to hang out and drink more, and for some reason I suggested I pick up the sparse amount of booze that I have chilling on top of the fridge.

We arrived at my place, and I grabbed the booze, and made a pit stop, and walked back out to the car. I opened the door and suddenly became fifteen years old again. There dude was, suddenly in the front seat making out furiously with girl, and again my jaw dropped. I grabbed my bag as they both laughed hysterically, and I said "goodnight" and walked away.

Even though I knew the pretenses of the situation, knew it was "not a date," knew this girl was total trouble, I fell for it anyway, and I kicked myself for that little glimmer of hope I had, before the evening even began.

I considered it the worst date ever, that is, until I spoke with roommate about it, and she gave me some perspective.

Even if it was a date, or wasn't, this girl was just out for fun, being young and drunk and flirting and fucking around. That's what she wanted. Perhaps I had different expectations. Either way, it was a successful date, quite successful. Realizing that it never would have worked out right from the get-go. So much time was not wasted. That it was a good experience, helping me to get my crazy radar fine-tuned, getting experience in knowing what to not look for.

Part of me is still a little miffed. At least I didn't go nuts and break stuff like my old roommate. Instead I drifted off to sleep, listening to a wonderful album.

...

Oh, crap-tacular world of dating. Perhaps I'm not ready to get involved with this stuff again.

At least it makes for a good story.

The Great To-Do!

2008-03-13T23:11:00.002-04:00

I woke up and went about my morning ritual of the blessed day off. Make coffee, smoke cigarettes, practice the songs... As I putzed around the kitchen I noticed it there, the to-do list, written specifically for me, written by my roommate.

...

Jozka's Thursday to-do list:

-Read/edit recipe book
-Take a walk
-Write a song
-Go to the movies
-Stroll through a used bookstore
-Talk to a stranger
-Eat ice cream outside
-Take a nap
-Go out to the bar

...

I thought the idea was brilliant. Knowing when someone has an upcoming day off, free of most chores or responsibilities (my days off are mostly that way), write a to-do list for them, a little adventure for someone else on their day off.

I found especially thoughtful, considering the night before I came home from the bar in a dismal state of mind, having just drank away two hours of my life, sitting alone at the The Bar, writing feverishly in my notebook.

Yes, I am that guy at the bar.

Sometimes...

My emotions were out of order again. She commented I had come home early, and I rambled on and on, nearly on the verge of tears...

...

I accomplished a fair amount of the list. I did some editing on the book during breakfast. The book has been getting a very positive response from the community. My roommate is being interviewed by the Detroit paper sometime this weekend. The sponsor of the book has already pre-ordered six hundred copies.

After breakfast, I perused a used book store, and picked up a copy of Kafka's Metamorphosis, upon someone's suggestion. Then I stopped by the local mart to pick-up some toothpaste and ant traps, and then I stopped by the ice cream parlor and had me an ice cream cone as I walked around town, eventually settling in this little park I have a strange fondness for, and ate my treat.

The weather has been completely stellar today. Sunlight, fifty degrees! No coat weather! I'll admit I've entered the last stage of winter, utter and complete insanity. It is so close to ending, I cannot stand it.

Two friends passed by the park, and came over to say hi to me as I ate my ice cream. They were walking with a cell phone that was playing some sort of jazzy, easy listening tunes, that they were dancing to. So I stood up and joined them, three people dancing wildly in the middle of a park right in the heart of downtown. Many of the people that passed us by gave us odd looks. I say, to hell with you. Its finally somewhat decent outside, and we're gonna dance to celebrate it.

I bid them adieu and made my way home, when an old friend called me to invite me out for a beer. I almost said that according to my list I needed to take a nap, but then remembered the "go to the bar" item, and figured, hey, its on the list. Why not?

Plus, I hardly see my old friends anymore, and I thought it necessary to try to connect in some way again.

She's getting a divorce. And they weren't even married that long. I think they were engaged a little before I was... Sad. The great marriage rush and crush of 07' claims another victim. Why are all my friends ending relationships now? I still cannot determine the cause of this curse.

We then discussed the "slut phase" we seem to be going through, the urge for sex coursing through our veins. She's been a little more successful than I in that matter, and we traded stories. I'll admit, for a brief second I wondered about her motives for asking me out for a beer, half-hoping, half not, but then remembered our old vow we made together, that we would never sleep with each other.

Anyway, we parted after a couple beers and as I ventured home, I was trying to figure out the best way to approach a stranger. Usually they seem to find me, and I mean the really strange strangers. I did manage to get stopped by a somewhat disheveled man, asking for a cigarette. I offered him my pouch of tobacco, which usually foils most bummers of cigarettes, but he then asked me to roll one for him, which I did.

I figured now was the time to talk to a stranger, so I started asking him questions. His name is Lloyd, and he was having a really bad day. I thought he might have been fucked up on drugs or drunk or something, his eyes were red... but then he started crying, tears streaming down his cheeks. A younger me probably would have hugged him. Instead I handed him the cigarette and wished him a better evening. He said I had his brother's name, said he would have a better night, and walked off.

Dear Lloyd, I really hope you are having a better evening.

Then I went home to fulfill that nap part of the list, and fulfill it I did.

...

Ps. I have deposited the ant traps in strategic locations around the bathroom. I'm assuming the ants must have some kind of military intelligence working for them. I mean, if all of a sudden a giant black box showed up outside my front door, with a sign on it that said "food" and an arrow pointing inwards, I'd probably investigate it, but I wouldn't go in there either. I've been watching them dance around it, but then continue on their merry way.

I've also noticed them carting off the dead corpses that I had left stuck to the wall, much like a skull on a stick, that I had wanted to be a warning to them... They eat their dead! Thank god ants aren't like totally huge. We'd be goners.

Take This, Confusatron! Spiller, you Weasel!

2008-03-10T23:40:00.005-04:00

We are currently working on a movie script. By currently, I mean we have just decided tonight that roommate and I are going to make a movie of some sort, a short film possibly, though the subject matter has not officially been set yet, but we are discussing various themes, the most promising of which is about humans that develop super powers, but the powers are not actually super in any kind of way.

In fact, they are super powers, but of the lowest degree possible, in the most useless of manner, such as a super hero by the name of the Procrastinator, someone whose super power is to simply put things off to the nth degree. Imagine sitting around the Halls of Justice, in the Justice League, and some emergency situation pops up, and everyone runs around frantic, and then flies off to deal with such a situation, and there sits the Procrastinator, at the large, round table, mumbling to himself, "I'll be there in just a minute... I gotta do this other thing first..."

Or the Excusinator, someone that has the perfect excuse for any situation.

Or perhaps the Exact-Changinator, someone who continually, always has exact change in whatever situation when that person happens to be buying something.

Or the Conversation Stopper, who always, whenever they speak aloud in a group setting, always ends whatever conversation they happen to be taking part of... (example - "Old men give the best handjobs..." or, "If she had a problem with it, she should have woken up!" Crickets chirping follows, or perhaps the record scratch.)

Or the Filler, someone who can always fill up some kind of container, but with something entirely different than the container would originally contain, with something entirely useless.

...

Note- these ideas are copy righted, because I said so. Anyone stealing these ideas shall be punished by Jesus.

No doubt!

...

You get the idea.

...

In other news, rumors abound around the workplace. There may be a shift in management concerning my particular section of the restaurant.

This does not bode well, and we of the basement are finding ourselves in that quiet whispering stage just before the mutiny really gets riled up.

I'm not too concerned yet, as anything could really happen at this point. Its in our collective nature to worry and then bitch about things that could potentially change the circumstances surrounding our jobs, both positive and negative circumstances...

In some way I hope it gets even worse. Perhaps this could be the catalyst that really makes me up and change my situation in life, that finally propels me to leave my complacency behind, and actually make the changes I need to.

