Hello, Asshole. Haven’t seen you in a while.

I've come to realize I'm starting to go back to being the intolerant man I have periodically been. I joke about being an asshole. But I really CAN be one. And I'm starting to feel myself moving close to that. On a side note, does this mean girls will now find me attractive? Haha.

Seriously, though, I've seen a lot of it recently. For instance, last night…

We were at my friend and his wife's new house and the usual suspects were there. I turned into a semi loner. I couldn't handle Jonathan or his kids. For completely different reasons. One of his boys is a spoiled brat. I can't stand that kid. He lies constantly. And Jonathan… Where do I begin?

You know, everyone in that group thinks he's knows a lot of things. We're all experts of whatever we saw on tv or read on the internet. We argue long and loudly all the time about something or another. But Jonathan… He has this slightly skewed sense of reality. And every time he has some "epiphany", I don't know if I should concentrate on not laughing in his face or try not to throw up. And when he comes up with his brilliant ideas or conclusions, he seems to think it's universal. And you HAVE to agree with him. If you don't, you're just in denial.

I spent last night avoiding him and the other friends because they all speak VERY loudly. They don't know how to talk with any sense of "normal" volume. And I just wasn't in the mood for it. The downside was that Steve's sisters were there and I came off as if I were trying to flirt with them. Not really. They're nice girls. And they're closer to my age. I've always gotten along better with girls, so I guess it was natural.

But not only Jonathan and his kids demonstrated my inability to demonstrate patience and tolerance. Heather's friend/co-worker was there. This guy seemed to dislike me for some reason (okay, he doesn't NEED a reason, I know). He was one of those, "well, actually…" kind of guys. You know, the one that thinks they know all about technical shit and thinks he's correcting you? Yeah, sounds like me. But I honestly think I don't come across as quite so condescending.

Fucker tried to "correct" me on a couple things. For instance, he tried to say that the iPhone already supported Exchange. Ummm, no. Not to the general public. That doesn't come out until the firmware update. Which is July 11^th.

Or, the one time when he asked Josh about their dSLR. I mentioned I had one too. He thought I had a Canon. When I mentioned that I had a Nikon, he condescendingly said, "I'm sorry." He may very well been joking. But then he followed it up with something along the lines of, "They suck." So I mentioned, "Funny, since they've beat Canon in most objective reviews every time…" Josh, who normally loves to argue with me, actually joined in and said he knew his mom, who is a pretty serious amateur photographer, said that the Nikon imaging is better. While that doesn't constitute a deciding vote, it definitely shut this guy up on that matter.

And the rest of the night, he kept making these kind of comments. That, and he was judgmental. And not only that, he seemed like he lacked some real-world social knowledge. It's like he'd never been around people who got drunk. Rick got hammered. And while Rick can be obnoxious or a dick when he's drunk, he wasn't too far out of line. But this guy turned to us and warily asked if he'd be okay to drive. It's so hard to describe.

I'm being a total dick, but he seemed like your typical nerdy/dorky IT administrator (which he is, by the way). I swear, he had the look and personality of your negatively thought of Dungeons and Dragons player that spends his free time trawling the internet looking for the coolest way to pimp out his Linux server.

While I am a geek myself, and love all things gadget-like, I humbly feel like I don't exude "dork". I love my Star Trek and can tell you all about dilithium crystals that power the various Enterprises, along with the phase buffer to the transporter array, to the various ship-classes of each of the Enterprises, I don't look like it. For a while, I was into Star Wars and I can tell you the backstory to all of the Expanded Universe characters. I watched Farscape and completely LOVED Firefly (ironically, I got it into it after it got cancelled). I can tell you, with confidence, all the events that happened in Stargate SG1 and Stargate Atlantis.

And yet, with all of this, I temper it with the fact that not everything in life is an analogy to some episode or movie from SciFi. I know that not everyone wants to know about how easy it is to re-image your hard drive and pull over a saved profile so that you can get back your system and all its preferences.

I have to admit, I was happy he left. In his defense, they said he was on a whole bunch of medications. But, generally, people in that profession, that social life and that personality, I doubt his rudeness was due to medication.

Let's be clear. We're all assholes (my friends). But we're not too bad with people we haven't met before. The derision and name calling doesn't start until we know you're not going to cry like a baby.

