The Night Romance Died.

One of my college chums had been on my case to get in touch with a friend of his from school. Brandi and I both went to UW and shared a lot of the same friends, but we never met in college. I was excited to meet and hang out with someone new since my social life has been shit since Leo left.

Via text messaging, Brandi told me that she was with a friend down at a bar called Happy Endings (I swear that's the actual name) which is in the heart of Hollywood's bar scene. I texted back, "I'm on my way".

Not surprisingly, the bar was packed with 20-somethings; all young, all beautiful, all looking to "get their drink on". I greeted Brandi with a hug and shook the hand of her friend Chase. Brandi and Chase were already 3 sheets to the wind (I hate playing catch up), but extremely nice and welcoming. I bought a round of drinks for all 3 of us and Brandi and I talked about the friends we both had in common.

As the night continued and the drinks continued to flow, Chase was constantly trying to pull Brandi on his lap. She'd playfully pull away and push his hand aside. This exchange had to have happened probably 15 + times during the entire evening. I got the feeling that Chase had been working on her for awhile now.

Meanwhile, this other guy with the absolute worst British accent ever, kept whispering in Brandi's ear. It was so obvious that it was fake. "Why was this guy trying to speak with a British accent?", I thought to myself. And then it hit me, "Holy shit. This is a fucking ploy to pick up girls who love foreign men with accents".

"She has great tits, eh?"

I spun around in my seat and was eye to eye with the impostor.

So@24: How can you tell? She's wearing a tshirt and a hoodie.
Impostor: Oh, I can tell. They are magnificent. ... You aren't banging her are you?
So@24: No. I just met her tonight. She's a friend of a friend.
Impostor: Too bad.

That's it, fucker.

So@24: Wait, before you go. Come on, the gig is up. You clearly aren't British.
Impostor: Yes I am.
So@24: Come on, dude.
Impostor: Alright, alright. Fuck, I was hoping it wasn't obvious. Girls LOVE it though, I'm telling you. I do it all the time, you should try it.

I turned my back to the guy looked around the bar as I swirled the last few, warm gulps around in my pint. Ever since I had walked in, there was this one short, arrogant-looking guy making his rounds. And always, two steps behind him, was his more attractive girlfriend (always happens that way doesn't it?). He barely acknowledged her, but you knew that they were together. What was with this submissive shit? It bugged me.

I went and grabbed a seat next to Chase and Brandi. Chase was now blatantly "honking" Brandi's boobs. Brandi laughed it off and told him over and over to stop "grabbing her tits". I cringed. Girls calling their own boobs "tits" has always weirded me out.

It was time for me to go. I paid my tab and told Brandi and Chase to hit me up the next time they went out.

Outside, a girl in a tight dress and heels shivered next to me as we waited for the crossing signal to change. When it finally changed, we both started to cross. An expensive looking BMW waiting at the light rolled down its window, "Yeeeeah, girl! What are you doing tonight?" She continued to cross without paying any attention to the cat calls.

BMW Douchebags: Hey! Is that your girl?

I shook my head.

BMW Douchebags: Well, fuck! You gonna get up in that? Ow! Ow!

I took a page from this girl's book and ignored them. I felt terrible for the girl, she obviously heard everything these drunk bastards were hollering.

* * *

As I drove home, I reflected about my evening in Hollywood. Maybe I was just in one of those moods where I get hypersensitive about the little things. Where I nitpick the things that I normally wouldn't think twice about.

But goddammit, the guys I was surrounded by tonight were the guys that I'm ultimately competing with, right? This is the pool that girls in this town are choosing from? Is this what quality girls like Lynn, or Violet or any of my other girl friends are going to settle with when finally they throw up their arms in exhaustion and say, "Well, he's not that bad... he only made two fart jokes." Or is this just something that you have to come to accept as a social norm for this age?

I'm far from the type who only has his horse blinders on for pure romance. I'm not the guy who won't settle until I find "the one". I know it's not all butterflies and sonnets. I don't necessarily want butterflies and sonnets. At least, I don't have to have that now.

But it can't be what I witnessed tonight. Maybe I was just getting forced fed it all too much too soon.

My car radio was tuned into the local oldies station. Ray Charles "Georgia on my Mind" faded in. I gave Ray the benefit of the doubt for a few seconds before I turned him off.

It just didn't seem right to be listening to a song like that on a night like this.

