A while back the manager of my trailer park sent out a notice about all the trash, old tires, various objects of white trash lawn decorations that where scattered through out the park, sometimes proudly displayed in peoples little, bitsy patch of grass they call our front yard. Other times just left in weird little junkyard type piles behind peoples trailers. In this notice she sent out, she stated that this is NOT a trailer park but a mobile home community. Ok, call me silly but I could call a dwarf a vertically challenged person, or I could call a 500 pound guy gravitationally challenged, but the fact remains, they are still a dwarf and a fat ass, respectively.
Looking around this place, with it's proudly flying rebel flags, NASCAR decals on almost every car (running or mechanically challenged), the empty cases of PBR and Miller High Life surrounding the garbage cans on trash day, the old toilets made into flower pots proudly displayed in yards and the mass' of children running around unattended, it sure feels, looks and smells like a trailer park. You can call it what you want but at the end of the day, this isn't some nice, expensive, gated community. No, this is a trailer park filled with Culturally Disadvantaged Caucasians.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
August 1st D-Day
Alright, I have been crazy busy the last few days between the band stuff, DJing a private party earlier tonight and life. I still haven't even gotten everything ready for vacation but that's still a week away so I have a little time left. Oh I did find time to get a haircut, so that's good because it was looking quite moppy, is that a word even? Oh well it is now. I'll post pics later, I got some good ones this weekend. Oh and I went and saw Clerks 2, I brought a friend who had never seen the original. Now she says we have to see it together. It was GREAT, though I am a Kevin Smith freak. I was laughing my ass off in the theatre, it was good so everyone should go see it.
Alright, so what this post is really about is August 1st, D-day. I am quitting smoking. I have the patches already bought, the nicotine Mint gum is ready and I am mentally prepared. My friend, Carrie is quitting with me so we can give each other moral support. I can do this and I am going to do this. I am sicka nd tired of waking up and coughing like an old man, I am tired of being out of shape because I smoke so much I get short winded too quick. I am ready for a change and this is the birthday present I am giving myself. I'm going to be 30, the big 3-0 on the 27th of Aug and I'm freaking out.
I've tried to quit before but I was such a raging bitch that my girlfriend at the time went out, bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, threw them at me and told me to just have a freaking cigarette and chill out. I was going it cold turkey that time. This time I know that I can't be a bitch so I got the patch, I got the gum, I have these quit smoking relaxation cd's, I am ready. I'm not doing it for anyone but myself, I told my roommate as of Aug. 1st no more smoking in the house, I'm putting away all the ashtrays and such. Now this is no small thing, I'm not the occassional smoker who only has one or two when they drink, no no, I smoke a pack and a half a day. thats 40 cigarettes a day. Oi, no wonder my lungs feel like they are on fire at times, they probably are.
And I have the whole weight gain thing all figured out, I'm just gonna eat a lot of celery and carrots. Once I can actually breath then I'm going to start going to the gym. As it is right now, I'd have a freakign heart attack if I over did it. I think turning 30 has made me realize that if I don't do something this is the body I'm gonna be stuck with and all the bitching and moaning in the world won't change that, I have to change it.
So right now is my time to be selfish. I can't be worried about why someone doesn't talk to me anymore, or if I've done something wrong. I can't worry about whether or not anyone wants to be with me. or loves me, or thinks about me, or even misses me because right now I have to put all my time and energy into myself and getting me to where I want to be. I have a 5 year plan all figured out and I'm ok if I have to do it alone because at least I know I have been true to myself, which is why I am doing this. I want to be healthy and strong - mind, body and soul.
Alright, so what this post is really about is August 1st, D-day. I am quitting smoking. I have the patches already bought, the nicotine Mint gum is ready and I am mentally prepared. My friend, Carrie is quitting with me so we can give each other moral support. I can do this and I am going to do this. I am sicka nd tired of waking up and coughing like an old man, I am tired of being out of shape because I smoke so much I get short winded too quick. I am ready for a change and this is the birthday present I am giving myself. I'm going to be 30, the big 3-0 on the 27th of Aug and I'm freaking out.
I've tried to quit before but I was such a raging bitch that my girlfriend at the time went out, bought a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, threw them at me and told me to just have a freaking cigarette and chill out. I was going it cold turkey that time. This time I know that I can't be a bitch so I got the patch, I got the gum, I have these quit smoking relaxation cd's, I am ready. I'm not doing it for anyone but myself, I told my roommate as of Aug. 1st no more smoking in the house, I'm putting away all the ashtrays and such. Now this is no small thing, I'm not the occassional smoker who only has one or two when they drink, no no, I smoke a pack and a half a day. thats 40 cigarettes a day. Oi, no wonder my lungs feel like they are on fire at times, they probably are.
And I have the whole weight gain thing all figured out, I'm just gonna eat a lot of celery and carrots. Once I can actually breath then I'm going to start going to the gym. As it is right now, I'd have a freakign heart attack if I over did it. I think turning 30 has made me realize that if I don't do something this is the body I'm gonna be stuck with and all the bitching and moaning in the world won't change that, I have to change it.
So right now is my time to be selfish. I can't be worried about why someone doesn't talk to me anymore, or if I've done something wrong. I can't worry about whether or not anyone wants to be with me. or loves me, or thinks about me, or even misses me because right now I have to put all my time and energy into myself and getting me to where I want to be. I have a 5 year plan all figured out and I'm ok if I have to do it alone because at least I know I have been true to myself, which is why I am doing this. I want to be healthy and strong - mind, body and soul.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Tale of Three Brothers
I have three younger brothers; Bill, Jack and Bobby. One by birth and the other two by choice and because they were always there. For as long as I can remember, the three of them have always been together. Around my family when you say "the Boys" everyone knows exactly who you are talking about. I have had the joy and pleasure of watching the three of them grow from annoying brats to three amazing guys. I can still remember them all riding around on their BMX bikes, funny to think they all have crotch rockets now. And that they are all old enough to finally go to the bars. To me they will always be my little brothers even though they all are taller than I am. It amazes me to watch the three of them because they really are like three peas in a pod. They all got into custom cars and tricked out theirs. Then when one got a motorcycle the others got their own within months. It's hard to think of one thing while they were growing up that they all didn't do together.
My biological brother is Bill, he's 21 and a great guy. I think God was determined that Mom and Dad have at least one good kid because Bill is allergic to alcohol, which is ironic considering he's one of the best flair bartenders around. A flair bartender is that cool bartender that can flip bottles around his back and juggle them while pouring the perfect drink, yeah, that's Bill. He can be a bit of a hot head at times but he also one of the most intense guys I have ever known. He reminds me of my dad in that he doesn't talk too much but when he does get serious the wisdom that comes out of his mouth blows me away. He's a determined, stubborn, hard headed guy who sticks to his guns. He knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waiver once he's made up his mind. He does what he has to do to get it done. He also has this soft, caring side that he really doesn't show to anyone except those really close to him.
Bobby is my JewBoy, also 21. That kid is one of the funniest people I know. He's so full of life and fun it's hard to be in a bad mood around him. He's also the biggest daredevil, usually the first one to do something crazy and stupid. He's a little bit of a bad boy but not the kind to get arrested but the kind the can be reckless and live for the moment and not worry to much about the consequences. Not too much ever seems to piss him off, he just laughs things off and doesn't take too much seriously. It's amazing considering how hard his mother was on him growing up. He practically lived at my parents house from junior high on.
Jack is the more reserved one, he just turned 21. Ok he was the more reserved one but I'll get to why I say use to in a minute. Jack has always been the one that had to be talked into going along with the crazier things the other two thought up. He was usually the one that followed the others lead, until last year. He is the one that tries to keep in touch with everyone else in the family. He's also the most emotional out of the three and doesn't mind showing it. That kid has mad love and is such a great guy. I remember quite a few times over the years going to my parents house and Bill would be out or at work and Jack would just be chilling in his room upstairs. His room being, Jacks room because Bill had moved his bedroom downstairs so Jack kinda took over the upstairs one.
I remember the conversation my family and the boys had a couple years ago when Bobby wanted to join the Army right out of high school. I of course went on the whole Bush's Oil War tirade and in the end I thought the matter was dropped, it was for a year. Then out of the blue Jack tell us all he joined the Navy. Yes, our little Jack had done something the others hadn't done first and joined the Navy for 6 freakin' years!!!