 

And tonight, I saw this guy who irritated the hell out of me. Wearing a tight, sleeveless muscle shirt, he was telling the starbucks workers how they should work out. They CLEARLY could care less. And then he pulls out all his shit (laptop, webcam, retard headphones w/ mic boom, etc…). He looked over to a girl sitting next to him and tried to impress her with his "knowledge" of electronics. He was telling her that he works wirelessly through the "airwaves". Apparently his laptop has a built-in cellular service that works with Starbucks sites and he does all sorts of technical stuff.

Let's be clear, here. Yes, cellular connection for laptops DO exist. But I know his didn't have it. I could tell because he had the same series of laptop as mine (which doesn't offer a cellular connection option). He was referring to his WiFi card. Dumbass.

He looked at me and asked if I had the same thing. I wanted to call him out on his bullshit, but I just simply said I didn't have it. He then looked at the girl and smirked at her and said, "He probably couldn't afford it." I scoffed at him and then ignored him. Apparently, he didn't like that, so he called out to me again and asked what my problem was. I don't normally make judgments on how people look, but I'd mentally suspected he didn't make that much money. So I responded that it had nothing to do with money. I then mentioned that this series didn't have cellular. He got uppity on me and said, "Okay asshole, why do I have it." I just laughed at him and said, "Sorry, but you don't." So he got flustered and said, "Well how do I connect on the internet?" and smiled, looking at the girl.

And, like a fucking classic movie scene, she jumped in and said, "Probably because you're using WiFi. If it was cellular, you could do it anywhere, not just Starbucks." So then he became an asshole to her, and said, "Well, then why do I subscribe to T-Mobile?" So I explained to him the concept that WiFi isn't always free and up until recently, T-Mobile had a deal with Starbucks for WiFi access. To which, he challenged me, "How do you know about the service?" As to which, in my infinite satisfaction, replied, "Because I used to work for T-Mobile. Anything else you want me to educate you on?"

He shut up and left after that. And the girl and I laughed pretty damn hard.

My point in that story is that if a person is just confused and is semi-nice, I wouldn't have been such a dick about it. But I really hated that guy.

I'm starting to hate people. And it's easier and easier for me.

 

My musical taste is starting shift again. I've got the yearning for depressing music. I'm pretty fucking sure I'll listen to nothing but AFI soon. They helped me out A LOT when I was upset, depressed and generally hateful towards everything and everyone. I find myself bitter for being alone.

I'm trying not to turn into that person I don't like. But, it's going to be hard, I fear.

 

 

Let’s Play

It's burning within and out of control
When I'm ready to sing, you'll know
I wanna rock and nod my head
Keep going, even when I'm dead
Let's make'm sing and shout
What's inside, it's coming out

Let's put on a rock show
More we play, our fans grow
It's about how we rock
Not the size of your cock
Playing riffs of the gods
We'll rock, against all odds

Fuck it all, let's just play!
Who give's a fuck what they say?
Cover some Face, Foo or Sublime
I'll sing every single fucking line

I'm ready to get on stage and play
I'll play all night and all fucking day
I want to move and dance along
I want to scream every single song
Every word I sing, they'll know
Because the music, beyond control


As you can tell, I've been listening to a lot of good music.  Punk, punk-pop, alternative, hard core, etc...  It's all fucking rock 'n roll.  Hell yeah.

This one sucks.  Davey sent me some music and I wanted to write something that accompanied it.  Hey, I never said I was a good at lyrics/poems!  LOL. Does make me want to get the band back together, though. I'd sing my heart out on this one. Davey's music writing on the instrumental is pretty damn good.

 

Johnny Jones

 

Look at him,

Like a prow cresting a wave

Johnny Jones is on the stage

He leads the crowd like a minaret

Power greatest, after the sun has set

 

Hear his voice and song

All wanting to belong

Sing the chorus, sway to the beat

Burning within, an inner heat

Johnny cries out to the skies

Singing to the distant sunrise

 

Can you hear the hypnotic hymn?

 

He's live'n his dream

Leading them all in harmony

Doesn't matter if he's off-key

They're feeling the magic of it all

They all hear the same inner call

 

Hear him sing with his heart

Who cares about the chart?