The Ex, Her Mom, and Me.

My cellphone woke me up at 9:30am on the dot and as I was shutting off the alarm, I read the text from my ex-girlfriend's mom, Andy:

"you on your way, young man?"

Indeed I was. I got into my car and headed south to spend a day with my ex-girlfriend and her mother. I have hung out with Lynn. And I have spent time with Andy. But never at the same time since the break up, almost two years ago ago.

When Lynn's car pulled up, Andy stepped out with a smile on her face.

"Hello, Mr. Frog."

A playful nickname she had give me back when I was in high school on account of my wide feet.

She walked around the car and gave me a hug. I hugged Lynn and she lead me into her new apartment.

Andy had driven down in a U Haul to bring Lynn all of her things. The living room was cluttered with plastic bins and boxes. 8 potted plants sat on the floor. Andy had packed some things for me to move into my new place as well as potting 4 plants for me.

We spent most of the afternoon lounging around the apartment talking until Lynn suggested we go to Ikea to look for more things for her move.

Andy, Lynn and I strolled down the aisles looking at things that Lynn might need. Andy kept insisting to buy me things for my new place and after telling her 100 times, "No, I'm fine! I promise! You've brought me too many things already", I eventually gave in and let her buy me a lamp and a snazzy cheese grater. With certain people, you learn it's just better not to fight these things.

I must admit that a peculiar feeling washed over me as Lynn and I walked side by side picking out items at Ikea.

"Geeze," I thought. "if Lynn and I were still together and everything went according to plan... her and I would be picking out things for our place. Weird how things turn out."

I physically shook this thought out of my head when Lynn asked me to help her pick out curtains for her room.

After about an hour in Ikea, I could sense an all too familiar feeling. Lynn did/has a tendency to get a little "crabby" when she hasn't eaten for awhile or when she is stressed. She had a midterm the next day and I knew that she was feeling overwhelmed with a day fighting the crowds in Ikea and playing host.

I'll admit that there's this instinct that's difficult to shake off. This powerful urge to make her laugh. Back when we were dating, I'd just ignore her gripes... pull her in, give her a kiss on the forehead or crack a lame joke or simply place a hand on her back and she's instantly snap out of her funk.

But, that wasn't my job anymore. Not my obligation. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't.

So I didn't. I just kind of her let do her thing and tried to sway the conversation to something else. Instead, I made the suggestion we skip straight to the register and get something to eat. Andy and I exchanged a secret smile, because we both were used to handling Lynn in her crabby mood.

We grabbed a meal at a bar/restaurant combo and being in Costa Mesa, the place was crawling with cookie-cutter girls who all looked the same. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and weaving in between tables, I gave quick glances at the girls I was surrounded by. Might as well have been paper chain figures.


Making my way back from the bathrooms, I quickly tapped our waiter and passed him my credit card. I knew that Andy would put up a fight to pay the bill.

I sat back down at the table and placed my napkin across my lap. Lynn flashed me a smile. It's difficult to really explain how frustrating it is to think that your ex is still the prettiest girl.

The check came (already paid) and Andy was a little upset at my trickery. But I smiled and told her that we were even for all the stuff she bought for me earlier.

After dinner we spent a few more hours back at Lynn's apartment chatting, there was never an awkward moment... it was just like old times. But eventually I had to head back for work the next day. Lynn and Andy helped me load my car with my new treats. I hugged Andy and promised I would see her when I was back home for Christmas.

"Oh! I almost forgot! I have some more music to give you!"

Lynn came running back with a cd. I gave her a hug and climbed into my car. I immediately put in the mix she made for me.

* * *

Now this next part is for those readers who might read this blog for that insight for what it's like to start over again.

A song that came on the mix instantly sent a wave of shivers up my spine and by the end I was covered in goosebumps. I'll paste the YouTube link below as well as the lyrics. Keep the song on in a window and listen to it while you browse other things. I believe it's the perfect song to sum up this post and my feelings thus far.

I hope it does the same for those of you who are still in the thick of things.