...

And tonight I successfully navigated, yet another, potentially awkward situation concerning a member of the opposite sex.

I know I'm still bruised, abused and confused concerning matters of my heart, and my recent re-emerging sex drive doesn't help that situation. Some days it literally screams through me. Takes over the thought process.

Actually there was no situation concerning a member of the opposite sex tonight. She didn't come out tonight, or at least that I witnessed with my eyes, even though a friend told me she was. A sort of set-up, in my favor. It didn't happen. It was just the thoughts in my head that I conquered.

That strange hope one sometimes gets in their head before venturing to the bar, that tonight, tonight will be the night I magically meet someone of real, sincere, genuine interest...

The thoughts that suggested my most, recent crush would be out and about tonight...

I let the thoughts go before entering the bar. No expectations = no bad results. Just another night out with some friends, and booze, and entertaining discussions concerning some not-so-super heroes.

It was a good night.

Besides, most recent crush is leaving in three weeks from this town for good. In some devilish way that only adds to it. Because at the moment, that equals safe to me. It will end, and I know when it will end = no unexpected let downs. A brief, passionate embrace that may actually restore my faith in female kind. No strings-attached sex for a little while, and romance, yes...

Then we shake hands and say goodbye, good luck, nice knowing you, and it will actually be a positive thing... Hey, we had this time, it was fun, I hope for better things for you.

...

Because, at this moment I can't seem to think that, nor say that to her.

...

In truth, I should probably be more concerned with other things... But goddamn, sex is a powerful force, isn't it?

And not just sex, but the hope for love. And the sex that comes with it...

I crave intimacy. I want to hold someone in my arms again, sleep next to someone again... wake up with bad breath next to someone again, and yes, sex-up someone again.

But really, the barriers are way up. Defenses are on red-alert. I've got some re-learning to do.

And I'm drunk and psycho-babbling again.

Sigh. I'll get this big, old, empty head of mine straight again, one of these days.

You, or Your Memory

2008-03-09T19:23:00.002-04:00

I've been mulling over the concept of memory. Specifically wondering about memory in relation to weight, as if all the memories in our brains, all of the specific moments in time we consider to be a "memory," the filing cabinets in our brains overflowing with bits of information we drudge up from time to time; what do they weigh?

One of my creative writing teachers loved using the term "psychic weight," in order to describe various important moments in stories. Its a term that's always stuck with me.

...

I suppose its because I said goodbye to yet another old and close friend this weekend. Yet another person that made this town as lovable as it is for me, has wandered away to the next stage of her journey through life.

We sort of drifted apart over the last few years, though at one time I would have considered us very close. We were even intimate, a very long time ago, what seems like another lifetime, something we still joked about to this very day.

We also used to spend an absurd amount of time going to various bars around town, including the The Bar, which of all the places we used to frequent, stood the test of time, as being one of the last bars to still be around, that didn't change in some way, didn't close down.

...

I was sitting on a stool, feeling suddenly drunk after the shot I had just taken, watching the people all around the bar, the friends gathered around the table. I looked at all the photographs on the walls of various musical acts that had once graced our bar, the same photographs I've looked at for years. Suddenly I grew very tired, and felt the weight. The weight of all the memories I've had from going to the The Bar night after night. The psychic weight of all the people I've met, girls kissed, friends hugged and beer bottles clinked, crazy drunken antics inside the bar, outside on the railroad tracks, tears shed, goodbye parties thrown (there's been quite a few of these lately), bands I've seen, dancing I've done, or even the times I don't remember because I was so drunk...

I made my goodbyes quickly and without warning, and I left the celebration early. Along the walk home, I looked around at the various houses, thought of a lot of the places in town that I know, that I've been in, restaurants eaten at, all of it, all of it with some kind of memory of the time that this happened, or when I was going through this particularly dark time of life, or when I was really happy and content...

All of those moments. I know these memories are all in my head, but sometimes I wonder if somehow they impact the place where they happen. Leave some sort of particle dusting, an iota of something important happened here, that maybe other people can somehow pick up on. Then I thought about the weight of it all, and how so much happens all the time, at every moment, during every second; its just my perception of it, where I was when that thing happened.

...

I've said goodbye to so many people lately. Good people that I will miss, that in some sort of jealousy and selfishness I do not want to leave, even though I know they must do it for themselves, because they need to grow.

...

I've also been brooding about other things, which again, pertain to memory. But I won't go into that right now. I'm late for my cartoons.

...

Thanks for that extra hour of sunlight. My brain hasn't fully switched over yet, but it made a huge difference. One more small step to the inevitably, coming Spring.

Not so Quiet on the Western Shower Curtain Rod Front

2008-03-06T21:17:00.003-05:00

The ants continue their assault. They apparently have established a small outpost, in the metal plate that holds up one of the ends of the shower curtain rod.

I spotted three of the winged variety hanging out just outside the safety of their outpost. I smashed them with a wad of toilet paper, and dropped it in the toilet.

For some inexplicable reason, the new toilet paper my roommate purchased (mental note, must reimburse), floats on the toilet water. Thus creating a slow, obvious, imminent, tortuous death for the ants that I grab with said toilet paper, and then drop into the bowl to watch their frantic scurrying as their small, floating island eventually sinks, leading to a watery death.

I typically do not delight in killing any sort of creature, whether it be ant or spider, yes, even the bugs. But these ants have violated the terms of our agreement. They are trespassing on my borders. They sit for hours on my bottle of mouthwash. I have just spotted two in my room.

Also they seem to know my face now. After I killed the three winged ones, I noticed two peeking their heads out of their little outpost. As I swooped in with another piece of toilet paper, they quickly ducked back inside. Then, I swear, one quickly poked his head out, as if laughing at me, and then ducked back inside.

So then I sprayed it with Formula 409. It seemed to kill some of the ants that I sprayed as I miraculously did some cleaning in the bathroom.

I don't clean bathrooms. Often.

But it was kinda bad. And if grossness finally appalls me enough for me to resort to cleaning, you gotta know it was kinda bad.

I'm surprised roommate didn't budge first. She is a lady after all.

...

In a very good mood tonight. Worked on some promising lyrics after work. The sun was out today. In fact, I spent a great deal of time outdoors at work, smoking a little too often. There wasn't much work to be done, and I didn't feel guilty one bit. How can I possibly be expected to work when the sun is shining?

Besides, another great snow storm is headed this way this weekend.

I really hope this is my last Michigan winter.

Currently, and Now!

2008-03-06T00:42:00.002-05:00

After I pushed the publish button, I went out to the living room to roll up a cigarette. I heard the music ring out from the cell phone, not even a minute after posting. I had received a text message.

My psychic cry for attention paid off.

I flipped open the phone to reveal a text message from Squid, that simply read, "call TCB."

My first reaction was to panic, and to assume something has gone heinously wrong. Text messages can be deceiving that way. I remember a night out with S., amazingly without his attached-at-the-hip significant other (speaking of deceiving undertones, there is always a tension with me, concerning S. and his SO, mainly because they are that kind of couple, the type that cannot publicly function without the other in their presence. Man-time does not exist, or happens rarely. I'm used to it now, I accept it, the circumstances. That doesn't mean I'm always going to be quiet about it. I'm just sayin').

He happened to receive a text from B. and then stated simply, "I'm in trouble." I asked why, and he said, "the way she phrased her text, I know something is wrong, and I'm to blame. Its not the usual thing she says.."

Four texts later, an unspoken game had been played, each text he sent her was a reply with weighted undertones, trying to ascertain if she had indeed sent texts with weighted undertones as well.

I like how we do that, we try to read more into text messages than we actually could. Somehow this is all easier than actually calling the person to talk to them directly.