I'm not agaisnt the military at all, I'm agaisnt a war that kills our brothers and sisters so that Bush and his fat cat buddies can get richer. My cousin was in the Navy, I have many friends in the Navy, considering I live around one of the biggest Naval Bases around you can't really get away from it around here. I was I bit sad knowing that Jack was going to be gone for so long but I knew at least on a ship he wouldn't be in the line of fire. But then a couple months later the other two get it into their heads that they are going to join. Are they going the nice safe Navy route? Hells no, they go full on Army, infantry no less. You know, the ones on the frontline? Yeah thats what my bonehead brothers signed up for. They made sure that they would be able to train together, be in the same company and division. They wanted to do it all together. So after many tears they left for basic. Less than a month later we get a call, Bill has to come home because he has a problem with his eyes that requires surgery.
Many a person would have taken that as a sign and left it at that but not Bill, oh no, he is hellbent to get back in. He wants to get the surgery done as soon as possible so he can re-enlist and finish basic. He wants to go to Iraq. He told me one night that it's just something he feels he needs to do. Bobby on the other hand doesn't want to go. He just finished basic less than a month ago and less then two weeks later he got his orders. He left for Iraq last Monday. He's going to be stateside for a short time and then sent over. He just got of fucking basic. None of my brothers are killers but I guess when you are fighting for your life and Bush Co.'s oil interests you do what you have to do.
This is the first time since they all met in preschool that they have all been apart. Jack leaves for a ship in a week, Bobby is training and shipping overseas and Bill is here, doing whatever he can to get over there. The war has become personal to many people, especially for the men and women over there who aren't really sure what they are fighting for anymore. I just hope when it's all said and done, all three of my brothers will be back home, in one piece, settling down and giving me more nieces and nephews to dote over. I just don't think things are ever going to be the same for them or any of us again.
I wish I could have just kept them younger for a while more until this was all over. I would give anything to have them hanging out in the driveway with their bicycles, talking about soccer practice or playing a pick up game of basketball. Or to open my parents fridge and ask my mom where all the leftover spagetti she told me she had was, only to have her reply (as always), "the Boys got to it." I do think they have all three become incredible guys, each with much to offer the world. I really pray they all get the chance.
My biological brother is Bill, he's 21 and a great guy. I think God was determined that Mom and Dad have at least one good kid because Bill is allergic to alcohol, which is ironic considering he's one of the best flair bartenders around. A flair bartender is that cool bartender that can flip bottles around his back and juggle them while pouring the perfect drink, yeah, that's Bill. He can be a bit of a hot head at times but he also one of the most intense guys I have ever known. He reminds me of my dad in that he doesn't talk too much but when he does get serious the wisdom that comes out of his mouth blows me away. He's a determined, stubborn, hard headed guy who sticks to his guns. He knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waiver once he's made up his mind. He does what he has to do to get it done. He also has this soft, caring side that he really doesn't show to anyone except those really close to him.
Bobby is my JewBoy, also 21. That kid is one of the funniest people I know. He's so full of life and fun it's hard to be in a bad mood around him. He's also the biggest daredevil, usually the first one to do something crazy and stupid. He's a little bit of a bad boy but not the kind to get arrested but the kind the can be reckless and live for the moment and not worry to much about the consequences. Not too much ever seems to piss him off, he just laughs things off and doesn't take too much seriously. It's amazing considering how hard his mother was on him growing up. He practically lived at my parents house from junior high on.
Jack is the more reserved one, he just turned 21. Ok he was the more reserved one but I'll get to why I say use to in a minute. Jack has always been the one that had to be talked into going along with the crazier things the other two thought up. He was usually the one that followed the others lead, until last year. He is the one that tries to keep in touch with everyone else in the family. He's also the most emotional out of the three and doesn't mind showing it. That kid has mad love and is such a great guy. I remember quite a few times over the years going to my parents house and Bill would be out or at work and Jack would just be chilling in his room upstairs. His room being, Jacks room because Bill had moved his bedroom downstairs so Jack kinda took over the upstairs one.
I remember the conversation my family and the boys had a couple years ago when Bobby wanted to join the Army right out of high school. I of course went on the whole Bush's Oil War tirade and in the end I thought the matter was dropped, it was for a year. Then out of the blue Jack tell us all he joined the Navy. Yes, our little Jack had done something the others hadn't done first and joined the Navy for 6 freakin' years!!!
I'm not agaisnt the military at all, I'm agaisnt a war that kills our brothers and sisters so that Bush and his fat cat buddies can get richer. My cousin was in the Navy, I have many friends in the Navy, considering I live around one of the biggest Naval Bases around you can't really get away from it around here. I was I bit sad knowing that Jack was going to be gone for so long but I knew at least on a ship he wouldn't be in the line of fire. But then a couple months later the other two get it into their heads that they are going to join. Are they going the nice safe Navy route? Hells no, they go full on Army, infantry no less. You know, the ones on the frontline? Yeah thats what my bonehead brothers signed up for. They made sure that they would be able to train together, be in the same company and division. They wanted to do it all together. So after many tears they left for basic. Less than a month later we get a call, Bill has to come home because he has a problem with his eyes that requires surgery.
Many a person would have taken that as a sign and left it at that but not Bill, oh no, he is hellbent to get back in. He wants to get the surgery done as soon as possible so he can re-enlist and finish basic. He wants to go to Iraq. He told me one night that it's just something he feels he needs to do. Bobby on the other hand doesn't want to go. He just finished basic less than a month ago and less then two weeks later he got his orders. He left for Iraq last Monday. He's going to be stateside for a short time and then sent over. He just got of fucking basic. None of my brothers are killers but I guess when you are fighting for your life and Bush Co.'s oil interests you do what you have to do.
This is the first time since they all met in preschool that they have all been apart. Jack leaves for a ship in a week, Bobby is training and shipping overseas and Bill is here, doing whatever he can to get over there. The war has become personal to many people, especially for the men and women over there who aren't really sure what they are fighting for anymore. I just hope when it's all said and done, all three of my brothers will be back home, in one piece, settling down and giving me more nieces and nephews to dote over. I just don't think things are ever going to be the same for them or any of us again.
I wish I could have just kept them younger for a while more until this was all over. I would give anything to have them hanging out in the driveway with their bicycles, talking about soccer practice or playing a pick up game of basketball. Or to open my parents fridge and ask my mom where all the leftover spagetti she told me she had was, only to have her reply (as always), "the Boys got to it." I do think they have all three become incredible guys, each with much to offer the world. I really pray they all get the chance.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Wants vs. Needs
Lately I have been thinking about what I want and what I really need. I have a lot of wants but surprisingly not as many needs. A want is just that, it's not something required for me to live or substain. Like, I want an Xbox360, like I really really really want one but try as I might there is no argument I can make about how it is needed for me live. I need to quit smoking because if I keep smoking I'm going to die, so I need the patch more than I want an Xbox 360. Because needs outweigh wants. Though it breaks my heart to say so because I want an Xbox 360 so much it's pretty close to a need.
I want to be Angelina Jolie's naughty, little mattress monkey. I need someone who loves me and will be there for me. Having just casual sex with a hottie is all well and good, but it's not so much good for the heart. I want to be loved, but I think maybe that's a need and not a want. I think people can die of loneliness and sadness. I want to be first in someone's life and if not the very first then at least in the top 3. Is that a need, no, but it does make for a very lonely future ahead if I don't get it. Maybe it is a need, because I want to feel needed, no wait, I need to feel needed because living isn't just breathing and going through the motions. It's being alive and striving to find contentment in your own world and skin. So if I look at that then, yes - I need to be a priority to someone. Because doesn't everyone want to be the ONE special someone to someone else?
I have given up trying because just when I thought I had found it, I find that someone else seems to make her happier, seems to make her life complete, seems to be her priority. And who am I to even think to ask her to give up the safe and secure life she has built with him to be with me. Who am I to want her to do that?? I wanted to believe that there is a such thing as a happy ending, but I need to face the facts. I want to believe that if two people honestly love each other they can work it out, but I need to realize that actions speak louder than words.
She's too busy for me, she has this whole other life that I have no clue about or any way into. I try to play it off like I'm perfectly ok with everything but I need to honest. I hate the fact that I have been completely pushed to the side. I hate the fact that I don't matter in her world anymore. I hate the fact that I allowed myself to feel wanted and needed by someone else only to be so quickly tossed aside like a once favorite toy that has been forgotten and replaced. I understand why, but I want it to be different. I want her to need me, like I need her.