And for my fellow lyric fiends who are like me and have to read while listening:

Relient K "Up and Up" Acoustic version

Yesterday was not quite what it could've been
As were most of all the days before
But I swear today, with every breath I'm breathing in
I'll be trying to make it so much more

'Cause it seems I get so hung up on the history of what's gone wrong
And the hope of a new day is sometimes hard to see
But I'm finally catching on to it, yeah, the past is just a conduit
And the light, there at the end is where I'll be

CHORUS
'Cause I'm on the up and up, I'm on the up and up
And I haven't given up, given up on what I know I'm capable of
Yeah, I'm on the up and up and yeah, there's nothing left to prove
'Cause I'm just trying to be a better version of me for you
A better version of me for you

Now I have all that I could ever need
The confidence of knowing there's still time.
Time to make amends and try to build a better me
And to take the right steps as this road unwinds

You see I'm finally catching onto it, the past is just a conduit
And the light at the end is where I'll be

CHORUS

Never cease to supply me with what I need for a good life
So when I'm down, I'll hold my head up high
'Cause you're the reason why, yeah, you're why

CHORUS

The Letter

A few month's ago my ex-girlfriend's (Lynn) mom Andy was hospitalized temporarily. I continued to talk to her on occasion, but I got the sense that she was bored or lonely; most likely a combination of both. "They don't let me do anything!" During one of our phone conversations I asked if she wanted to take on a project I had for her, if she was up to it.

I had a grocery bag FILLED with photographs, dating all the way back from freshman year of high school to when I first moved to Los Angeles. Unorganized, overwhelming, and I've been too lazy to ever put them in albums.

Andy offered to put them into albums for me, so I sent them to her.

The day I was moving, I had a package waiting for me on my porch. Opening the box, the smell of Lynn's house immediately bitch slapped me. I haven't smelt that in forever. It's like in the cartoons when the smell from the pie cooling on the windowsill turns into a hand and beckons to the cat which causes it to float a few inches from the ground.

There are somethings that you wait until you have time and privacy to check into. I usually wait until right before bed to open these things. I cracked open an album and started looking at Andy's work. The last album I came across was one almost entirely dedicated to Lynn and me. Pictures I haven't seen forever. Some pictures I have never seen before. It was extremely emotional, but when I was finished I closed it and had a moment for myself.

This blog has evolved into something else besides an outlet for me to express my emo thoughts about my failed relationship. But for those who still read it to get insight on "closure", the letter that my exgirlfriend's mother tucked away in the pages of last album was something that was extremely touching and insightful. Especially since Andy, herself, is NEVER a serious person and rarely addresses the more serious subjects of life.

Reading her letter, I could feel my eyes burn a bit and got that "throat chokey" feeling (the smell didn't help), but when I finished and closed the last leather bound album, I was smiling. I've posted it below for those who still need that insight:

8/23/08

Sweet boy,

Well, here they are. I hope you weren't in a hurry.

It's weird. It turned out to be very emotional. Just thinking of your life, my life, and Lynn's. Who would have ever known how all of our lives would go?

There was a certain period that I know was the best ever to me, but I know that it is not good to think of the past too much. I am slowly learning to look forward at all three of our lives.

Now maybe I can think positively and just watch you two and myself go ahead. For a long time, I couldn't do that. Now we both can, and we might even be really happy.

Lynn too.

I hope we can always stay in touch. I know I want to.

Love,
Andy

Deep Thoughts in my Undies

Sunday afternoon I did absolutely nothing. I was a fucking slug.

The house was empty; not a roommate to be seen. The summer sun was cooking my yellow skin to an even finer yellow. I was baking like a toasted cheeser.

I didn't bother to get dressed. I planted myself on the living room couch in my boxers and spent hours cruising through the entire series of Freaks and Geeks.

And I thought to myself:

This would be a lot more fun if there was a girl in a tank top and underwear combo sitting here sweating with me.

Faux Parenting

It might get a little sappy for a moment. And I understand that I'm risking chiseling away any piece of masculinity I might have left in your eyes.

A couple things may have triggered this next line of thought. One was an email from a reader I received on Friday evening:

Were you planning on marring Lynn while you guys dated?

Did she know you were thinking about it, did you guys talk about getting that serious?

And/or do you think that she pondered too long if you were going to ask her or not, e.g. did you guys get into any fights/ discussions about this topic?

The other trigger was a photograph I came across when I was Greco Roman wrestling with ginormous dust bunnies under my bed over the weekend.

First was the email about marriage to my ex. Of course, it was discussed and quite maturely, I must admit. We agreed that we would wait, because we weren't ignorant of the fact that 50% of marriages in the US ends in divorce and that each year you wait, you increase your chances of a successful marriage (ahhh, the joys of being a sociology major).