Arms raised in the same rapture

Hearts and minds, does he capture

The more they sing, his pleasure grows

The song meanings, nobody knows

 

His name is Johnny Jones…

For Some Reason, I Keep Blaming My Deficiencies On My Past

This week, I've realized how ridiculous I am when it comes to women. I lock up in complete fear when I talk to them, wanting to ask them out.

So here's my psycho-babble about why I am that way:

I'm going to start with high school. Although a MAJOR part of it is how my mother treated me and the draconian limitations she had me on, that's a whole 'nother story. No, this story begins completely with Valerie. The earliest I knew of Valerie was in our freshman year. If I remember correctly, Albert and I were in 4^th period gym (which sucked, getting all sweaty in the heat in the middle of the fucking day, with another 2 periods to go).

Albert and Valerie broke up later that year. From what I remember, it wasn't anything that was a big issue. They just realized they didn't really like each other (which cracks me up. Remember your feelings back then? How trivial those relationships seem. For me, at least!). The weird thing, was that even though there was no ill feelings towards each other, Valerie avoided him like the plague. Some of us had thought it was that she'd found something out about him or realized some repugnant truth. But from her own mouth, she just had issues with being around him. Inexplicable, she admitted.

Fast forward to the beginning of senior year: Albert was my best friend (which, actually, just consisted that we tended to hang out at school all the time… years later, I think we both realized we didn't have much in common, nor cared that much about each other. Which, explains why high school seemed so lame to me… I have no attachments, really), I'm starting to party a little (when I can escape my psycho mother) and I've had more and more classes with Valerie.

Valerie and I talk a little in classes and she's a nice girl. I find her pretty, when others are focusing on the slutty-looking girls. She seems composed and calm, rather than the annoying attention-whores that made up my classes. And trust me, the available pool for me was SMALL. Most of my classes were for AP or Honors and I tended to like only the white girls (or white-washed). Valerie was a technically Mexican, but like me, almost as white as can be. She was a cheerleader. She could be funny at times. She had no problems listening.

So I started to like her. And I desperately tried to hide it. Up until then, I'd been 50/50 with girls. But she was the first girl that I liked who I'd been friend with, originally. And I didn't want her to be weirded out. So for months, I secretly liked her, but didn't make a move. Somehow, deep down, I knew she'd freak out.

Well, I guess someone was watching me look at her one day and figured it out. They told her. And she avoided me. From that day on, if she saw me nearby, she'd completely walk away at least 15 to 20 feet away and continue on her way.

I was devastated. I didn't even try to ask her out on a date. I never tried to kiss her or even hug her. Granted, I knew how she'd react, given how she treated Albert. But, when you're somewhat slow in developing due to being overseas most of your childhood (that's a whole other chapter, as well), you can't wrap your head around that. I retreated into a self-depressed ball. Hell, a sophomore had to force me to go with her to prom, because I was so freaked out about approaching ANY girl. The stupid thing was that I didn't even appreciate my time with Sarah. She was actually a really hot sophomore. But I knew she didn't want me to miss out on my senior prom (not to mention, she'd be one of the few sophomores to go to prom), and I was gun-shy about any interaction with a girl.

Come to think about it, she was a treasure. She was patient and led me around that night. She initiated every dance. She pulled me to her group of upper-class friends (I sort of knew them, as well) to socialize. She politely told me, "YES, I wouldn't mind hanging out and going to the after-party." We both knew that we didn't like each other. But she still treated me like a very caring friend. In a way, she treated me like a mother and her wounded boy. Funny, since she was only a sophomore. Yes, guys, women DO mature quicker.

Time went on. My wounds healed. But I still froze up around women.

College started and I made a conscious decision to not regret anything. I'd stay away from shy, embarrassed James from high school. I forced myself to be outgoing. I was one of those guys that had the party life revolving around him. My friends used to joke that I was the central hub from various groups of friends. There was ALWAYS something going on, for me. Everywhere we went, we'd run into someone I knew. Every night, there was some party or hang out we'd be at. And I met some really cool girls. I had a good track record of relationships. While none of them lasted very long, I doubt any of us expected it to. I think they all knew I was a "safe guy" that wouldn't force anything or try and make it more than it was. Not one of those relationships ended in a fight or ill will.