I need to get over it, I just don't want to.
I want to be Angelina Jolie's naughty, little mattress monkey. I need someone who loves me and will be there for me. Having just casual sex with a hottie is all well and good, but it's not so much good for the heart. I want to be loved, but I think maybe that's a need and not a want. I think people can die of loneliness and sadness. I want to be first in someone's life and if not the very first then at least in the top 3. Is that a need, no, but it does make for a very lonely future ahead if I don't get it. Maybe it is a need, because I want to feel needed, no wait, I need to feel needed because living isn't just breathing and going through the motions. It's being alive and striving to find contentment in your own world and skin. So if I look at that then, yes - I need to be a priority to someone. Because doesn't everyone want to be the ONE special someone to someone else?
I have given up trying because just when I thought I had found it, I find that someone else seems to make her happier, seems to make her life complete, seems to be her priority. And who am I to even think to ask her to give up the safe and secure life she has built with him to be with me. Who am I to want her to do that?? I wanted to believe that there is a such thing as a happy ending, but I need to face the facts. I want to believe that if two people honestly love each other they can work it out, but I need to realize that actions speak louder than words.
She's too busy for me, she has this whole other life that I have no clue about or any way into. I try to play it off like I'm perfectly ok with everything but I need to honest. I hate the fact that I have been completely pushed to the side. I hate the fact that I don't matter in her world anymore. I hate the fact that I allowed myself to feel wanted and needed by someone else only to be so quickly tossed aside like a once favorite toy that has been forgotten and replaced. I understand why, but I want it to be different. I want her to need me, like I need her.
I need to get over it, I just don't want to.
Monday, July 24, 2006
My Dirty Little Secret
It's no secret that I am obsessed with music, with making it, listening to it, buying imports, 7"s, vinyl, rare remixes, I love music. You would be hard pressed to find anyone with a bigger music collection than me. There is one thing though, one type of music I can't stand. I get a lot of shit for it because everyone I know listens to it. And being a music fanatic such as myself it does seem a bit odd that I am really just not into this genre but I've tried. It came as kind of a blow to me when a friend of mine said I had no taste in music or appreciation for music because of this.
I can't stand classic rock, there I said it. I tried to get into it, I tried to pretend that AC/DC was good, I really wanted to understand why the Rolling Stones are considered Gods. I can't stand the whole late 60's/70's, Hendricks and all that. I will concede that there are a few good songs but on the whole I think the whole genre is shit. I don't know why honestly. I'm not saying that the big hair bands of the 80's were all that much better but I would rather listen to that than Classic Rock all day if I'm forced. I like Tom Petty but 80's Petty, not pre 80's. It's weird considering some of the music I listen to, you would just naturally assume I would like classic rock because a lot of what I listen to has it roots in classic rock, but alas, that is not the case.
Maybe it's because my parents never listened to it. My dad has all these old vinyls, like Hermans Hermits, Neil Diamond, The Monkee's, Dolly Parton, like a lot of 60's pop music and classic country, so we listened to that when I was a kid. So I grew up on old people music, old country and whatever happened to be on the radio. We had an 8 track player for YEARS, like my dads stereo was way older than me. I am positive my dad was the last person to own and finally get rid of an 8 track player in the whole Tri-State area. Lynard Skynard, The Who, The Doors, all those types, I can't get into them. Believe me I have tried because everyone tells me I'm missing out but personally I don't think so. I have an appreciation for people who can get into it but it's just not my thing.
It wasn't until I was a freshman in high school that I realized that there was a whole world of music out there that wasn't played on the radio. I loved My Life with the Thrill Kill Cult, Front 242, NIN's first album changed my life and opened my eyes to all that music could be and was to me. The Smiths, Joy Division, Built to Spill, Depeche Mode, The Cure, Pet Shop Boys, KMFDM, that was music that spoke to me and still does to this day. The heavy, deep, Goth beginning type music was what got me going followed later by industrial and leading to my love of techno/dance.
When I was pissed off I listened to KMFDM not AC/DC, when I was feeling mellow and wanted to think, I listened to The Cure, not the Doors. When I was depressed because that hot chick in chemistry barely realized I existed, I listened to Morrisey and the Pixies. When I needed to listen to a chick tell it like it was I listened to the Sugar Cubes, not Janis.
So, I'm not saying classic rock is shit, I'm just saying I had an alternative growing up. My parents weren't the kind to have the radio on often unless it was talk radio. We really only used the record player at Christmas to listen to all the Christmas albums we had. My family was more likely to have the TV on as background noise than the stereo. So I didn't grow up listening to all that classic rock stuff and the few songs I do like, I grew an appreciation for because my friends forced me to listen to them- repeatedly. There are a couple exceptions as there is to everything in life and Pink Floyd is mine.
I promise not to roll my eyes too much when you force me to listen to Highway to Hell for the gazillionth time as long as you let me toss in this really great mix cd I made of my current favorite Emo Boy Band I'm thinking is great, ok? I won't bitch about how high pitched guitars are overused and annoying in the 70's. But in return you can't go on about how Morrisey is a self pretenous prick, ok? I think I can get along with all you Classic Rock lovers out there as long as you don't keep telling me I'm a twat for not liking it and have no taste because in my world, oyu are really the one who is missing out on the beauty that is The Pixies and such.
I can't stand classic rock, there I said it. I tried to get into it, I tried to pretend that AC/DC was good, I really wanted to understand why the Rolling Stones are considered Gods. I can't stand the whole late 60's/70's, Hendricks and all that. I will concede that there are a few good songs but on the whole I think the whole genre is shit. I don't know why honestly. I'm not saying that the big hair bands of the 80's were all that much better but I would rather listen to that than Classic Rock all day if I'm forced. I like Tom Petty but 80's Petty, not pre 80's. It's weird considering some of the music I listen to, you would just naturally assume I would like classic rock because a lot of what I listen to has it roots in classic rock, but alas, that is not the case.
Maybe it's because my parents never listened to it. My dad has all these old vinyls, like Hermans Hermits, Neil Diamond, The Monkee's, Dolly Parton, like a lot of 60's pop music and classic country, so we listened to that when I was a kid. So I grew up on old people music, old country and whatever happened to be on the radio. We had an 8 track player for YEARS, like my dads stereo was way older than me. I am positive my dad was the last person to own and finally get rid of an 8 track player in the whole Tri-State area. Lynard Skynard, The Who, The Doors, all those types, I can't get into them. Believe me I have tried because everyone tells me I'm missing out but personally I don't think so. I have an appreciation for people who can get into it but it's just not my thing.
It wasn't until I was a freshman in high school that I realized that there was a whole world of music out there that wasn't played on the radio. I loved My Life with the Thrill Kill Cult, Front 242, NIN's first album changed my life and opened my eyes to all that music could be and was to me. The Smiths, Joy Division, Built to Spill, Depeche Mode, The Cure, Pet Shop Boys, KMFDM, that was music that spoke to me and still does to this day. The heavy, deep, Goth beginning type music was what got me going followed later by industrial and leading to my love of techno/dance.
When I was pissed off I listened to KMFDM not AC/DC, when I was feeling mellow and wanted to think, I listened to The Cure, not the Doors. When I was depressed because that hot chick in chemistry barely realized I existed, I listened to Morrisey and the Pixies. When I needed to listen to a chick tell it like it was I listened to the Sugar Cubes, not Janis.
So, I'm not saying classic rock is shit, I'm just saying I had an alternative growing up. My parents weren't the kind to have the radio on often unless it was talk radio. We really only used the record player at Christmas to listen to all the Christmas albums we had. My family was more likely to have the TV on as background noise than the stereo. So I didn't grow up listening to all that classic rock stuff and the few songs I do like, I grew an appreciation for because my friends forced me to listen to them- repeatedly. There are a couple exceptions as there is to everything in life and Pink Floyd is mine.