It was never something I was scared to discuss and I never got panicky about the idea. It was something I was looking forward to... eventually.

The picture I came across is one that was taken when Lynn and I took a little girl to the zoo. Lynn used to babysit a little girl occasionally, when the girl's parents would take trips to the mount and be gone for an entire weekend at the time. Her parents knew me well enough so they didn't mind me staying over. It didn't happen often; I probably did this about four times total.

I used to drive back home from college and I'd stay the weekend. The little girl was barely 2, so Lynn and I played with her, put her to sleep, fed, cleaned up vomit. I remember at night, being on pins and needles, waking up to the slightest sound coming from her nursery. I'd nudge Lynn awake, "Do we need to check on her?"
"No, she does this all the time. Stop worrying."

I'd be excited to wake her up in the morning and she'd hold my hand as we walked down the living room. I'd grab her a bowl of dry Cheerios and she'd sit next to me on the couch while we all watched cartoons together.

Truth is, I loved doing the faux-parent thing; even if it was just for a few weekends out of the year. This isn't to say that I'm anywhere close to being able to do it now. But at the time, I loved the idea that it was going to happen at sometime. And more specifically, with Lynn. We made a damn good team.

After I found that picture, I tucked it back into an album and took a shower to clean the dirt off from The Great Room Clean of 2008. I got to some deep thinking (tends to always happen when I take showers for some reason)...

Am I ever going to find someone who will get me that excited about marriage and having a family with?

It's hard to imagine. And of course, I know that I can be melodramatic about these things and being completely realistic, somewhere down the line, I will.

But I can't help but wonder.

The pic.

I Have a Holden Caulfield Night

Shortly after posting yesterday, I waited around for one of my favorite bars in LA to open up. As soon as seven o' clock came around, I grabbed a track jacket and made the trek.

The R Bar. In the middle of nowhere, yet within walking distance. They only let you in if you know the password of the night. The eye slot opens up like a speakeasy.

"What is the name of Johnny's karate team in The Karate Kid?"
"Cobra Kai."

I'm not quite sure where it comes from, but there are days when you just feel like being alone and grabbing a drink. Mostly when I have a lot on my mind. Things to mull over.


The R Bar is a diamond in the rough for a place like Los Angeles. The decor looks like the innards of some forgotten pirate ship. A great jukebox that plays The Decemberists and Weezer's Pinkerton.

It was only seven, so I grabbed some bar stool and start chit chatting with my new friend behind the bar.

Bartender: What'll it be, sweetheart?
So@24: Rum and coke please.
Bartender: I hope you're prepared for those the rest of the night. -wink-

Homegirl pours one of the stiffest drinks I've ever laid my lips on. My rum and coke looked like a watered down ice tea. Excellent!

I sat for a good while sipping my flame-inducing beverage. Alone with my thoughts. Just thinking about shit, you know?

I eventually pull out my cellphone and ask Beth a question that's been gnawing at my brains:

So@24's text: Why did you text me at 2:00 am last night asking me if I was "hooking up" with someone? Surely you jest.

Minutes later (which seem like hours) my phone vibrates on the bar.

Beth's text: I got really panicky for a second. You know how my mind works.
So@24's text: Something had to trigger that. You never worried/cared before.
Beth's text: If you're going to do it. Get it out while you still can.

It's not surprising that my quest to get answers from her left me with more confused with even more questions. I order another. I tell Bartender I'm going to make her a Decemberists mix the next time I come in.

It's kicking in.

I get a text from Leo a short while later.

Leo's text: Where are you?
So@24's text: R Bar. It's just me though so don't worry about it.
Leo's text: What the fuck!? Are you okay? I'm on my way.

Leo walks through the door and saddles up next to me. We shoot the shit for a little while before we both decide to grab some grub ("my treat", I slur). I haven't eaten anything all day and the rum is making my head spin. When I go to close out, I discover that Leo had put all my drinks on his tab when I was in the bathroom.

Damn. That's a good friend. He must have picked up on something. He's pretty good about that.



** Oh snaps! Look who got nominated for a blogging award!




----------------
Now playing: Decemberists - Eli, The Barrow Boy

My Ex Has Been Boned By Someone Other Than Me

It was inevitable. It had to happen at some point. I mean, she dated the guy for an entire year right?