I digress.

So I called him immediately, trying to think of soothing phrases I could use depending on what the horrible news could be.

I recognized the blast of background noise right away. Lovejoys. My surrogate bar, the bar of my dreams. And drunken shouting, conversation, the sound of numerous beer glasses tinking.

Turns out my Austin friends were all drunk, and long story short, all proceeded to get on the phone and tell me to move my ass down south as soon as I could, which was so bittersweet. Squid puts a lot of pressure on me to do such a thing, but I understand, because I'm a stubborn fellow. She knows me, and knows I won't do such a thing unless I'm properly prodded.

I definitely need encouragement sometimes.

I was honestly just happy enough that they were thinking about me, drinking about me, missing me.

I got my attention fix...

And then went out to the bar here to sort of celebrate my friends' drunkenness. Luckily, there were some good peoples out at the bar tonight.

And now for another episode of Dexter before I go to sleep.

Things I am Doing, Currently

2008-03-05T19:50:00.002-05:00

I feel as though my head has been in a fog all day. Currently I'm feeling restless, and listless, and can't seem to get myself to do much of anything except surf around the glorious internet and waste the idle time I have on my hands. Two hours have passed, and I realized I was sitting in my room, and the sunlight had faded, and the rest of the house is dark, except for the glow of the lap top screen on my face...

I went to the Local Diner for breakfast, and did some reading, though I read the words, none of it really sank in. It felt like my eyes were just swimming through the words. So I read the paper, feeling very much like someone just reading the paper, like its something I tend to do at a certain point in my day, even though I never read the newspaper.

There should be a word for the look on someone's face as they read the newspaper. Which is some how different than the face one makes as they read something else, like a novel, or a magazine.

...

I'm wishing the phone would ring, though with no one in particular on the other end, just some random person, or perhaps someone I know wanting to invite me out for a drink, for a walk, to do some kind of activity with me.

But I don't feel particularly lonely.

And I'm pretty sure the phone will not ring. Though I find myself picking it up from time to time, checking the display, half-hoping I will see that I have missed such a phone call.

I'm in a strange mood today.

I also feel like I'm craving attention, though I don't know why.

...

I'm drinking hazelnut-flavored coffee, which has long since gone cold, but I'm drinking it anyway. I purchased the coffee after breakfast, after I stopped by the bank to deposit my tax returns. $!

I contemplated going to sit in this little park downtown, one that holds old memories for me, but the snowfall of last night rendered most of the chairs unusable, and besides it is just cold enough to be unpleasant outside.

...

I find my attention span has been somewhat limited as of late. I find it hard to sit through an entire movie, no matter how engrossing it may be. Yet I can watch several hours worth of Tv shows, entire seasons in one day, back to back. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there is always another episode to watch, that the story will continue, it will not wrap itself up after an hour and a half and be over...

Currently I'm watching Dexter, which has completely absorbed me from the get-go. Which is surprising, because there are no spaceships, alien races, or explosions, but I do suppose it depicts the more bizarre aspects of our humanity. What monsters we as humans can be from time to time, each and everyone of us, not just the serial killers, (especially the serial killer with a heart of gold, that Dexter seems to be) (I'm only on episode six, so maybe things change...).

...

And I also had a strange urge last night, one I did not succumb to, a very overwhelming feeling of nostalgia.

I almost looked at the pictures of her. The ones embedded in the machinery and electricity of the hardware of this laptop. Or the ones stashed somewhere in one of the many boxes I never unpacked, in the six months I've lived here.

I can't seem to picture the face anymore, in my mind's eye. It appears all puzzle pieces from different puzzles, slapped together like a Picasso painting... There are other things I'm "forgetting," things I won't mention now.

These little relapses are growing farther and farther apart...

This is a good thing.

...

I'm also wishing I could throw all the windows open in this house, and have it been warm, fresh air circulating through... But that probably won't happen for another month or so.

I want to hear crickets. And whatever those bugs are that make that loud clacking noise during the hot summer nights.

...

Choosen Whiskey Over Jesus...

2008-03-04T22:40:00.003-05:00

I made a girl cry today. Quite unintentional, and rightly astounding to me.

Someone in the band requested an original song that I had written, to use in our project. So I sang in front of them, my newest song, the Fortune Cookie song that I still can't manage to record onto a computer of some sort.

My throat clogged with nervous energy, as if my singing voice had lain dormant, like an atrophied muscle. I choked my way through it, and towards the end felt a little more reassured.
And it sounded totally awesome to have your own composition totally rocked out with a backing band.

After the third run through, my voice truer with each take, I looked over to the saxophone player who had tears running down her cheeks, explaining she had just finally caught all of the lyrics, how sad...

I think that's the best compliment I could have ever received. And I have been feeling futile about my attempts at song writing as of late.

...

Doesn't help that winter is currently working its magic, again, outside of my home, in the form of six to eight inches of snow falling freshly.

After a fifty plus degree day. When snow was melting away. The sun was shining...

Winter freak out! I'm going crazy!

...

The ants continue to send their scouts and scavengers through the hole in the shower.

I've dug into my foxhole, I'm taking cover, and have given up for the moment. Assuming its not terribly nasty tomorrow, I may go invest in some caulk.

I need to win this battle.

...

And tonight I shall bask in the Maker's Mark and all its glory. Tea and whiskey together are a beautiful combination, one that I have discovered is quite dangerous to have around the house. The whiskey part, that is.

The Moments Were Sweet, but All Wrong

2008-03-02T22:12:00.002-05:00

Perhaps it is the Leap Year madness, an extra day that somehow throws the cosmos off balance, that interrupts our schedules, that has been leaking something unknown into the air...

Or perhaps its the stir-crazy feeling people seem to be going through, so looking forward to the end of this winter, the Spring hope welling up in our throats, this weather will break soon.

Today, sunshine and temperatures in the high forties. I left my scarf at home as I wandered about this evening.

...

Laser tag could quite possibly be my new obsession. I haven't played since the early nineties. It was a friend's birthday, and he opted for laser tag, ten of use huddled together in the black-lit room, glowing vests of blue and red, our teams eager with anticipation, somewhat drunk and stoned, ready to do battle in the dimly lit maze, our lasers blasting out furiously as we ran through the tunnels.

I'll admit I had terrible gas. Horrific gas, the likes of which I hath not dealt in a very long time. I didn't consume anything our of the ordinary. I do not know what brought it on, but it smelled like something rather large and heinous died in my ass. And it probably saved my life that night.

After the Laser tag we retired to a bar I don't typically frequent, and after cake and numerous drinks we ended up at the The Bar for last call. All roads lead to the The Bar these days. My friends went off to play darts, and suddenly I found myself alone at a table, watching the game go on.

It was then I was picked up by a lady at the bar. So unexpected.

I'll admit I've found myself at a loss in front of lady-folks again. Partly I feel like I've lost the language of it all, the language of putting myself out there, feeble attempts at flirting... Feeling crushes rise up within me again, my sex-drive slowly making itself known again.

Though my heart remains the voice of reason, still a little rough around the edges, the bruise healing in its own way.

I won't go into the sordid details, though I will say I found myself quite aware of the situation, and in some ways I let things go further than they should have, but I certainly did not let it get away from me. My crazy radar blipping like a submarine invasion on the sonar... I let things go on as they did, only because it felt like an adventure to me, and I wanted to see where it would lead. It was also the first time I have been intimate with a woman since the break up, and part of me felt selfish. I needed a win.

But the situation felt all wrong. I'll admit I felt a certain voyeuristic joy upon seeing a new girl's abode. The decorations in her room, the meaningful trinkets, the cd and book collection... But then there was the actions, laying in a strangers bed, the different fragrance of a woman, her kissing style. Something about it screamed "Danger! Danger! Will Robinson," and I left her house at four in the morning, much to her dismay. (She called me a dirty hippy! Me of all people! That was the last straw.)