I promise not to roll my eyes too much when you force me to listen to Highway to Hell for the gazillionth time as long as you let me toss in this really great mix cd I made of my current favorite Emo Boy Band I'm thinking is great, ok? I won't bitch about how high pitched guitars are overused and annoying in the 70's. But in return you can't go on about how Morrisey is a self pretenous prick, ok? I think I can get along with all you Classic Rock lovers out there as long as you don't keep telling me I'm a twat for not liking it and have no taste because in my world, oyu are really the one who is missing out on the beauty that is The Pixies and such.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Why I go to the Bar
Now, I'm just gonna have a completely random little post here just because I feel the need to defend myself a little bit. I do not go to the bar to get drunk, I do not go to the bar to pick up chicks (anymore), I do not go to the bar because I have nothing else to do with my life. I go because my friends are there, because they never really want to do anything else and if there was some place else to go and hang out with them, I would gladly do so. I'm getting tired of the bar/club scene.
I'm almost 30, it's time to grow up. I really just want to have a family and all that cool grown up stuff. I want to have other people to worry about, think about, share things with. I have that with my friends, a lot of them I've been friends with for at least 10 years, we have been through a lot together, we have made each other our family. But I want my own family, I want someone to come home to after work. I want someone to share those little alone at home moments with. Someone who will come in here and make me get rid of most my tacky, childish knick knacks and give this place a feeling of home and not the current college dormroom look it has. I want someone to gently remind me to pick up my socks and then not so gently remind me again when I forget. I want someone to fall asleep holding and wake up next to, someone to give me a reason to decorate for the holidays. I want a partner and I know better to think I am going to find one at some little gay bar in the sticks. It's just because this is the sticks, there isn't much else to do.
I can't help that my friends are at the bar, I hate the fact that it's all they want to do. I also DJ so that's kind of a club centric kinda thing. Also I don't drunk drive, I actually have only a few times and those times I am so completely grateful I didn't hurt anyone and so utterly disappointed in myself for doing so.
I'm not getting any younger and I think a quiet night at home actually sounds nice, I would love to be all domestic and settled. To not have to worry about meeting someone because that someone is already there with me, cuddling on the couch as we watch some chick flick I'm only watching because she wants to. Sounds perfect to me.
I'm almost 30, it's time to grow up. I really just want to have a family and all that cool grown up stuff. I want to have other people to worry about, think about, share things with. I have that with my friends, a lot of them I've been friends with for at least 10 years, we have been through a lot together, we have made each other our family. But I want my own family, I want someone to come home to after work. I want someone to share those little alone at home moments with. Someone who will come in here and make me get rid of most my tacky, childish knick knacks and give this place a feeling of home and not the current college dormroom look it has. I want someone to gently remind me to pick up my socks and then not so gently remind me again when I forget. I want someone to fall asleep holding and wake up next to, someone to give me a reason to decorate for the holidays. I want a partner and I know better to think I am going to find one at some little gay bar in the sticks. It's just because this is the sticks, there isn't much else to do.
I can't help that my friends are at the bar, I hate the fact that it's all they want to do. I also DJ so that's kind of a club centric kinda thing. Also I don't drunk drive, I actually have only a few times and those times I am so completely grateful I didn't hurt anyone and so utterly disappointed in myself for doing so.
I'm not getting any younger and I think a quiet night at home actually sounds nice, I would love to be all domestic and settled. To not have to worry about meeting someone because that someone is already there with me, cuddling on the couch as we watch some chick flick I'm only watching because she wants to. Sounds perfect to me.
Drag Queen Bingo Inferno
The other night some friends and I decided we would try something new, different, fun. We were gonna go play Bingo at the gay bar. I come from a long line of Bingo enthusiast and was raised with an almost religious reverence towards the game. I remember being 6 at the campground and watching my mom and grandma play Bingo while us kids went swimming. Sometimes if I was feeling to sunburned to go swimming Grams would let me go to Bingo in the lodge with her. I was allowed to put little dried out corn kernel's on my very own card, it was all so very grown up to a 6 year old.
My Mom and Grams still go to Bingo together every Sunday afternoon, sometimes my Aunt goes and my older Sister tries to make it as often as possible. My Cousin and I use to go when we were really bored to the casino to play the midnight Bingo together, then we would hit the slots and blackjack tables afterwards. So Bingo is in my blood, it's a part of my families history. I'm sure when my ancestors where stuck on that cross Atlantic voyage to the New World, they had a full on Bingo game going on below deck.
When Dropout asked me if I wanted to go with her and her girl, CC I was all about it. A girl can only hang out around the house so much and play so many video games feeling depressed. I'm full on in the middle of a break up? Breather? Hiatus? Pause? With the girl I'm in love with, so my friends have taken it upon themselves to get me out of the house as much as possible. Something about sitting around waiting for a phone call or IM that might not come is unhealthy, so they say. They also say if they have to hear about how great she is and perfect for me they are gonna duct tape my mouth shut so I mean really what do they know?
I got dressed and waited for them to come pick me up because my car has been having little issues with starting lately. I have no clue what's wrong with it, sometimes it starts other times it takes like 100 tries to get it going. People tell me I should just get rid of it but I can't, it belonged to someone very close and dear to me who passed away last summer. Losing that car would be like losing him again, if that makes any sense, it does to me. Anywho, they came and picked me up and off to the gay bar we went.
The amount of queers, drag queens, fag hags and such that had turned out to play Bingo was quite impressive. The two Drag Queens - Mona Lot and Anita Little - where quite entertaining and the crowd was pretty enthusiastic for a week night. I had already gotten my ass whipped at Mortal Kombat earlier that night so I was determined to win at least one game of Bingo. My pride was on the line, besides, like I said it was in my blood. It's a little weird to be a the club when there wasn't a DJ. The only music was from the jukebox which had been turned down low so we could hear the calling out of the Bingo balls. It had a completely different vibe about it. It didn't' feel so seedy and the smell of desperation was missing from the air that night, along with the overtly heavy cigarette smoke. It did still have that stale smell about it but not the hazy smoke.
We got a table with some other friends up by the bar and grabbed our cards. I was quite oblivious to the fact that my friends had more than just playing Bingo in mind when they had asked me to come out with them that night. I was saying hello to Mando and her girl, Tipsy when they made a big show of introducing me to a friend of Tipsy's from work, who I'll just call Cute Girl From Work, or CG(FW). A very vague recollection was beginning to form in the back of my mind about them talking to me about her last weekend at the bonfire we had been at. I say vague because that whole weekend was a little hazy due to the fact I was partying with my brothers because one was leaving for Iraq on Monday, (I miss you JewBoy!).
Of course everyone sits down so that CG and I are next to each other. Suddenly, it dawns on me, holy shit, this is a complete set up! Those bastards used the lure of Bingo and Drag Queens to set me up with someone they approved of. I was a bit bent about that. Did they have no respect for the fact I was going through something already and I was determined to see how that played out. I had already met the woman I loved, granted it wasn't' going as I had hoped or at all currently but throwing another girl at me was not the answer, no matter how nice, cute or funny this girl was. I was polite of course and my general out in public witty, humorous, charming self. It wasn't CG's fault my friends could be twats.
A couple hours later we were all laughing, talking and still playing Bingo, everyone I was with had already had that golden opportunity to yell out BINGO, with the exception of me and CC. I just couldn't win that night, I swear. CG was talking to me and offered to go get me a drink, not wanting to give her the wrong idea I pulled out some money to pay for my own drink, but she pushed back at me and told me not to be silly. After she got back we were talking about the War and my brother who had just left, she had 2 friends that were over there. It's getting harder and harder to find people who aren't personally affected by this pointless blood for oil war. Anyone who has ever had the pleasure to hear me get all wound up about the war knows how completely into getting my point out and passionately against it I am. CG leaned towards me and told me how sexy I looked when I was all worked up. She casually put her hand on my knee, looking me straight in the eyes the whole time. I felt my face turn bright red, I completely forgot what I was saying. I was trying to find a way to politely tell her that I wasn't into her. Though I'm not sure how she got the idea I would have been what with me talking about how great this girl I knew was and how I was sure that the girl I was kinda with was the one. I had even pulled out that old cliche of nothing worth having is easy.
Luckily, I was spared with having to come up with anything to say because we heard a loud, "Fuck! my wig's on fire" It seems the Drag Queens had been doing a flaming shot and when Anita had bent down to blow it out her wig had caught on fire, I'm not surprised with all the hairspray she uses. Quick thinking Barback Boy used the little nozzle gun to spray some seltzer water on it and in the end Anita's wig had just been a little singed. After she pulled that little bit back and tucked it behind her ear, you could barely notice. We all had a good laugh and the momentary commotion had given me the chance to stand up to watch the excitement. I went over to CC and Dropout and asked the, if they were ready to leave. Dropout was like, oh we should stay a little more but I begged off saying I was realyl tired and I had to work the next day. They relented and after a quick round of hugs and good byes we were off.
