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.