But I did the right thing, before things got any more awkward and worse, much like I am imagining the morning after would have been. Especially with the gas I was having, cuz that morning, oh god, I wouldn't wish that on any of my numerous enemies. Plus, I realized that I've been in that place (not specifically her bed) before, and I think I much would have preferred those actions to mean something, beyond a dirty screw.

...

Then there was last night. Again I say, something in the air these days. People are going nuts. Same bar, different girl... Not the most meaningful of conversations, but something reacted in me, and I found myself wanting again. Wanting to try it out, to be bold, to see where this thing would go.

I tried my hand at flirting, putting myself out there, trying to be more assertive, though not aggressive. I most definitely am not aggressive in these situations, but sometimes the signals get crossed.

And sometimes you find a hand placed somewhere near your crotch unexpectedly, and a ripe, mischievous smile telling you that its all right...

Though I knew from the start this was probably not going to end in the best way either. I'll admit, she was most certainly attractive, and had breasts that reminded me of the first bare boobs I ever lay eyes on in the pages of my Dad's Playboys from the seventies. There's just something about ta-ta's from the seventies, their shape and form that get my blood all a boilin'.

Ahem.

My self-esteem certainly received a nice boost, that of all the dudes at the table, and in the bar, she chose me to release her affection on, but I could taste the fleetingness of it all.

The night did not go in the direction I'd rather it did, but probably it is for the best. She fell asleep on her couch, in the blanket intended for me, as I lay on the other end of the couch, her feet on my chest, and in my face. I slept unsoundly, my feet resting on the floor, which did some damage to my back. I'm still kind of laughing about it now.

Only minor awkwardness in the morning, though breakfast was intended, did not happen, which I only half wanted to go to anyway.

...

And right now I feel somewhat "stung." I coined this term early on in my sexual history, the feeling of enjoying the afterglow of some sort of new sexual situation with someone, that slowly fades after a good day or so, and is replaced with some sort of negative feeling, the "why didn't it mean more?" Or when you ask yourself the same question, but the emotions behind it take a 180 degree turn, like, "I can't believe that happened!!! Woo hoo!" and then a full day later thinking, "damn, I can't believe that happened... (negative undertones)" I don't know how else to describe it.

...

Still, I suppose its good practice for when I actually meet someone I would like to spend time with.

And, I still got it! After all these years...

Ruh' Ro

2008-02-29T04:33:00.003-05:00

Ants = probable thousands
Us= 32

The battle between us and the ants in our bathroom continues. Last night they released a massive barrage of vicious attacks in the early, early morning. But our defenses held, despite the onslaught.

I discovered that the plastic panel, shower stall lining in our shower, has a gaping hole at the top corner of the plastic. Ants seem to just be crawling right on in.

So I shove a plastic bag in the hole, hoping to block all access... But for some reason the plastic bag blocks most of the hole, but also pushes the hole larger, especially at the very ends of the hole, which get that much wider, enough to allow the teeny-tiny ants through.

Ants still get in.

Even ones with wings...

So I've been killing ants every time I go into the bathroom. I sometimes think about leaving the dead ant-bodies of my victims somewhere near the plastic-bag stuffed hole in my shower, as a warning sign to other ants not to come this way, but then I remembered playing the video game Sim-Ant, (which is a sweet old school game, about running an ant colony. Awesome!) that ants reclaim their fallen comrades, and bring them back to the hill. I could be mistaken, but maybe they eat them, or use them for something... anyway, point is, it wasn't going to work.

And it didn't. So I shoved another plastic bag down there, trying to get into the edges as best I could.

And that didn't work. The little buggers still squeezed through.

So I shoved a q-tip into one side. I don't know why I chose that instrument, but it seemed to work... For now.

So,

Ants = resilient creatures, super-strong for their weight, mandibles, likes my mouthwash...

Me = Two plastic bags, and a Q-tip, to stop (or stall) an advancing army.

...

Tonight was a most awesome, unexpected, totally bizarro night.

Highlights: Laser Tag! Horrible Gas! Making out with the bug lady! Lots of Alcohol! Awesome Eighties jams! P o t!

Too tired to write about it. More tomorrow.

And its Only Tuesday...

2008-02-26T22:39:00.003-05:00

It is officially the worst part of winter, the "Do or Die" stretch of the season. I wanted to die when I woke up this morning. 5-8 more inches of goddamn snow. But I chose do, and waded through the fresh powder on my way to work. All this after three glorious sunny days, chilly, but you could see the frickin' sun, and actual deep blue sky. Then the snow melts a little, and the next day there is so much more of it. This snow will probably melt in three more miserable days, and then snow again. Repeat. Enough to drive you crazy all through March...

Sorry to be such a weather man. I wish I had more interesting topics to discuss.

...

No signs of illness still... fingers are crossed. Thank you for the suggestions for if it really hits me.

...

L. Marge, out of nowhere today, said to me that we should install those cartoon trick stairs, that at a flip of the switch suddenly go flat, making a slide for the victim to fall down. Those fifteen steps I go up and down everyday, like, a lot (tomorrow I'm going to count how many times I go up and down the stairs all day.) that lead to my basement work place.

I cracked up, and totally agreed with her.

I could do so much damage to so many people with that. Awesome!

I am strangely growing fond of L. Marge. She's one tough lady, has seen a lot of shit in her time, and doesn't take none of it. She's quite vocal about her feelings towards the "goddamn, shit, fucking ______" or the "well, that's crazy..." She also purposely leaves the hardest to clean dishes for the PM dish shift. She also tells me what she is cooking for dinner... for the dogs. She also cracked a joke about herself, referencing her "sunny disposition." She also talks out of the side of her mouth. And can get somewhat vulgar, sometimes more so than me and my coworkers. And we can get pretty bad...

...

Oh, and add to the growing list of house ordeals roommate and I have had to go through, that there are now ants everywhere in our bathroom. Don't they hibernate or something? For some reason they seem to enjoy my bottle of mouthwash. Great.

On Time, On Age, On the Passage of Time and Ages

2008-02-26T00:14:00.003-05:00

So either my usual regiment of sickness cure-alls worked their magic (aka whiskey), or else perhaps I suffered from some other sort of ailment, but as of today I feel quite all right. A little slowness, a little grogginess, but otherwise I pronounce myself with a clean bill of health.

Whatever the case may be, I decided I felt well enough to venture out for my usual Monday night excursion, though tonight I chose a different path.

...

Monday nights happen to be my favorite night to go out. Though I'm eternally doomed to work Tuesdays for the rest of eternity, or at least until I find some other form of gainful employment, I still cannot pass up the Monday night.

The pub I used to frequent on these nights has had a drastic change in their drink policies. What used to be a deal, has subsequently become something of a money wringer. While I tend to like supporting local businesses, especially local brewing businesses, I find their recent move towards raising their happy hour prices, and changing their rules on certain "strong" beer pricing and delivery in smaller glasses for the same price, not to be within my budget and tastes. Not to mention their service kind of tends towards the laxer side, which considering the amount of time I've spent in the food service industry typically does not bother me. Its more that the staff seems more intent on the horrific music playing on their I-pods, and fixing their dreadlocks than the beer in my hand...

I've worked some shitty "not known for the service" type of places, and I've also worked for some "insane, over-the-top, quality" service establishments. Either way, I'm just looking to get my cheap-on. As long as I get what I want, when I want, in a somewhat timely manner, I'm ok with it. And I'll definitely tip well. I am one of you.

Anyway, I decided to forgo the pub this evening, and make my way to the The Bar, for some free pool, which is something I used to do on Monday nights ages ago, back when I thought my abilities at pool would bring me something more in this life, much like my capacity to drink...