When they dropped me off I went inside and went straight to my computer, hoping I had a message waiting from The One, but alas I was a triple loser that night. I guess even the great ones have an off ngiht sometimes and there was always tomorrow. Tomorrow I would eel better and things would look a bit brighter I told myself as I went to bed. If a Drag Queen can shrug off her wig catching on fire then I could shrug off one night of being a loser. She'll call me tomorrow. Tomorrow she'll realize she misses me. Tomorrow I'll kick my roomies ass at Mortal Kombat. Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes.
My Mom and Grams still go to Bingo together every Sunday afternoon, sometimes my Aunt goes and my older Sister tries to make it as often as possible. My Cousin and I use to go when we were really bored to the casino to play the midnight Bingo together, then we would hit the slots and blackjack tables afterwards. So Bingo is in my blood, it's a part of my families history. I'm sure when my ancestors where stuck on that cross Atlantic voyage to the New World, they had a full on Bingo game going on below deck.
When Dropout asked me if I wanted to go with her and her girl, CC I was all about it. A girl can only hang out around the house so much and play so many video games feeling depressed. I'm full on in the middle of a break up? Breather? Hiatus? Pause? With the girl I'm in love with, so my friends have taken it upon themselves to get me out of the house as much as possible. Something about sitting around waiting for a phone call or IM that might not come is unhealthy, so they say. They also say if they have to hear about how great she is and perfect for me they are gonna duct tape my mouth shut so I mean really what do they know?
I got dressed and waited for them to come pick me up because my car has been having little issues with starting lately. I have no clue what's wrong with it, sometimes it starts other times it takes like 100 tries to get it going. People tell me I should just get rid of it but I can't, it belonged to someone very close and dear to me who passed away last summer. Losing that car would be like losing him again, if that makes any sense, it does to me. Anywho, they came and picked me up and off to the gay bar we went.
The amount of queers, drag queens, fag hags and such that had turned out to play Bingo was quite impressive. The two Drag Queens - Mona Lot and Anita Little - where quite entertaining and the crowd was pretty enthusiastic for a week night. I had already gotten my ass whipped at Mortal Kombat earlier that night so I was determined to win at least one game of Bingo. My pride was on the line, besides, like I said it was in my blood. It's a little weird to be a the club when there wasn't a DJ. The only music was from the jukebox which had been turned down low so we could hear the calling out of the Bingo balls. It had a completely different vibe about it. It didn't' feel so seedy and the smell of desperation was missing from the air that night, along with the overtly heavy cigarette smoke. It did still have that stale smell about it but not the hazy smoke.
We got a table with some other friends up by the bar and grabbed our cards. I was quite oblivious to the fact that my friends had more than just playing Bingo in mind when they had asked me to come out with them that night. I was saying hello to Mando and her girl, Tipsy when they made a big show of introducing me to a friend of Tipsy's from work, who I'll just call Cute Girl From Work, or CG(FW). A very vague recollection was beginning to form in the back of my mind about them talking to me about her last weekend at the bonfire we had been at. I say vague because that whole weekend was a little hazy due to the fact I was partying with my brothers because one was leaving for Iraq on Monday, (I miss you JewBoy!).
Of course everyone sits down so that CG and I are next to each other. Suddenly, it dawns on me, holy shit, this is a complete set up! Those bastards used the lure of Bingo and Drag Queens to set me up with someone they approved of. I was a bit bent about that. Did they have no respect for the fact I was going through something already and I was determined to see how that played out. I had already met the woman I loved, granted it wasn't' going as I had hoped or at all currently but throwing another girl at me was not the answer, no matter how nice, cute or funny this girl was. I was polite of course and my general out in public witty, humorous, charming self. It wasn't CG's fault my friends could be twats.
A couple hours later we were all laughing, talking and still playing Bingo, everyone I was with had already had that golden opportunity to yell out BINGO, with the exception of me and CC. I just couldn't win that night, I swear. CG was talking to me and offered to go get me a drink, not wanting to give her the wrong idea I pulled out some money to pay for my own drink, but she pushed back at me and told me not to be silly. After she got back we were talking about the War and my brother who had just left, she had 2 friends that were over there. It's getting harder and harder to find people who aren't personally affected by this pointless blood for oil war. Anyone who has ever had the pleasure to hear me get all wound up about the war knows how completely into getting my point out and passionately against it I am. CG leaned towards me and told me how sexy I looked when I was all worked up. She casually put her hand on my knee, looking me straight in the eyes the whole time. I felt my face turn bright red, I completely forgot what I was saying. I was trying to find a way to politely tell her that I wasn't into her. Though I'm not sure how she got the idea I would have been what with me talking about how great this girl I knew was and how I was sure that the girl I was kinda with was the one. I had even pulled out that old cliche of nothing worth having is easy.
Luckily, I was spared with having to come up with anything to say because we heard a loud, "Fuck! my wig's on fire" It seems the Drag Queens had been doing a flaming shot and when Anita had bent down to blow it out her wig had caught on fire, I'm not surprised with all the hairspray she uses. Quick thinking Barback Boy used the little nozzle gun to spray some seltzer water on it and in the end Anita's wig had just been a little singed. After she pulled that little bit back and tucked it behind her ear, you could barely notice. We all had a good laugh and the momentary commotion had given me the chance to stand up to watch the excitement. I went over to CC and Dropout and asked the, if they were ready to leave. Dropout was like, oh we should stay a little more but I begged off saying I was realyl tired and I had to work the next day. They relented and after a quick round of hugs and good byes we were off.
When they dropped me off I went inside and went straight to my computer, hoping I had a message waiting from The One, but alas I was a triple loser that night. I guess even the great ones have an off ngiht sometimes and there was always tomorrow. Tomorrow I would eel better and things would look a bit brighter I told myself as I went to bed. If a Drag Queen can shrug off her wig catching on fire then I could shrug off one night of being a loser. She'll call me tomorrow. Tomorrow she'll realize she misses me. Tomorrow I'll kick my roomies ass at Mortal Kombat. Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Mortal Combat Smack Down
Yesterday was a long day at work so I just wanted to go home last night and relax. Instead I found myself fighting for my very life, kinda. Ok, so it wasn't that dramatic but my roomie wanted to play a little Mortal Combat. I'm not one to turn down the chance to kick some serious virtual ass, so we started what was to be a friendly round of Mortal Combat.... FIGHT!!...
I don't know why I always pick the chick fighters. I would like to think it's because I'm all about girl power and all that but I think the truth lies closer to the fact I find it incredibly hilarious that they have these gargantuan boobies and barely any kind of outfits on. And the moves they have some of these girls make! Sonya has this move in Mortal Combat Deception where she does this scissor kick thing but ends up with her cooch in the face of her opponent, snapping his neck. Funny, I don't see any of the guys with moves like that. Now Kitana can do some bad ass things with her fans, but when all is said and done, she has freaking fans compared to the big ass sword SubZero got, or the crazy Freddy Krueger-esque Blades Baraka has.
She picked her weapon of choice, Scorpion, because she's wicked with that hook and pull move of his. Kitana is my bitch, even if she only has weakass fans. It was time to kick some roomie ass.
ROUND ONE.....FIGHT!
It seemed like she was barely trying. I was slicing her shit up with those fans like no ones business and had her down to only a fourth of her health, hahaha. Mortal Combat is my game, I'll make anyone my bitch and beg for mercy. I noticed she was pushing buttons like mad, I thought she was in the middle of panicking and was trying anything to stop the major ass whipping that her guy was taking. She got me on a lucky combo and knocked my girl down, then as I was getting up she tried that hook "Get Over HERE" shit but I saw it coming and easily dodge it. Her guy then did this crazy flame thing and burnt my ass up, ok ok, another lucky hit. So I went in for the kill. I went to flip her guy and then do a roundhouse but then she pulls out this badass flame attack that took my health from almost full to halfway down. What was that about?? I looked over and she just gave me this shit eating, a grin that started a faint sliver of doubt in my head about the outcome of this little match I had been so sure of moments ago. A quick 4 hit combo and Kitana was beat! Wait what?? I was winning what the hell was going on here?
ROUND 2...... FIGHT!