I didn't force her to tell me. She didn't tell me in order to get some kind of jealous reaction out of me. It just. Happened.

Lynn: I need to get my jean hemmed, cause I've lost some weight
So@24: No way. You've lost weight? How is that possible?
Lynn: I'm off my birth control (cough)

Which kind of opened the doors to that discussion. I'll admit I had the ol' "sucker punch to the breadbasket feeling", but I had to find a way to go around that.

So I joked with her about it (which is what I do when shit gets too serious). And we switched subjects after admitting how awkward it was and that my body was sweating bullet for some reason. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, I guess.

It's a weird feeling so think about and I'm trying my best not to imagine my ex reverse cowgirling the shit out of this guy.

But I also know that I need to accept this if this is what it takes to really be "just friends" with someone. I need to grab this bull by the horns! I need to accept it and be "ok" with it. This is normal. Of course she was going to be with someone else eventually.

...

It didn't stop me from doing 4 sake bombs at lunch with coworkers though. And blogging drunk.

w00t!

How Do Fortune Cookies Always Know?

As a favor for picking her up from the airport, my friend treated me out to Thai food last night.

At the end of the meal they served fortune cookies. I cracked mine open expecting something along the lines of, "You are organized and thorough!" or something equally mundane.

To my surprise, I got a fortune that actually made me take a moment and sit back in my vinyl seat. I was impressed with the fortune telling skills of the Chinese:

Love can make a summer fly, or a night seem like a lifetime.

Damn that's good.

Open Bar Will Get You Street Cred

When GOOD magazine emailed me an invite to their annual anniversary party, I knew I was in for an eventful evening. Every year they throw a party at some random venue in Los Angeles. Subscribers get in for free ($20 for a year and 100% of the money goes to a charity of your choice... not bad!), drinks cost nothing, and there are plenty of attractive Los Angelites to observe.

This year's event happened to be at the Natural History Museum. An absolutely great place to have a party of this magnitude. I arrived with our usual entourage early enough and immediately B-line it to the open bar. Skyy Vodka. For free. I didn't complain. I was going to milk this bad boy for all it was worth.

It's a unique experience; throwing back vodka sodas while standing next to the remains of a giant mastodon. The party was very much what I expected and as Leo leaned over and whispered, "There are so many pretty girls here, yet for some reason... you feel like they are completely out of your league." I nodded in agreement as I took another long sip from my drink. Plenty of girls wearing their best cocktail attire (little black dresses, oh snaaaaaaaaaps).

But as the night wore on, the free drinks started to add up in my 5'3" frame and pretty soon I was convinced that mastodon was staring me down. And with each drink, I started to get a little more reflective (uh oh). At some point, I got separated from the herd and I suddenly had an epiphany. I'm going to walk home. I didn't bid my friends farewell, I just left.

As I stumbled down the stairs of the Natural History Museum, the dark clouds that had been forming all night started to rumble. I began my trek home at 12:00 in the morning. I usually pull out my cellphone immediately, but I think I wanted to just enjoy the silence for a moment. I'm not really sure why I decided to do this; maybe the thought of "our" supposed one-year anniversary is coming up in a few days. One year since the break up, seven years if we were still dating.

I didn't want to dwell on that for the entire walk, besides my head was spinning. I refused to go emo. So I forced myself to pull out my cell phone and make some calls to occupy my thoughts. These drunk dials didn't last very long, either no one was picking up their phones or they couldn't hear me because my cell was malfunctioning. The light sprinkle was now a full blown monsoon. I was absolutely drenched. Gel from my hair was running off my forehead and now causing a bitter taste in my mouth. I wore nothing more than jeans and a t-shirt, which I had to ring out every 5 mins. Puddles formed on the street corners that were at LEAST ankle-deep that were impossible to walk around. It was a pretty pathetic scene.

During the last third of my journey, I thought it was best to try and flag down a cab. I only saw one, but he must have not seen my arms flailing. I'm not surprised he didn't stop, I must have looked insane to be outside in the middle of the night during an LA rainstorm in gang territory. Oh, did I not mention that? I was walking in the stomping grounds of the Blood, Black P Stones, the Rollin 60's Crips, and the 18th Street Gang. I figured I was "ok" though; even gang bangers know better than to be outside in this weather. Besides, I was wearing neutral gang colors. I continued the rest of the pilgrimage switching off between walking and jogging.