Oh how sadly we were deceived.

The "coolness" factor of your early twenties matters not towards the latter part of them. Once you are passed your prime, it only seems sad. You become exactly the thing you thought you wouldn't.

Just like when you hung out at the playground, and the big kids would ridicule you, tempt you with cigarettes, make fun of you... and one day you wake up to find that you are suddenly the big kids at the playground, harassing the younger kids, the circle nature of life...

I still remember that day, when Johnguy and I discovered we were the big kids at the park. Or at that Joan of Arc show, when we were ridiculing the teenagers at the show with their backpacks and patches, punk-rock attitude, and bad hair cuts... when we realized we were the old dudes at the show. Like visions of our younger selves, at the Fireside bowl so long ago.

...

I sometimes find myself saying far too often, "back in the day..."

Like tonight, when I found myself as that lone guy at the bar, racking the balls, and half playing a game of pool by myself, no one else around to play against.

Just practicing my game. Shooting around until someone shows up.

Back in the day...

There were a host of Monday night regulars, endless rotations between tables, people yelling out names of the next victims, all of us there for the thrill of the game.

There were the assholes that brought their own pool cues, and acted like hot shit on the table. There were the agro-dudes, that took the game way too seriously. There were the ladies that took their game way too seriously, even though they weren't that good, but somehow they garnered respect, simply because they were ladies, holding their own against the agro-men.

Tonight it was me, and one other guy, someone quite good at their game, and me, relearning the sport that kept me going through a very cold year in Chicago.

...

Time has passed. I found myself with significant other. We opted for the other Monday night festivities that took over the The Bar, and Monday nights with it, Karaoke.

Over two years... Now that I'm at the point in my life that I am at, I find that all three of those things have seemed to pass. Karaoke is gone, hopefully never to be reborn there. I do not mean Karaoke in general, just what it used to mean to me, what it meant to me at the The Bar.

Significant other has gone that way as well.

And it seems all of those people that I used to duel with on the pool table, well, they are seemingly all gone as well. Moved on. Only I remain to document their passing. Or perhaps their absence.

At least the dollar PBR special is still in tact.

My little slice of heaven.

...

And I finally knew this day would come. The website for my source of free movies and TV shows has finally been dealt a nearly fatal blow.

My other source for cheapness, and entertainment, has almost gone under.

I knew this day would come. I just was not expecting it so soon. *sobs*

Even though they didn't fully quite have all of the episodes for Dr. Who and Battlestar Galactica, and Heroes for that matter, I still managed to squeeze off quite a bit of time wasting. I'm forever in your debt.

Sick Boy

2008-02-24T20:46:00.003-05:00

I was preparing myself a spot of tea, sometime in the evening. Suddenly I became lightheaded, so I sat down in the rocking chair, hoping the feeling would pass. Then the cold began, my body shivering uncontrollably, my teeth chattering, despite it actually not being so cold for once.

I put on a sweater and lay in bed under the blankets, watching a movie on my laptop, the laptop on my chest providing slight warmth, though the cold simply would not subside.

After the movie ended, I attempted to sleep. I could feel my chest exploding with heat, though the core of my body felt icy cold. Then I began to sweat uncontrollably. After ten minutes I had to switch positions on my bed, because my blankets became waterlogged, and then the cold set in. I rolled around like this for much of the night, in between switching sides on the bed I had some amazing fever dreams, dreams of vivid mountain landscapes, an airplane that had no walls and you could look over the edge and see the world below, going skiing down an incredible mountain, though the snow was melting...

I've been pretty lucky this season, dodging most of the colds and such going around. I guess I was due to get sick. But ugh, not like this. I'm just amazed at how quickly it hit, suddenly out of no where, and bam, I'm down.

I had one brief excursion today, otherwise I've been in bed all day long.

I needed to gather my sick supplies, which consist of Maker's Mark for the hot toddies, and Chinese food, namely the Hot and Sour soup, cause that stuff does wonders. Otherwise its bed rest for me, and lots and lots of movies, and or video games. One of the few times I don't feel as guilty about playing video games, is when I'm sick. My mental capacity can't exactly handle much more stimulation.

I just pray I can get a decent night's sleep. I felt like I was practically swimming through my sheets. Ugh!

...

I heard birds chirping this morning. I had almost forgot what they sounded like. This gave me hope, hope that spring will be here soon. The birds must know something that I do not. Even though it probably won't really get all that warm until May, some days that is all the push I need, the telltale signs that winter's cold grip is releasing.

Every day we get about six more seconds of day light. That is a good thing.

Dark Side of the Moon

2008-02-20T19:52:00.001-05:00

Also, please check out the lunar eclipse tonight, in an hour or so. Its gonna be sweet!

Hot Dogs Give Me Strength to Fight My Demons

2008-02-20T17:14:00.002-05:00

As I unloaded the milk crate of frozen lamb into the cambro of water, as I took out the last package of meat, I discovered two hot dogs, forlornly freezer-burned and sadly out of place. How they got there, I do not know. But I did know exactly what to do with them.

It wasn't enough to simply go around the kitchen, tapping unsuspecting co-workers on the shoulder with a frozen hot dog, a rather large bulbous hot dog, so when they turn their heads they come face to face with said hot dog. My childish sense of humor, which knows no bounds, demanded something more.

Thanks in part to my co-workers' similar childish tastes, we decided to plant hot dogs in various places around our establishment. The giant meat pot, the dishwasher's sinks, the sausage mixture I was making that day, inside of the roasting chickens, the dishwasher's gloves, inside the robot coupe... we went a little overboard. But we also spent the entire day cracking up hysterically every time someone made a new hot dog "discovery." Specifically L. Marge, who bore the brunt of the hot dog "discoveries," swearing worse than a sailor each time, vowing to get us back, or to stick those hot dogs in places on our bodies where they should not go.

I can honestly say I had one of the most enjoyable work days I've had in a long time, all thanks to the hot dog.

...

We are, of course, they same group of childish late-twenty something men that for a good month or so would draw little tiny "cock and balls" in various places around the establishment.

exceedingly immature: very.
F-ing hilarious: completely.

Especially on the day of the health inspection, when one of the managers came over to me while escorting the inspector around the basement, and whispering, asked me to relabel a certain item that was merely labeled with a rather large representation of the male anatomy.

...

Today has been a productive day off. I managed to visit the Secretary of State's office to renew my license. Though I had a little bit of a dilemma, in whether or not to shave off the mutton chops (which I have neglected to trim, so they appear quite fierce indeed), or to keep them for my new photo.

You see, my license has had the same picture for the last ten years. A slightly disturbing representation of myself, a younger me, a somewhat misguided me, that appears to be wearing a hemp necklace that some hippy made me years ago. Also this photo has the first incarnation of my trademarked mutton chops, which sort of has slightly vexed me over the years.

Typically I get two responses when I show my ID. The first being, "Whoa dude! Sweet chops!" The second being, "is this really you?" Assuming I had to fake my ID, I do not think this type of facial hair would be the most convincing manner in which to do it.

So I did it anyway. It is too early to shave off my chops. Besides, they give me power. The tradition must live on. I mean, license photos are supposed to look like shit, so why not have a little fun with it, have some choice in the matter?

...

Otherwise, dancing this weekend was a complete success. I had oodles of fun and actually danced with no shame in my game. I've made a couple new dude friends, who according to other friends consider me a cool dude as well.

And I'm pleased to say that I have my first editing/writing job lined up... well, ok, its not technically an actual job. Its more of an assignment, and its for a friend who is putting together a cook book, an amazing cook book that I will go into more detail about a little later. She's also going to give me credit for reading it over. Though I have to admit I gotta brush the dust off my grammar and editing skills, because I haven't used them in quite some time. (Any one who reads this blog can probably attest to that).