It was on, the kid gloves were off and I was pulling out every combo I knew but she was blocking them! I was starting to sweat, yes sweat, fuck this was beyond glistening. I was trying to slice her guy with my fans but she seemed to know exactly what I was gonna do and had a counter all ready. Before I knew it she had whooped my ass proper. Not content with just being a good sport about it all she had to get up and dance around the livingroom, celebrating her victory.
Ok that was it, time to get my guy, SubZero. Oh hells yeah, no one can beat me with SubZero. Many had tried, all had failed.
ROUND 1....FIGHT!
She was still using Scorpion and was all over me like a cheap polyester suit, but I iced her ass and delivered a fierce uppercut that her little virtual killer would still be feeling next week. Then I unleashed a branch style combo that there was no way she was getting away from. The round was over and I had barely a scratch on me. Now that will teach her to get all uppity on me. She made a "humphf" kinda sound and stared straight at the TV. I mean while felt the need to shout quite loudly, "Now who's a bitch?" Now to be fair, she started the shit talking, I was just reacting to her overtly excited reaction to kicking my ass last match.
ROUND 2.....FIGHT!
I turned my hat around because it was kill time. I was gonna hit her with a combo she couldn't get out of and then do my oh so cool fatality move. That was the plan at least until she start pulling all these specials on me that I could avoid. I would try to ice her and she was already flaming my ass. I went to give her another uppercut, she hooked my ass and punched my guy halfway across the screen. I was getting up when she pulled the shit again and then before I knew it the round was over. OH HELL NO!! This was unacceptable.
ROUND 3....FIGHT!
Last round, last chance, my reputation was on the line. I couldn't believe it had come to this, a third, tie breaker round. What was that about?? I iced her right off but then I made a fatal flaw, I left myself open for the shadow kick and she kept doing it, over and over. I could only angrily mash at the button trying to break the combo but it was too late. I could only watch in awe and horror as she unleashed this mega 15 hit combo on my ass and I saw the dreaded words:
NO!!! NO!!! FUCK!!!! NOOOOOO!!!! DAMMIT!
The Bitch burned me up, crisper than bacon. Disclaimer: the above pic os not of my guy actually getting killed by her because I couldn't find an image of that, googol let me down. But it is pretty damn close to what happened to SubZero. So of course my roomie being the mature person she is has to do a freakin victory lap around the livingroom and be all like, "IN YOUR FACE!!!!!!!". Then after calming down a bit she offers up "It's only because I have been playing this all day everyday for the last two weeks, I have nothing else to do all day." Have I mentioned my roommate doesn't work? Yeah, so doesn't she has all the time in the day to play video games.
I decided that being a good sport was only the classy thing to do, so I said to her, "Right on, but while you can only sit here and play video games all day and night, I'm going to the bar because I'm not unemployed and broke. " And off to the bar I did go but that's a post all on it's own.
I don't know why I always pick the chick fighters. I would like to think it's because I'm all about girl power and all that but I think the truth lies closer to the fact I find it incredibly hilarious that they have these gargantuan boobies and barely any kind of outfits on. And the moves they have some of these girls make! Sonya has this move in Mortal Combat Deception where she does this scissor kick thing but ends up with her cooch in the face of her opponent, snapping his neck. Funny, I don't see any of the guys with moves like that. Now Kitana can do some bad ass things with her fans, but when all is said and done, she has freaking fans compared to the big ass sword SubZero got, or the crazy Freddy Krueger-esque Blades Baraka has.
She picked her weapon of choice, Scorpion, because she's wicked with that hook and pull move of his. Kitana is my bitch, even if she only has weakass fans. It was time to kick some roomie ass.
ROUND ONE.....FIGHT!
It seemed like she was barely trying. I was slicing her shit up with those fans like no ones business and had her down to only a fourth of her health, hahaha. Mortal Combat is my game, I'll make anyone my bitch and beg for mercy. I noticed she was pushing buttons like mad, I thought she was in the middle of panicking and was trying anything to stop the major ass whipping that her guy was taking. She got me on a lucky combo and knocked my girl down, then as I was getting up she tried that hook "Get Over HERE" shit but I saw it coming and easily dodge it. Her guy then did this crazy flame thing and burnt my ass up, ok ok, another lucky hit. So I went in for the kill. I went to flip her guy and then do a roundhouse but then she pulls out this badass flame attack that took my health from almost full to halfway down. What was that about?? I looked over and she just gave me this shit eating, a grin that started a faint sliver of doubt in my head about the outcome of this little match I had been so sure of moments ago. A quick 4 hit combo and Kitana was beat! Wait what?? I was winning what the hell was going on here?
ROUND 2...... FIGHT!
It was on, the kid gloves were off and I was pulling out every combo I knew but she was blocking them! I was starting to sweat, yes sweat, fuck this was beyond glistening. I was trying to slice her guy with my fans but she seemed to know exactly what I was gonna do and had a counter all ready. Before I knew it she had whooped my ass proper. Not content with just being a good sport about it all she had to get up and dance around the livingroom, celebrating her victory.
Ok that was it, time to get my guy, SubZero. Oh hells yeah, no one can beat me with SubZero. Many had tried, all had failed.
ROUND 1....FIGHT!
She was still using Scorpion and was all over me like a cheap polyester suit, but I iced her ass and delivered a fierce uppercut that her little virtual killer would still be feeling next week. Then I unleashed a branch style combo that there was no way she was getting away from. The round was over and I had barely a scratch on me. Now that will teach her to get all uppity on me. She made a "humphf" kinda sound and stared straight at the TV. I mean while felt the need to shout quite loudly, "Now who's a bitch?" Now to be fair, she started the shit talking, I was just reacting to her overtly excited reaction to kicking my ass last match.
ROUND 2.....FIGHT!
I turned my hat around because it was kill time. I was gonna hit her with a combo she couldn't get out of and then do my oh so cool fatality move. That was the plan at least until she start pulling all these specials on me that I could avoid. I would try to ice her and she was already flaming my ass. I went to give her another uppercut, she hooked my ass and punched my guy halfway across the screen. I was getting up when she pulled the shit again and then before I knew it the round was over. OH HELL NO!! This was unacceptable.
ROUND 3....FIGHT!
Last round, last chance, my reputation was on the line. I couldn't believe it had come to this, a third, tie breaker round. What was that about?? I iced her right off but then I made a fatal flaw, I left myself open for the shadow kick and she kept doing it, over and over. I could only angrily mash at the button trying to break the combo but it was too late. I could only watch in awe and horror as she unleashed this mega 15 hit combo on my ass and I saw the dreaded words:
NO!!! NO!!! FUCK!!!! NOOOOOO!!!! DAMMIT!The Bitch burned me up, crisper than bacon. Disclaimer: the above pic os not of my guy actually getting killed by her because I couldn't find an image of that, googol let me down. But it is pretty damn close to what happened to SubZero. So of course my roomie being the mature person she is has to do a freakin victory lap around the livingroom and be all like, "IN YOUR FACE!!!!!!!". Then after calming down a bit she offers up "It's only because I have been playing this all day everyday for the last two weeks, I have nothing else to do all day." Have I mentioned my roommate doesn't work? Yeah, so doesn't she has all the time in the day to play video games.I decided that being a good sport was only the classy thing to do, so I said to her, "Right on, but while you can only sit here and play video games all day and night, I'm going to the bar because I'm not unemployed and broke. " And off to the bar I did go but that's a post all on it's own.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Dreams and Alarms
Dictionary.com Word of the Day - imbroglio: a complicated and embarrassing state of things.
That pretty much describes the dream I had last night. A little background so you aren't yawning all the way through this. I know how interesting other people's dreams can be, about as interesting as looking at the 50th picture of Maury, the cat belonging to the lonely receptionist down in accounting. With that being said, I'm still gonna share with you. But the background first.