An hour later, my hands were shaking due to me freezing my ass off as I tried to align my door keys with the key hole. I peeled off my waterlogged t-shirt and jeans, kicked off my soggy Chuck's and hopped in the shower.

Not one of the smartest things I've done while drunk.


Sidenote: I google-mapped my walk. 3 miles.

My Affair with Tylenol PM

I don't normally take long naps. The obvious reason being that I can't go to sleep later on in the evening. But yesterday I was exhausted and couldn't keep my eyelids open any longer. Waking up an hour and a half later, I knew I would need the help of my good friend Tylenol PM to give me that extra shove into Slumber Land.

I opened up the medicine cabinet and had myself a little moment while staring at the bottle. I thought back to when Leo bought it for me back in December. Sleep was close to impossible; my thoughts were focused only on Lynn and images of her and her new boyfriend. I remember staring at the ceiling pleading with myself to go to sleep. And when I finally was able to rest my mind, I would dream about her constantly.

Coming home from another day of work, I found a bottle of Tylenol PM sitting on the kitchen table with a sticky note attached.

Take two of these and see if you can even TRY to stay awake
- Leo

I popped two and within 20 mins found myself groggy and for the first time in weeks, looked forward to bed.

My tango with Tylenol PM was fairly consistent for the next couple months. I only took them when I really couldn't sleep. And then some random day I can't recall the exact date of, I didn't need them anymore.

It had been quite sometime since I shook hands with the sleep aid. I smiled to myself, tossed two down the hatch and guzzled some water. It's weird what objects can make you remember.

Taken From the Archives Pt. 3

It's been awhile since I have been on a long road trip. Everyone knows that when you take a road trip, one cant take for granted the power of a great mix cd. I would have loved to make a new mix, but my desktop from 1997 is whirring up a horrendous sound (the hamster running the wheel must be getting tuckered out) and I'm scared of my computer to be quite honest. So, before I made my 5 hour trek up to Stockton I blew the dust off my old Body Glove cd case and tossed it in the dusty Accord.

It's a unique feeling when you listen to a mix that was made years ago... it totally brings you back to that very specific time. I pulled out some classics and it was a lot of fun; and a great mix can almost makes you look forward to the long drive. However, I was running out of mixes and I still had 3 hours left. Flipping way in the back of the case was a teal, unmarked cd. I never have owned any blank teal cds, but there was one person who did... Lynn. I knew that whatever music that was on that cd would be songs that I would directly associate with her and me. Us.

I made a decision, I was going to take my music back. I found these songs first. I was the one who introduced them to her. These were MY songs.

I popped in the cd and just as I anticipated, a flood of memories came back to me: a trip to the beach, singing in the car around the hometown, driving down on the weekends from college. My stomach dropped after the first couple of songs and I chewed through my fingernails until I actually drew blood. I got through about 3 songs, skipped 4 and then ejected the cd. I dont think Im as over it as I thought I was. Underestimating the power of music & memory is a fragile thing. It'll be awhile before I play that mix again.

But I think it means something that I gave it a shot.

Rick: big ups for trying to reclaim and props for knowing when to stop

This American Life: Break-Up

Leo pointed me in the direction of the newest This American Life broadcast. It's pretty long and I've only had time to listen to the first 4 minutes, but it's pretty amazing.

I absolutely love this part... I love that they don't stop recording and they capture the long pauses. Listen carefully and you can hear her voice quiver a little bit when she says,

"That's the thing that's so weird. You put so much energy into something and then one day it's time to stop."

If you want to hear the entire broadcast, go here.

Emo Posting

*Warning: Emo Posting Below*

Random reminders will come up and bite you in the ass when you least expect it. I somehow got the inclination to go through and clean out my mailbox. That was the dumbest idea I've come up with. I stumble upon an email titled "Chin Up"... but it was sent from my old school email address, so naturally this sparked my curiosity:

I'm writing to remind you of how much I LOOOOOOOVE you and to make sure you're okay and not taking this dumb-ass class's rejection to heart.

You're always so hard on yourself... please don't take this personally or as a bad sign because it's not. Maybe you're just meant to come home and STAY WITH ME!? Your crabby girlfriend?? Hmmmm?

You have a ton of talent and SOON will find a way to work and be happy and creative and have fun and make money. Try not to put so much pressure on yourself to KNOW what you're going to do in the future, you're only 22. You're not a business man yet, don't worry.