Chocolate, Dudes, Beer

2008-02-16T18:03:00.002-05:00

For some reason chocolate makes me sneeze. Usually after the first bite, I feel it well up in my sinuses, and then achoo. Not that its particularly troublesome. Only recently have I discovered a new found taste for things chocolate. Though I still tend to avoid most candies and sweets.

I did rather enjoy the chocolate people were handing out on Valentine's day. Loads of Hershey's Kisses, and the little Dove dark chocolate pieces, that had ridiculous sayings on the insides of the foil wrappers.

The first one I opened read, "Go to your special place," which made me chuckle to myself, and I thought, "heh, that's where I keep the bodies." So I hung it on the clip that holds my recipes.

...

I have decided I need a new bro-mance. Similar to a man-crush, just a dude to hang out with and get drunk with. Bitch about girls with, tell drunken stories to, hang out and do stuff with. Much like a friend, I suppose. A dude that if we were both gay would probably most likely get with each other...

My last bro-mance ended rather badly; He went slightly insane, started to drink a little too much more than our normal level of intoxication, and literally would pass out at the bar, head down on the table, or would stand there wobbling like a bobble-head, looking as if he were about to drop at any second. He also started to alienate all of us, throwing popcorn around, punching people in the face, acting obnoxious.

We took turns babysitting him, and finally it reached a breaking point, where we all stopped hanging out with him. He moved away shortly after that, with his girlfriend, who none of us really cared for anyway...

I still miss him in some ways.

...

I went to the The Bar on Valentine's day. Granted its pretty much the most unromantic place I could think of, which I was definitely going for. I was also wondering if there would be acts of desperation, people flocking there because they were alone and it seemed like a good place to meet and hook-up with someone...

Surprisingly there was an odd assortment of couples there.

I ended up chatting with a fellow that works at the The Bar, who is actually a really rad dude, and I think I may have found my first candidate for a bro-mance. I mean, he bought me shots. A lot of them, and I quite literally stumbled out of there, cuz those shots snuck up on me rather quietly, and suddenly it was time to go.

...

Tonight I think I shall attempt the going dancing thing again, though the likelihood of the ex-factor is fairly high, again. This time, however, I shall avoid certain substances, and try not to drink as much. Especially before going to the bar. Don't want to repeat that last time. No can do.

I'm feeling tons and tons better this week. My upset stomach seems to have lessened considerably, and I'm feeling more confident, and am actually smiling now and again. I mean, its the dead of winter, and I'm feeling like a human being again.

My Grandpa was a Professional Bowler

2008-02-13T23:26:00.002-05:00

The roommate and I just got back from an excursion to the bowling alley. She was supposed to be meeting some people there, from one of her classes, and invited me along because she needed some sort of back-up. She also mentioned the guy to girl ratio of the class to be about 1 to 15, men to ladies, and that it'd probably be a good experience for me.

I laughed.

As we stepped into the bowling alley, immediately my senses were inundated with the type of stimulus that only bowling alleys can provide. Open spaces, yet there is definite territory, unseen, yet established. Then the noise, the crack of balls on pins, the bad radio music, the talking. And then smoke, and the smell of beer. There's something so strange to me about bowling alleys.

There were many people there, mostly college aged, perhaps some a bit younger. Yet all seemed to possess the air of people who belonged in this bowling alley, found comfort in bowling alleys, their social scenes, where they go to hang out. This is what we do on Wednesday night... I never really found this form of social entertainment very suitable for me. Though I certainly haven't minded the few bowling outings I've gone on. Most happened to coincide with either work parties, or lots of alcohol, and I figure this is a sport I can endorse, one that sort of begets drinking, and smoking, and its a sport.

Still, I was a stranger in a strange land, and I knew this fact. (These people can smell fear!) After a brief walk through of the place, Roommate could not find the group we were to meet up with, so we headed inside the bar to grab a drink, our only defense against the fact we were not in our element.

We sat there with our beers and discussed such things as money, and winning the lottery, and how that would and wouldn't change us if we were lucky to have won. What we would do if suddenly we found ourselves freed from the world of crappy day jobs, the confines of being poor.

She would buy real estate, and probably start a business of some sort, and devote lots of time to art, and photography. I would probably buy a large house, just so friends could come and either live with me, or stop in from time to time. Some place warm year round. Somewhat remote, but near enough to a city. Beyond that, I don't know what I would do. Probably not much more than I do now. Except I'd have lots of toys, expensive crap, a nice tv, but I probably wouldn't enjoy it much. Maybe have it around for company and such.

Around us the regulars hung around the bar. I found myself wondering about all of these people, these people that frequent this bowling alley bar; this is their The Bar, their hang-out, their Cheers... The roommate and I would stop talking in mid sentence at times, entranced by a sudden ongoing narrative that we couldn't help but eavesdrop in on. Stories of tax fraud. Work. An angry drunk man, seemingly just angry, taking it out on people around him. A guy with a mustache talking loudly, laughing at his own jokes...

I wanted then, to know who these people were. To hear their stories, to see what drives them, to know their misery, their reason for laughter and love, what makes them go on in this world...

...

We then vowed to hang out at a bowling alley bar, just to drink at a bowling alley bar, to say we did that. Even though we did do it. The class people we were to meet, had come to the bowling alley, found it full of people, and left for another alley across town. Sorry ladies, no Gaius for you tonight.

This prompted me to remember Chicago, and all the old man Polish bars that scattered the neighborhood where I used to work, the ones I always wanted to go drink at, but never did because I felt like I'd be invading their world for some reason. That it would just be novelty for me.

I really just wanted to meet the old Polish men, get them to tell me a story or something. And to drink beer, of course.

Which reminds me, I never did go drink at Rite Liquors (on my old to-do list I had in Chicago), one of the seediest places I can remember in Chicago. A liquor store with a bar in it! And a pool table. And really cheap tobacco. And very sketchy peoples there.

...

Though I secretly wish we had gone to the other bowling alley.

Not to meet the ladies, but to hang out in that bar. They have karaoke there, and its a very, very, I repeat, very strange mix of regulars that do karaoke there. From what I remember.

And for some reason I just recalled Valentines day from a long time ago, an old girlfriend that I took to the bowling alley for Valentines Day, because I didn't want to have a traditional VD date. We bowled awkwardly, and then attempted Karaoke.

I requested Sweet Caroline, an old fave of mine. The MC came to our table looking all forlorn, and told me that someone else had already picked them song, so I made up a story about how my girlfriend's name was Caroline (it wasn't) and that it was our song (it wasn't), and its Valentine's day, so...

Still, she couldn't say yes to me, and she obviously felt bad, which made me feel bad, and she apologized profusely. I don't like to lie, even if it was meant to impress the girl I was with at the time...

...

So here's to you bowling alleys. Such strange, strange worlds to me.

I Want to be a Time Lord

2008-02-12T20:27:00.000-05:00

Hey gang. Let me introduce you to the month of February, my least favorite one, the one we like to call, "the Deal Breaker."

February is home to many great events and holidays, such as the ever popular President's day (my personal fave is CC, that's Calvin Coolidge to you, sucka!), and that other Hallmark nationally sponsored day of disgust, Valentine's Day, in which according to this culture, one must either:

A. Utterly bemoan one's fate and endlessly stress over the fact they are currently not in a relationship, feel sorry for one's self, wear all black, etc. Or,

B. Utterly bemoan one's fate and endlessly stress over what to do for the person they are currently in a relationship with, usually resulting in some sort of flashy display that the person's significant other will then gush over and compare with their friend's over whose mate had the best gift, gesture of love, etc, which basically all boils down to how much money someone spent on someone else.