Ok there's this girl, (don't all tragic stories always start with this line or something very close to it?) who told me she loved me, wanted to be with, wanted to have a future with me. Considering I grew to feel the same, so far so good. She has a 3 year old child, ok I like kids so that's fine, still in the goodness category. She has an ex, ok everyone does so no big deal. That she still lives with and is the father of her child, um ok ok ok, it's a good way to work on my trust issues, it's not the best but not the worst situation.... Who isn't so much an ex really but they don't have a physical relationship even though they do still sleep in the same bed, ok alright seriously this is dangerously close to completely popping my bubble of self delusions of future happiness with this girl. And he just bought a house for the three of them to live in, which she is totally excited about...... **POP**
OK, she still says she loves me and such but it just doesn't have the same feeling behind it. I miss that feeling but what can you do? It is what it is. So here's the dream I had last night. I'll use a funky cool different font and stuff to show the difference in dream mode
I have this notebook and I'm trying to write a letter to her, like I get half way done it's to the affect of.. "Dear (Insert her name here), I hate this pen I'm holding because I should be holding you. I hate this paper under my hand because it isn't you. If you want to burn this letter, do it. You could burn the whole world down. You could tell me to go to hell, I'd go if you wanted me to. And I'd send you a letter from there." I can totally see the words including me scribbling out little bits here and there. Then starting over on another page until I have the whole notebook filled up with drafts of this letter that I can't finish, I can't find a way to finish. Some how I end up at her new house but it's not the real new house it's a different house but I know it's her new one, if that makes sense. And I want to show her this notebook, I want her to read it and see how hard I tried to find the words. I want her to react to it somehow. She tells me to hangout in this room that's like a playroom and her brother is there playing video games, but I don't want to play, I really want her to read this notebook and my words, it's like this uncontrollable urge, like everything will become clear and better if she will just read it.
So I walk upstairs and her boyfriend is there with her and they are showing the new house off to these people I don't know but no one notices I'm there. I remember that the walls of the kitchen where like little colored glass cubes and every few were like open and some had candles in them, it was really cool looking. Then she seemed to notice me and told me to go wait out in the backyard. The backyard was huge and had this fence but for some reason I could only go in this little area and I kept getting wet. I couldn't tell from where or how at first because it was dark out but then there was this light, like a halogen light from the street that showed this sprinkler. So everytime it came back down it would hit me. So I went back inside. I was in this other room that I hadn't been in before and she came in and I asked her to give me a tour of the house and she told me no and asked why I was back inside and I told her because the sprinkler kept hitting me and I couldn't get away from it. Then I tried to give her the notebook. She took me by the arm and told me we could talk outside, that we couldn't talk in there. So we went to this different part of her backyard and there was a patio table so we sat down and I opened the notebook and showed her all the pages of the rough draft I had been trying to write to her and I was trying to explain how hard I had worked on it and how important to me it was that she understood and got it. I was feeling really frustrated and discouraged but I knew if she read it and got it everything would be ok. She looked at me and took the notebook and started looking at it... Then of course my alarm started going off and I was kind of still in the dream and hearing my alarm at the same time.. So there was just this sense of urgency but of course I woke up before I got her reaction.
Stupid alarm clock.....
That pretty much describes the dream I had last night. A little background so you aren't yawning all the way through this. I know how interesting other people's dreams can be, about as interesting as looking at the 50th picture of Maury, the cat belonging to the lonely receptionist down in accounting. With that being said, I'm still gonna share with you. But the background first.
Ok there's this girl, (don't all tragic stories always start with this line or something very close to it?) who told me she loved me, wanted to be with, wanted to have a future with me. Considering I grew to feel the same, so far so good. She has a 3 year old child, ok I like kids so that's fine, still in the goodness category. She has an ex, ok everyone does so no big deal. That she still lives with and is the father of her child, um ok ok ok, it's a good way to work on my trust issues, it's not the best but not the worst situation.... Who isn't so much an ex really but they don't have a physical relationship even though they do still sleep in the same bed, ok alright seriously this is dangerously close to completely popping my bubble of self delusions of future happiness with this girl. And he just bought a house for the three of them to live in, which she is totally excited about...... **POP**
OK, she still says she loves me and such but it just doesn't have the same feeling behind it. I miss that feeling but what can you do? It is what it is. So here's the dream I had last night. I'll use a funky cool different font and stuff to show the difference in dream mode
I have this notebook and I'm trying to write a letter to her, like I get half way done it's to the affect of.. "Dear (Insert her name here), I hate this pen I'm holding because I should be holding you. I hate this paper under my hand because it isn't you. If you want to burn this letter, do it. You could burn the whole world down. You could tell me to go to hell, I'd go if you wanted me to. And I'd send you a letter from there." I can totally see the words including me scribbling out little bits here and there. Then starting over on another page until I have the whole notebook filled up with drafts of this letter that I can't finish, I can't find a way to finish. Some how I end up at her new house but it's not the real new house it's a different house but I know it's her new one, if that makes sense. And I want to show her this notebook, I want her to read it and see how hard I tried to find the words. I want her to react to it somehow. She tells me to hangout in this room that's like a playroom and her brother is there playing video games, but I don't want to play, I really want her to read this notebook and my words, it's like this uncontrollable urge, like everything will become clear and better if she will just read it.
So I walk upstairs and her boyfriend is there with her and they are showing the new house off to these people I don't know but no one notices I'm there. I remember that the walls of the kitchen where like little colored glass cubes and every few were like open and some had candles in them, it was really cool looking. Then she seemed to notice me and told me to go wait out in the backyard. The backyard was huge and had this fence but for some reason I could only go in this little area and I kept getting wet. I couldn't tell from where or how at first because it was dark out but then there was this light, like a halogen light from the street that showed this sprinkler. So everytime it came back down it would hit me. So I went back inside. I was in this other room that I hadn't been in before and she came in and I asked her to give me a tour of the house and she told me no and asked why I was back inside and I told her because the sprinkler kept hitting me and I couldn't get away from it. Then I tried to give her the notebook. She took me by the arm and told me we could talk outside, that we couldn't talk in there. So we went to this different part of her backyard and there was a patio table so we sat down and I opened the notebook and showed her all the pages of the rough draft I had been trying to write to her and I was trying to explain how hard I had worked on it and how important to me it was that she understood and got it. I was feeling really frustrated and discouraged but I knew if she read it and got it everything would be ok. She looked at me and took the notebook and started looking at it... Then of course my alarm started going off and I was kind of still in the dream and hearing my alarm at the same time.. So there was just this sense of urgency but of course I woke up before I got her reaction.
Stupid alarm clock.....
This is the One I Want
I completely stole this from a friends page because it so hit home with me and what I want in a partner and life.
The Invitation
by
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
My Hair, My Heartbreak
I am having a big hair day, yes it's true, this freaking heat and humidity have turn my usually very well behaved and cute hair into a kinda frizzy mess that won't do anything. Hence the big, bad hair day. It's amazing with all the different products I have that I can't find one that will make my hair at least semi cute.
I took a shower before work today like usual and as usual, I grabbed my BedHead Roughed Up and squeezed the recommended amount plus a little into my hand. As I was running it through my hair, I use that to give it a bit of texture and that, um, roughed up look. I then applied a bit of Got2BinControl that usually makes it all stay in place and finally I added just a little bit of BedHead Shine because I don't like the over product look with overtly stiff hair so that tends to not make it too stiff and all nice and shiny. So, depending on how long my hair is or the look I'm going for the product changes but that's the standard gotta get to work on time routine. My hair was looking ok in the bathroom but then I walked out into the livingroom and I swear within 10 minutes it was all kinda poofy and frizzy. Ok I have this thing about my hair being frizzy even a little bit. So after looking at my poor hair in horror in the mirror for a minute or two I checked the time and decide I had enough time to wash it out and start over. This time I broke out the big guns: the Got2B Glued, BedHead Rewind and to keep it from frizzing, Got2BDefiant. Convinced that there was no way it was gonna frizz or even move much for the rest of the day I headed off to work in a self induced delusion of having a good hair day.
I was halfway to work when I got my first inkling that maybe all was not as well as I had hoped with my hair. It was hot, really hot and I was a little sweaty considering the Stealth has no AC. Ok wait I don't think girls sweat, I think we glisten, so I was really glistening, not unlike one of Madonna's back up dancers after 5 songs. I went to wipe my forehead to get rid of a bit of the glistening that was threatening to drip into my eye because I have had that experience before and let me tell you, it's not fun while driving. It stings with all that product mixed with the salty goodness of um, glistening(?). It's worse than that pepper spray I got in the eyes that one time I thought it would be funny to hide in my cousins house until he got home one night and scare the fuck out of him, yeah that didn't turn out so well. But I digress. Just know that having that much product mixed with sweat and getting it in your eye while driving is the equivalent to trying to drive while you have a rabid squirrel trying to gouge out your eyes. At least that's how it feels.