But then I met, Leslie. She fucked with my head. She said she had feelings for me, but couldn't break up with her boyfriend. I was okay with that. But she kept pursuing me. HUH?!

And, like a retard, I fell for it. So began and off and on weird flirtatious semi-relationship. We'd go out on dates, but there was no kissing. We'd hug and hold hands, but we didn't do anything else. She'd say that her and the boyfriend were separated, but not officially done, so we couldn't progress any more, just in case. And because I was in "love" (you know how it is… you don't know shit when you're young), I was happy just to be with her and I would take what I could get.

And she played me for a year. As a friend, I'd be her counselor. She'd come to me with advice for her boyfriend. And because I always want to be a friend first, I would advise her. And she would work things out with him. Then, when they'd fight, she'd come to me as a substitute. She'd tell me how she had feelings for me. We'd have the physical intimacy, without pushing the line. Finally, she broke up with her boyfriend.

Only to get with another guy.

What a fucking idiot I was. I totally let her walk over me. My old friends used to debate over whether she really did care for me or if it was just using me the whole time. I dunno.

Years later, and some actually good relationships, I met Nicole. Nicole was a friend of a friend. I met her and she was younger and just going to CSULB. She was a Delta Gamma, so we had the greek thing in common. She was "on the outs" with her boyfriend, who wanted to get with his ex girlfriend. We'd flirted the first time we met, so we kept it up via IM. Which progressed to phone conversations. Then we both realized we liked to fall asleep with people with us (for me, I used to have a really bad nightmares due to something that happened that fucked me up. I felt more at peace when I had people around me while going to sleep). So I invited her over for a nap, and from then on, we'd nap together for a couple weeks, constantly.

I was attracted to her, but she was still in the grey area with her boyfriend. I didn't make any moves. Then, one day, she just grabbed my head and pulled my face into a kiss with her. It was both hot/sexy and caring/loving. We'd grown close that first month, since we spent somewhere around 12 hours a day with each other (anytime we didn't work). Things progressed quickly. But we never became official. I was certain she was rebounding. Plus, from our mutual friends, I knew she had problems with relationships. I guess her parents' divorce kind of fucked her up. The longest she'd stay interested in a guy was 4 months or so.

But she pushed. And she got me to fall for her. But then, for some reason, she pressed me to have The Talk. And when we had it, she told me she wasn't ready. I was like, "Huh?" Why would YOU press to have the talk, if you didn't want it to be official? I was fine with that. Except she'd always act like I was The One. But then she started hanging out with other guys. I was fine with that. We weren't official. I didn't have any hold on her.

She started messing around with them, but still wanted me to be exclusive with her. Which, it wasn't like I was going out and trying to sleep with every girl I knew. But it was such a double standard. And she'd told me she loved me. Ummm, sorry if I found that hard to believe.

Finally, she started having the itch to have a relationship, I guess. So she dropped a bomb on me and told me she wanted to date one of our mutual friends. So I told her I couldn't be around her. I didn't want to expose myself to that drama. Normally, I have no jealousy problems or comfortability issues with former girlfriends or lovers. But she played with my head so much. Not to mention, the guy she was into was a really immature, annoying guy.

Then, inevitably, she broke up with him. She sought me out and promised me she knew what she wanted and she wanted me. She said I was caring, I listened, fit her in bed and understood her like no one else ever had. So I gave her a chance, but I couldn't be played again. Either we were friends with benefits or in a relationship. No lies.

She chose us being an exclusive relationship. So we were fine. I could've gone either way, as long as there were no games. Well, that didn't last long.

She wanted to go with her ex boyfriend (the one she was with when I met her), who realized he wasn't happy with the girl he left Nikki for. I had enough of that, and I washed my hands of her.

Ever since then, I've had confidence issues with women. It's like, either I get the ones who have "requirements" in physical attributes or I get the ones who fuck me over.

My best friend (well, no longer, I guess) used to tell me it's because I treat women so well, that they know I'm "safe." I won't hurt them. It's like I'm a safe haven when things are bad. I bring their self-confidence up, until they're ready to go back into the world. And girls don't like nice-guys. They want the asshole-macho-badasses. So I'm just a safe haven for the girls who have issues.

Add up all of that and you have why I suck with women.

And… queue the violins!