So I hope you're feeling okay. I'm sorry I'm not there to distract you or take your mind off it... I care about you a TON and worry when/if you're sad.

Everything will be okay.

- Your L

Ahh... I remember why I sent that to myself. So I wouldn't forget it when I changed email addresses when I first opened my gmail account.

It makes you wonder though. Is she ever getting these reminders like I am and wondering what I'm doing at that very second? It's like the sniper from Saving Private Ryan puts a slug in me every single time I come across one of those things.

I refuse to let this ruin my weekend and try my best to ignore that fucking pit in my stomach.

*Post Script*

I totally just laid it down to this annoying coworker... not in the mood for cordial office banter:

(while I'm on the phone with an agent)
Annoying Coworker: I need Brian's number!
- I point to my headset to indicate that I'm on the phone -
Annoying Coworker: I need Brian's number!
- I point, again, to my headset-
Annoying Coworker: Hey! Hey! I need your help!
- I rip off my headset when the agent hangs up -
So@24: What!? What is it? I was on the phone with ----!
Annoying Coworker: I need Brian's number and email
So@24: Brian? Just Brian? Care to elaborate? Perhaps a little more information to indicate which Brian you're referring to?
Annoying Coworker: Oh yeah.

Yeah, maybe I was being an asshole. Fuck it.

Superbad

It's still hard to go see really funny movies sometimes.

I still want to call and tell her all the good parts.

An Emo Song, a Blunt, and a Peanutbutter & Jelly

Leo: dude, super sad song. I shouldn't let you listen to it. you'll go all emo.
So@24: what is it??
Leo: Some James Blunt.... pretty song. super sad.
So@24: Not listening to it.
Can't.
Won't.
Leo: good. you'd go all mushy. That hard veneer of yours hides those soft insides
So@24: Hahaha! I have a hard veneer?
Leo: yeah dude
So@24: everyone has their Achilles heel
Leo: I was you like 2 years ago. A veneer made hard by a pinch of bitterness, feelings of bamboozlement, and a lack of closure.... the insides were softer than yours 10 months out and I was still figuring my shit out. If I had listened to this James Blunt song then, I would've called her. now I just smoke weed and eat a PB & J.

Perils of Love

I totally forgot about this gem. It's such a perfect illustration of my old relationship.

Er... except for the ending, of course.

It's Going to Be One of Those, Huh?

2:48 am My cell phone vibrates on my footlocker.

"What the fuck?"

It's from a number I don't recognize and I answer it (with my best zombie impression).

Hol. Lee. Shit. It's Lynn. She wants to see how I'm doing and what I've been up to. I sit straight up and no amount of coffee could wake me up as much as I am now. My stomach is doing a million somersaults.

"Wow, why are you calling so late?"
"I dunno... I can't sleep I guess."

7:30 am Our conversation is cut short suddenly by a shitty midi of Weezer's Say It Ain't So. What the fuck?

It's my cell phone's alarm clock and it's time for me to throw on some wrinkled jeans and head to work. That entire sequence was a dream. Fucking dreams. I woke up swearing that was real. The problem is, you can't control them or what they are going to be about.

Talk about the shittiest way to start out a Monday. With a mouth full of toothpaste foam, I'm just laughing at my reflection in disbelief.

8:20 am I'm back in my driveway. I had to turn around and get my CD face.

8:22 am For some reason (probably when I was drunk), I took my house key off it's ring and left it inside. I'm locked out.

8:26 am I jimmy open our window and crawl in (hopefully no potential burglars saw my "secret entrance"). I find my CD face under a pile of clothes.

12:30 pm It's my job to pick up the company lunch order for the weekly Monday meeting. That's always sweet. I get all the way to Subway and I forget the company card. Still rattled by my dream this morning.

12:53 pm Back at Subway. Carrying 2 bags full of Subway. Waiting for the order, Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars comes over the outdoor mall's loudspeakers. You have got to be fucking kidding me. I have to walk across the entire mall with that song surrounding me.

1:10 pm I drop one of the bags accidentally. Sonofabitch. As I'm on all fours, scrambling to shove all the sandwiches back into the bags, I take a moment to look up at the sky and curse the Heavens.

6:06 pm I still have that depressing song stuck in my head.


It's going to be one of those.