We here are not bitter one bit. Nope. Never cared for VD much to begin with, in or out of a relationship, and especially not now. In the last few days I've actually been feeling quite splendid about being single. To me, it shall be just another day.

Besides, why set aside one day of the year to celebrate one's mate. Me thinks if you're truly in love with someone, that it should be celebrated pretty much every day. That goes for the sexin' up part of things to.

But I digress.

...

February is also known to possess the most wonderful of weather patterns, fully showing the grace and beauty of Mother Nature's Winter season. If by "wonderful" you mean "Oh my god it is so dark and gray I would like to kill myself now," and "weather patterns" to mean "endless, very short days of endless, overcast cloud cover, and sleet, snow storms and ice, and maybe if we're lucky we'll see the sun for about ten seconds one day towards the end of the month, if I make it that far..."

Especially if one resides in Michigan. We are currently in the midst of our fourth (?) major snow storm, getting around 6-8 inches of snow. All this after the coldest night ever that happened a couple nights ago, where the temperature fell below zero, and with wind chill, hovered like death around the -25 degree mark. That night happening after the amazing rain, sleet, ice, finally snow storm the day before that, rendering all roads completely screwed, and reportedly the fine city I reside in has officially run out of salt to dump on the roads.

There are times when I'm glad I do not possess a vehicle.

...

Luckily February is also the shortest month of the year. Sorry Black History Month, you guys get the shaft once again.

Except for Leap Year! Leap Year totally rocks! Where we pull an extra day from out of a hat and throw it on the end of the shittiest month. Here's one more day of hell for you!

Actually I'm well aware of the odd little quirks about our calendar, and am actually glad for it, because thanks to Leap year, somehow this month of dread turned out to be a three paycheck month. Cha-Ching! In your face February! That and people born on February 29th, if they happen to be 28, they are legally, technically, in fact only seven years old.

Hooray for February! I only want to know why we spell February with an "r" after the "b," when no one actually pronounces it.

...

Well, despite the weather, I'm feeling ok for once. My friend told me of a super awesome website that will probably be shut down at some point soon, where you can watch movies and tv shows for free. I've been on said website pretty much all of my free time, currently watching the entire Dr Who series (the newish one), which is fantastical and supremely rad (and British!), and also making this guy extremely happy almost to the point of tears, that show is so good.

Though I did manage to pull myself away for a couple nights out to the bar to drink entirely way too much til way too late in the morning, celebrating the leaving of yet another awesome citizen of this town, who shall be missed greatly.

I almost bought her car, the implications of which astounded me greatly, like, that I'd even consider buying a car, almost entirely on a whim. Sadly, the vehicle was not in the best shape, and is a manual (I can't drive stick. Hardly at all.) and is prone to stall out for no reason while on the road. Price wise a good choice, but overall not the best choice for me, considering I've never owned a car. Though she did convince me this vehicle would get me to Texas, but probably not much further.

Other things I've almost accomplished in the last week: Almost had band practice tonight, but everyone is feeling crappy, so no. Almost cleaned my room. Almost took a shower. Almost updated this blog. Almost attended the "Dirty Show" in Detroit, a festival of crazy people and their creative acts of sex, or sexual related something or other, which if I had gone, I almost would have seen lots of live boobies. Sigh. And almost flirted with a girl at the bar. She's either sending me signals I cannot interpret, or not sending signals at all and just being her friendly self. I can never figure it out. Usually they have to beat me over the head with it.

Anyway, if any one needs me, I'll be in the Tardis, with my sonic screwdriver, running away from the Daleks.

Um, that's nerd speak for watching more Dr. Who.

Dude Went Nuts

2008-02-06T17:18:00.000-05:00

I'll admit, its the great puffy snow, falling steadily outside of my house, and its even harder to admit that I find it quite beautiful right now. Despite this, this is February, the hardest bleakest month of the winter to get through, and its been gray for days. Despite the fact that the now falling pretty snow earlier in the day was half ice and water, balls of sleet pelting the roads, ice waiting to form over everything.

I half expected the heat to not be working in the house, but it is, thankfully... Because it wasn't that way in the workplace for the last two days, and probably won't be fixed until tomorrow. I'm used to wearing long johns under my shirts, and a sleeveless hoody. (I'm a fashion pioneer. Also in my portfolio - the double hoody, one to wear up and the other to wear down. And I'm still a prep cook...) Add a scarf and a winter hat. It felt like I was working in the walk-in refrigerator all day.

...

At band practice last night, my old roommate came home, the one I call "Zee German" because he's very proud of his heritage. Also very anal retentive and emotionally unsound. Like, way more than I could ever hope to be... and proceeded to go utterly apeshit over the fact he had had a bad date.

Some back story: We used to have numerous house meetings dedicated to the many problems he found with the other three of us' lifestyles. Most involved general cleaning of the house, which he often undertook himself due to the fact he couldn't stand the slightest bit of mess. I'll admit I can be quite a slob, but its usually contained within my own room. And while I've conquered my resentment of washing dishes, I still have a hard time cleaning the bathroom. But if you got someone as anal as him, well, why should I clean if he's just going to do it every week. Every week.

Not to mention the cats, which bothered the hell out of him. Couldn't stand the little beasts, and though I kind of sided with him a little bit, (the great worm and flea infestation of 06' sealed the deal. It forever drove a wedge between the cats and I.) I still got a little upset when he suggested getting rid of the cats, and used the term "final solution" in the same sentence. Knowing his background, I kept my eye on the kitchen oven for a while.

Also he sometimes spazzes out completely, usually in a destructive manner, which usually involves kicking chairs, throwing small appliances (broke my old microwave, and the vaccum cleaner) and loud yelling.

And so: He came into the house as we were finishing our practice, and immediately went on a rampage (as he's prone to do) and decided to kick a stool against the wall, and throw a pair of scissors against a wall, full force... I decided to take the time to clean up our beer bottles, just in case he went for those. And then decided to launch into a huge tirade about women and the pointlessness of even trying to be in a relationship.

Dude had one bad date, not even a really bad one, it just got interrupted by the girl's ex, who happened to have called during it... Ok, not cool really, but still.

I'm sitting there thinking, well, shit, congrats to you for getting the nerve up to actually go on a date with someone. Even if the girl probably had some leftover shit to deal with from her last relationship, which she apparently told you about, and you still went out with her... What did you expect? Not to mention your audience is pretty unforgiving, especially me, having gone through a huge breakup/disengagement, which I've been pretty upset about, but not to the point of breaking shit. Especially over one date. WTF?

Sorry pal, not going to feel all that bad about it.

In fact, made me feel pretty good about myself.

I mean, I know I got some emotional problems, but damn, they ain't so bad...

...

And in other news I'm thinking about going to the doctor again. My stomach's been pretty messed up lately, and it just doesn't seem to be going away. It just feels like a low kind of burning, though not all that painful, just constant kind of grinding...

Sweet Power Bands

2008-02-04T19:35:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I realized not smoking at all today was more than likely not going to happen. It was indeed the thought that counted. I did manage to smoke significantly less, at least for the first half of my day. And I'm really concentrating now on cutting down considerably. It just ain't worth it anymore.

Someone suggested cutting out behaviors and actions that make me think of smoking, which I actually pondered for a while today.

Actions that make me think of smoking:

Eating
Drinking
Waking up
Being at work
Coming home from work
Getting out of the Shower (always a good one, don't know why)
Last one of the night before I go to sleep
After sex (don't gotta worry about this one for a while)
Walking to work
Getting to work (after I grab the coffee)
etc...

Well, looks like I'll have to quit my job, stop eating, drinking, going to the bar, and sleeping, showering and waking up...

Could be in it for the long haul...

...