 

It’s getting pathetic…

I've turned into a pansy. I find myself outwardly going on as usual. Cracking the same jokes and acting like I own the world with my co-workers. But somewhere deep down, I'm feeling a sadness that runs deep.

And when I'm alone or when my office door is closed, I find myself drifting off… Sometimes, I'm just numb and blank. I don't snap out of it until some sort of stimulus prompts me. And even then, sometimes the phone ringing, either of my phones going off in a text message or email, or a co-worker leaning their heads in to speak to me… even then, I sometimes am still consumed.

For a long time, Kelley was everything. She was my only true friend. She was the only family I had. When I was so down on life and feeling sorry for myself over something stupid (like now, probably), she was the only one there.

And to know that that's gone? I have no idea how to function… I mean, she's sort of been absent for a while now. But there was hope that it was just a phase. But now that it's definitive and "official"…

How do you get over a TRUE friend of 10 years? How do you react when you find out that they don't really care about you anymore and your friendship has degraded into nothing? When they basically prefer a booty call, someone to hang out with, a boyfriend placeholder and a person to take to "couples nights" to over someone that has always been there for you and would drop everything for? When you, yourself said that I was the best friend you've ever had and I was too good of a friend and nobody deserved a friend like me? When you told me that girls would never know how great of a boyfriend I'd make, since you'd been there to see each relationship and how I treated my friends and lovers.

So, I find myself pondering this: how do you react? How do you go on?

And, at the same time, I wonder: when did I become a whiny fucking pansy?

What happened?

I'm feeling far from manly, right now. I feel… I don't even know.

My best friend, someone I've known for 10 years (which, for me, is a lifetime… long story, I'll explain some other time), has basically forgotten me. And, I've found out, isn't really worrying about it. All for a guy that's been a dick to her (and, no, this is not the same girl I Twittered about early tonight, Jake) and she doesn't even really love. Hell, she doesn't even call him her boyfriend, since they're not really together.

I think they're both using each other for the companionship and the sex. Nothing wrong with either of those. But to forget your friends?

For the first time, she's not there for me. I've always been there for her and I've always dropped everything for her. But now she's basically forgotten me. And for him?

I think I'm going to shut myself away a little. It's a total whiny baby thing to do. It probably signifies some sort of mental weakness. But you have no idea what friendships mean to me. You have no idea the significance of it all to me. I place my heart in their hands. They are my family. And of all my friends, she stood above all others.

I feel numb. I feel… I don't even know. I may not respond or talk for a while. Please don't take it the wrong way.

Another piece of me has crumbled. And now I have to gather myself and try to salvage what little trust in friends I have left.

Memo to self: get more single friends, or find a girl to date. It was nice to actually spend my weekend with people. I miss that.

Awesome Co-Workers

I seriously appreciate the fact that I have some awesome co-workers. James, the ultimate boss is probably the best manager I've ever had the pleasure to have worked with. Jeremy astounds me with his ability to be on top of everything. And Tim's the kind of guy that's amazingly good-natured and super laid-back.

Every day, I have a lot of fun with these guys. We make fun of everything and everyone. We make fun of each other. And we have fun doing it.

Lately, we've been hanging out with each other after work. The driving range to hit a couple balls, Taylor's for a cigar, Joe Jost's for a schooner and some pool, etc…

Good times with these guys. I hope that if I go somewhere else, I'll be able to find this dynamic again.

I've come to realize that I need to get laid.

That is all. You may return to your day.

I'm a Motherfucking Director

I've always known I'm an asshole. But yesterday, sitting in an IT meeting, I realized how much of an asshole I REALLY was.

After the first 5 minutes of minutia that was divulged about a product solution that another analyst and I politely dismissed, the proposing company still tried to salvage their proposal. To be honest, we granted them quite a bit of professional courtesy. We allowed them to keep going and didn't really make them look like idiots.

The moment, though, that I realized how much of an I am was when 30 minutes into their pitch, I realized that Unibrow Chick, Thick Accent What-The-Fuck-Did-You-Say Chick and Nerdy Bobble Head Guy all were talking about real shit. And that real shit was something they were taking VERY seriously. That was money for them. For all I know, that was desperately needed business to keep their business afloat. Who knows?