Anywho, I glanced up at the rearview mirror and noticed that my hair was starting to look a little limp in the front and a little frizzy on the sides. OK, not to panic, I can fix it up with a little bit of water when I get to work I naively told myself. I got to work 15 minutes early and said a quick hello as I made a beeline for the bathroom before anyone could see the state that my hair was in. By this point the front had gone limp like overcooked angelhair pasta noodles and the sides looked like Bozo's hairstylist had gotten to them. I ran a bit of water through it right quick but it was too much water so now instead of the usual Bedhead messy look I sported, I looked like a drowned rat. Ok, ok, dont' panic, I told myself, think quick, I ran my hands through it at least a few dozen times but it was no use, it refused to look anything even remotely cute. The sides wouldn't push forward, they laid there like a useless roommate on the couch. The top was no long being limp, oh no, it had decided to go all horribly frizzy like the kinda of frizz you see someone with after a really bad home perm went wrong. If I could have left right then and there, I would have but as great of a company as I work for they have yet to recognize a bad hair day as a reasonable option for calling in or going home. So I had to stay there and tough it out for the day. I knew I should have gotten a hair cut this weekend. Bad hair truly breaks my heart.
I took a shower before work today like usual and as usual, I grabbed my BedHead Roughed Up and squeezed the recommended amount plus a little into my hand. As I was running it through my hair, I use that to give it a bit of texture and that, um, roughed up look. I then applied a bit of Got2BinControl that usually makes it all stay in place and finally I added just a little bit of BedHead Shine because I don't like the over product look with overtly stiff hair so that tends to not make it too stiff and all nice and shiny. So, depending on how long my hair is or the look I'm going for the product changes but that's the standard gotta get to work on time routine. My hair was looking ok in the bathroom but then I walked out into the livingroom and I swear within 10 minutes it was all kinda poofy and frizzy. Ok I have this thing about my hair being frizzy even a little bit. So after looking at my poor hair in horror in the mirror for a minute or two I checked the time and decide I had enough time to wash it out and start over. This time I broke out the big guns: the Got2B Glued, BedHead Rewind and to keep it from frizzing, Got2BDefiant. Convinced that there was no way it was gonna frizz or even move much for the rest of the day I headed off to work in a self induced delusion of having a good hair day.
I was halfway to work when I got my first inkling that maybe all was not as well as I had hoped with my hair. It was hot, really hot and I was a little sweaty considering the Stealth has no AC. Ok wait I don't think girls sweat, I think we glisten, so I was really glistening, not unlike one of Madonna's back up dancers after 5 songs. I went to wipe my forehead to get rid of a bit of the glistening that was threatening to drip into my eye because I have had that experience before and let me tell you, it's not fun while driving. It stings with all that product mixed with the salty goodness of um, glistening(?). It's worse than that pepper spray I got in the eyes that one time I thought it would be funny to hide in my cousins house until he got home one night and scare the fuck out of him, yeah that didn't turn out so well. But I digress. Just know that having that much product mixed with sweat and getting it in your eye while driving is the equivalent to trying to drive while you have a rabid squirrel trying to gouge out your eyes. At least that's how it feels.
Anywho, I glanced up at the rearview mirror and noticed that my hair was starting to look a little limp in the front and a little frizzy on the sides. OK, not to panic, I can fix it up with a little bit of water when I get to work I naively told myself. I got to work 15 minutes early and said a quick hello as I made a beeline for the bathroom before anyone could see the state that my hair was in. By this point the front had gone limp like overcooked angelhair pasta noodles and the sides looked like Bozo's hairstylist had gotten to them. I ran a bit of water through it right quick but it was too much water so now instead of the usual Bedhead messy look I sported, I looked like a drowned rat. Ok, ok, dont' panic, I told myself, think quick, I ran my hands through it at least a few dozen times but it was no use, it refused to look anything even remotely cute. The sides wouldn't push forward, they laid there like a useless roommate on the couch. The top was no long being limp, oh no, it had decided to go all horribly frizzy like the kinda of frizz you see someone with after a really bad home perm went wrong. If I could have left right then and there, I would have but as great of a company as I work for they have yet to recognize a bad hair day as a reasonable option for calling in or going home. So I had to stay there and tough it out for the day. I knew I should have gotten a hair cut this weekend. Bad hair truly breaks my heart.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
In The Beginning
I moved into my trailer 3 years ago. I moved in with the girl I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Or rather I felt like I was going to be stuck with for the rest of my life. Don't get my wrong I loved her but even before we started our little upward mobility from the ranks of renters to homeowners, (be it mobile home owners, we were home owners none the less), I was having serious doubts about the longevity of our relationship. I did love her to be sure but it had become the type of complacent love that comes with just giving in rather than fighting it. I had also just stopped fighting with her totally over every little thing. It was easier to just say, ok, whatever and move on because she would always throw in my face how she had moved over 2000 miles from her family to be with me and I couldn't very well argue with that logic. Well I could, I would point out it was her choice and then she would get pensive for a bit and then within the hour start telling me how I was everything she had and how without me she had nothing. That put major pressure on me to say the least. I mean I didn't want to be the end all and be all in her life. She didn't work, I supported us, she didn't have friends because she didn't feel like being social, she didn't like my friends coming over because they would point out what a fucking hermit I had become and give her pointed looks. I was feeling like I was trapped, I did love her but it all became to much, I couldn't go out without a fight, I couldn't go to my sisters to hang out with the kids without a fight, I couldn't DJ without a fight, I couldn't do anything unless it involved her and then it had to be something not too social and it couldn't take her away from our apartment for too long.
Pretty Soon there came a time where as try as I might, I couldn't support us both. I worked my ass off and it still wasn't enough. I had to lay down the law, little did I know that I was setting into motion events that would ultimately change both our lives forever. Some for the good, some for the bad but change was about to come crashing into our lives with the force of an F4 tornado.
At first the changes where subtle, my normally antisocial girlfriend was meeting people and making friends at the mall where she had gotten a job. But then I noticed a few odd things, my girlfriend who was normally all over me and all about me was paying me less and less attention. It took me a while to notice because I was enjoying my new found freedom, thinking that she had realized that a social life was needed for harmony in the home. For the first time in almost 2 years I was able to go out with my friends without a fight. I was able to have my friends over without her acting all upset the whole time. But other aspects of our life that we had never had any problems in started to rapidly decline. All of a sudden she was always too tired at night to do anything, even cuddle. Hmm, it didn't take spidey sense to figure out that something was amiss.
One day work was quite slow so they let some of us leave a few hours early. I thought it would a great time to surprise my girlfriend at work and take her out for dinner seeing as we hadn't been able to spend much quality time together. Well imagine my surprise when I went up to the kiosk she was working at to find that she hadn't worked there in a few days and then imagine my further surprise when it was revealed to me that the friend, Sherry, she said she was spending all her time with told me that her and my girl hardly ever hung out. And then just imagine a bit more my jaw dropping to the floor as she told me that my girl had told everyone we had broken up and was currently dating some guy at the mall.
Now us breaking up was news to me, granted things had changed a bit since she had started working. But still, she told me everyday as I was leaving for work she loved me and actually had just gotten mad at me the morning before for not waking her to give her a kiss good bye. And now I had this girl telling me that my girl was going around the mall telling everyone we had broken up months ago?!?!?!
Now I will gloss over all the gory details that followed, the confrontation, the denial, the tears, the cheating, the back and forth my girl put me through for the next few months. Long story short, I caught them together, she took off for a couple weeks, robbed our trailer while I was at work, then came back and apologized, then left again and moved out, then started cheating on him with me, only to have him find out so she moved back in with me, but by that time it was too late. I couldn't even look at her without feeling completely betrayed. So when she finally moved back to Seattle, taking her boyfriend with her, I was happy beyond belief. She might have taken most the dvd's, cd's, the new TV, PS2, new DVD player, a lot of my PS2 games, our puppy Rocco and for some strange and unknown reason my favorite hoodie. But she left behind the most random things that should have meant something to her, like her photo albums that she had brought with her from Seattle.
Anyways, she got a lot of the good stuff, even things that I had before i even met her and I got the trailer. Along with the trailer I also got a weird assortment of neighbors, crazy past due bills and a dishwasher that doesn't seem to work right all the time. So while it pretty much represents failed dreams and rough starts, it's home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