How come no one told me today was officially, "Everyone Get in Gaius' Way" Day. I most certainly attended this celebration of sharing work spaces, because Everyone got in my goddamn way today. People were lining up to just walk through the kitchen, stand in front of the ovens I need to get into, or in front of the walk-in door I needed to get in, especially when carrying large pots and pans and heavy Cambros full of heavy foods. One Lady really got to me, by getting in my way, seriously five times, in three different locations, each time ignoring my chants of, "Behind. Behind You. Behind. Heavy. Hot. Sharp! Hellooooo."

Just because some people are having a nice slow, easy day, doesn't mean other people around you are.

End Rant.

...

Despite this, had a good day. People in the basement seemed to be hopped up on goofballs, and were very entertaining. Except for the incessant Super Bowl talk, of which I did actually chime in because I caught half the game for no other reason except that it was on, and everyone at the bar was watching it, and commentating on it.

I did see the most amazing device though. At one point Tom Brady has this wrist band thing (I don't watch sports) that flips open to reveal a list of all the plays he can use, which after I saw it I totally wanted one.

I imagined myself wearing them at work, and flipping it open to reveal all the recipes I would be using that day. Would be totally awesome and sweet.

Super Bowel Sunday

2008-02-03T17:53:00.000-05:00

Its Super Bowl Sunday. And this fact means absolutely nothing to me, other than I'm planning on doing my usual Sunday night bar trip, to the bar up the street that has Restaurant Workers Appreciation night, where food and drinks are discounted greatly. That and usually no one is there early in the evening, and its a nice time to sit and ruminate by myself, and perhaps watch one of the many televisions. I'm wondering if the Simpsons will be on. Though I still fail to find "King of the Hill" entertaining in the slightest, though I suppose I should watch it to get a feel for the fine people's of Texas.

...

I spent last night laying in bed, listening to music and laying low, despite plans to go out to some sort of fund raising show... The hangover from the night before really did a number on me all day, and the thought of consuming more alcohol unsettled my already unsettled stomach.

I made a wise choice. My first entirely sober night since things fell apart.

Though I can't say I woke feeling all the much better about the state of my life, I did manage to spend half the morning accomplishing little things, like cleaning, and going out to work on my taxes, which I'm pleased to report I will be receiving a decent chunk of change.

I do not believe having a lot of money will bring me happiness, but it doesn't hurt to have some extra funds coming in.

The events of Friday night took more out of me than I care to admit to, and I'm not speaking strictly pill and alcohol. A minor set back on the road to recovery. Sometimes I wish I could control these emotions, turn them off at will.

("There are times I envy you, Mr. Data")

...

I'm going to attempt to quit the smoking. I'm not going to buy another pack tomorrow, or tonight for that matter. And see if I can make it through the day without smoking at all.

I only have a little bit left.

...

And a huge shout out to TCB, for calling me, checking up on me after the very drunken text message I sent him the night before. I'll be seeing you soon.

And also a huge, long overdue thank you to Spy Sweeper(TM). According to the little annoying box that pops up in the corner of my computer screen, I am now protected against 220,816 threats. I had no idea my enemies' numbers were that high, and I am a little alarmed they seem to be growing steadily over time.

Adderalls Well, That Ends Well

2008-02-02T17:56:00.000-05:00

For some reason after getting the internet hooked up in this house, whenever I check Google or log into my blog, they are displayed in German. Other websites seem to be in English. I do not know why. Maybe Google is telling me something, like move to Germany, or perhaps they are trying to expand my horizons.

...

Oh Friday night. Some friends of mine decided to go out dancing at The Bar, to the Soul Club event at which DJ's spin soul, afro, funk music and people are invited to dance. I'm not much of a dancer, but i do enjoy it, and it usually takes a few drinks to really get me into it. Let's just say I got the drinking part down last night, though I only did probably about two songs worth of dancing.

My friend's didn't seem to be in the mood to dance, and were more prone to sitting in the back of the bar drinking and talking, which suited me just fine.

Let's just say there were some complications on the dance floor. A certain someone I'm not ready to socialize with again.

So that cast a shadow over some of the evenings proceedings, and I'll admit I kind of drank a lot to deal with it, as I am prone to do from time to time, but really I tried to enjoy myself. That and half the Adderall my friend gave me, well, made things somewhat fuzzy for me.

And probably added to the minor breakdown I had when I got home.

Oops.

The good thing is that I didn't drunk dial anybody. Although I did send some drunk texts to my friends, and not the complication, which is also good. Props to me for keeping my shit somewhat together!

Though I felt like death when I woke up this morning, or shall I say, woke up with the lights on and me laying perpendicular to my bed, my legs on the floor, and then when I realized I had to be to work in three hours, I tried to sleep the correct way, and received one of those super awful leg cramps, the one that feels like an ice pick being stabbed into your calf, when your leg bends against your will. This made me walk funny for the first part of my day.

...

Work was actually kind of enjoyable today, strangely, despite the fog of my hangover, and the older ladies the share the basement work space yap yap yapping away about the most inane subjects... they literally sounded like clucking chickens to me. I was on fire with some witty banter today as well.

And I'm beginning to think L. Marge has a thing for me, cuz whenever she sees me she's all huge, radiant smiles.

Reception Problems

2008-01-31T18:40:00.000-05:00

My first day back to the basement... Overall it was a good day, despite having to tell more than a few people about my excursion down south, over and over again. A couple people gave me the, "so, you came back, huh?" to which I could barely mumble a response.

L. Marge was more than excited to see me, giving me a great yelp of a hello, which honestly unnerved me quite a bit.

Despite that, I still found I knew my recipes by heart, not like I was gone all that long, long enough to forget (one day), but I was still a little shaky about doing the work again.

...

Though after I woke up this morning I went to retrieve some Cd's from the stereo, and found to my dismay that it no longer is functioning the way it should. For some reason the five disc pod bay simply refuses to open, nor to acknowledge any Cd's inside of it.

Booooo!

Ever since I bought it, it has given me problems. I really think the thing is haunted, because for no reason at all it would turn itself on, pump the volume as loud as it could at a steady pace, and turn the radio on to no station at all, resulting in a blast of static waking me up at four in the morning.

At other times the buttons would reprogram themselves randomly, so that the eject button would turn it off, the play button switch itself to the radio, and the off button to something utterly else. It even did this with the remote control.

I learned to keep the thing unplugged at night, and in fact I barely used it. It gave me the creeps.

But hey, its all right. One less thing to pack. (wink, wink).

I just gotta find a way to break into it.

Heaving it over my head and throwing it against something hard, like concrete, seems to me a very good idea. I've always wanted to smash some sort of electronic equipment into a bunch of pieces.

(note- throwing a computer over the edge of a three story apartment building, drunkenly at four in the morning, a few times, does not result in the kind of spectacular display one might like to imagine it having. Trust me.)

...

Oh, and the stereo at work today seemed to be on the fritz as well. We do certainly abuse stereo equipment in our kitchen.

Especially the douche that dropped the old one into a giant pot of freshly made soup, after it had bounced off his extremely thick skull. Ha. That was a good one.
...

Something I forgot about airport security - Despite all the special, extra attention they gave me, somehow they neglected to find the book of matches that were in my coat pocket, which I found out about later at the bar that night, which saddened me, only because I really wanted to have a cigarette after getting out to the street.

...

And a shout out to my new friends in Austin, the wonderful people at Texas Coffee Trader's, who now know about my blog, thanks to Squid. You are all probably at Lovejoys this very minute, enjoying many, many pints, and for that I'm extremely jealous, and longing to be there.

I tried going to my The Bar the other night, and it just wasn't the same... I mean, yeah, but, really...

I ask this again, is moving to a new town simply for a bar a really bad idea?