Mt. Dew & Blink 182

It's weird what curve balls can be thrown at you at the most random moments. There are certain senses that can trigger your brain to pull up a library of very specific memories. Music and smell, especially. But rarely taste.

Battling Los Angeles traffic, I was suddenly struck with this intense thirst and only one drink would satisfy. Mountain Dew: Code Red. I have absolutely no idea where it came from. I haven't touched a Mountain Dew: Code Red since it's debut during my freshman year of college... and I used to guzzle it like it was going out of style.

Hitting the road with my 32 oz tucked between my legs, the radio played another song that brought on a wave of nostalgia to that very specific time. Blink 182's "The Rock Show". I almost dropped my red, bubbly beverage in complete shock. I wandered into some kind of time warp.

I was bitchslapped out of nowhere with this image: cruising through Vancouver in my black '97 Nissan pick up, windows rolled down because it was summer and the old Honey Wagon didn't have AC, taking sips and passing back & forth a bottle of Mt. Dew: Code Red, holding hands and singing along to "The Rock Show" with her.

It's weird what kind of curve balls get thrown at you.

Some Alone Time and POOL HUNNIES!

Despite my spoiled evening with the geriatrics, I still had consumed enough alcohol to kill a small army. I woke up Sunday morning bug-eyed and dehydrated... the wave of Los Angeles heat pouring through my window didn't help my pathetic situation. After chugging an entire Britta filter full of water in my polar bear boxers, I thought about what my Sunday would consist of.

Leo is over seas. My other roommate Kevin was with his girlfriend. Going back to sleep was out of the question. Anyone who's anyone knows that the best cure for a hangover is a large bowl of pho. I don't normally enjoy eating alone, but I'll do it under desperate circumstances.

After slurping down a steaming bowl, I had to think of something else to do to pass the time. Distraction is absolutely key in my current situation. Otherwise your mind wanders and you start reflecting on the past and pretty soon you find yourself wearing skinny black jeans, sporting hot pink accessories, and crooning along to Avril Lavigne's "My Happy Ending". Heading home, I remember that I've driven past a forgotten family arcade center down this particular street. I haven't been to one since my Wonderland Nickel Arcade days, so I make the executive decision of "what the fuck" and pull a U-turn.

Entering the Family Arcade was like taking a step back in time. Flashing lights. Annoying midis blaring from each machine. A disgruntled employee is really pissed that I am asking for a 10, a 5, and 5 ones. I shaved off a couple hours more from my afternoon plugging quarters into Metal Slug and various pinball machines. But a call from my friend Veronica reminds me that maybe I should be spending the afternoon with other human beings. She's soaking up rays by the pool at her apartment and asks me to join her and some of our other friends.

Because the pool is at an apartment, it's your typical family scene. Restless kids doing cannonballs inches away from your peaceful wade. A couple of fat guys, wearing matching farmer's tans are flipping burgers and dogs. A group of friends across from our group of friends are lathering up. And one of the girls is pretty damn cute. Pulling my shades up, I scan the pool area and there is no obvious sign of a boyfriend.

And I think to myself... what could I possibly do in this situation? What is the next logical step to show this girl I have any interest? I turn to Veronica and share my interest in the petite asian in the white sun dress.

"Go talk to her."
"Like what? What should I say? Tell me some words in the English language that I could string together and not sound like a complete moron? What if a random guy came up to you right this minute and was interested in getting to know you more? What could he say to you right now that would be acceptable?"
"... damn. Good point."

So, like any other normal guy, I just admired from a far. But I think I bring up a good question, what is the next move? We're not at a bar, so I can't even order a couple shots to inject myself with some confidence? Do people ask for numbers anymore? Even if I did "get her number", I wouldn't even know what to say when I finally got the balls to call. It's in the middle of afternoon and she's out with her friends. Most girls, I'm assuming, wouldn't even want to be bothered by some creepy poolside dude.

Something to think about, I suppose.

Unconscious Thoughts

At 8:45 this morning, an old lady made the decision to take a left turn on an unprotected green light.

Everything went into slow motion and the first thoughts in my head were "I am going to totally tbone this car. There's absolutely nothing I can do."

After my car spun around the intersection, the dust settled from both of my airbags being deployed, and I stared blankly ahead in a daze... my next thoughts were:

"What if I died just now? And I never got to see or speak to Lynn ever again?"