You see, I stopped respecting them as people when I got irritated listening to the desperate tone of the Thick Accent What-The-Fuck-Did-You-Say Chick trying to persuade us that Microsoft's Reporting Services could do what we wanted (to which I'll let you know, it can't). I starting making up little plays in my mind. And the three characters that were sitting across the conference table were the main stars. Lavish contrived scenarios were played out, one after another.

And this was all because of two things:

One: I lost respect for them because of their undignified desperate attempt at trying to convince us of something when our minds were made up. Granted, I have respect for someone being passionate and fighting for what they want. But when a potential client tells you, "No," it's pretty cut and dry. And in addition, I have no respect for people who try and con clients into using their services, when something else exists.

You see, what they do is help other companies set up reporting and databases. The problem is that they only know a couple key programs. And they'll try and make everything fit into the confines of those programs, regardless of if the programs are a good match or not. It's like using a wheelbarrow for a wheelchair. You can do it. You'd require a friend to lift and push you to the right location, to move around though. That's sort of what they're trying to do.

And the second thing: Because I can be a judgmental asshole. You know how I get all annoyed about how I'm dismissed because of my height (or, lack thereof)?

HYPOCRITE!

I couldn't get over Unibrow Chick's neanderthalish qualities. A heavy brow completely emphasized by her thick, heavy hairy eyebrows that although clearly two separate entities, could be confused as one singular masterpiece of stereotypical Armenian racial joke. Not only did they encroach upon each other, there was some light hair in other people's gap of the no-man's-land of eyebrows. For this woman, Pyscho Mike's Brow Down kept playing in my head the WHOLE time (if you've never seen it, go to YouTube and search for Brow Down). That masterpiece from the Kevin and Bean show perfectly described this lady.

The next woman that earns my assholeness ire was the Thick Accent What-The-Fuck-Did-You-Say Chick. While no beauty herself, aural issues were her problem. Her accent was so thick, that I couldn't fucking figure out what the hell she was saying. I'm sorry, this is complete asshole right here, but why the fuck would you take a chick that could barely get out English to a meeting to sell your services? She brought NO VALUE to the meeting. All she did was keep trying to keep bringing the conversation back to using MS Reporting Services (at least, that's what I think she kept saying… We couldn't really tell). This served only to piss off Becky. And Becky's not the type of person to piss off.

Finally, there was the Nerdy Bobble Head Guy. While I'm as much of a dorky nerd as anyone out there, at least I look semi-normal (yes, that's debatable). This guy had a the typical, white-boy early-90's wall street haircut (think Christian Bale in American Pyscho. The PERFECT visualization of this guy's hair). With this guy, the hair made his head look massive on his body. Perhaps it was the tie cinched tightly that accentuated his scrawny neck. And when he nodded his head every time we made a statement or point… well, you get the idea.

All these were judgments. Granted, I stand behind my evaluation of their poor preparation and presentation skills (not to mention, general business knowledge). But, even if they were super smart, I'd still be seeing them act out several scenes in my head.

HAHA. I still see them.

Date?

So there I was, on a "date" with a girl who I knew within 15 minutes that she wasn't my type, and I was in a quandary. I could be a dick and really try and work on dating her to get laid. Because she WAS pretty fucking hot. And man, if she said, let's have some care-free sex, I'd have to say I'd be completely okay with that. It HAS been a while since I've gone down on a woman, and I thoroughly enjoy that.

Okay, back to the story…

She kept talking about being a strong activist and a strong woman. I'm all for that. But she seemed to be a romantic. You know, like a kid who romanticized the idea of being a soldier fighting for his country (keep in mind, I have no problems with that, since I AM an Army brat). It sort of felt like she was brainwashed into being the eco-terrorist, feminist, political activist.

Again, I have no problems with those sorts of people. They're voicing their opinion, just like I could if I wanted to. But I'm not a fan of people who do it because they were convinced or believe it's a cool thing to do.

Do it because you BELIEVE.

And, sorry, but listening to her talk… I doubt she understood much of what she was talking about. Most of her talk was that sort of scripted monologue that people who think they're informed, but aren't, say.

But, damn, I really wouldn't have minded hoping in the sack with her! Hahaha. Man, I can be such a "guy".

Need Another Getaway Trip

I need another trip to get away from things. Haha. You know, you go for so long oblivious to anything that might be wrong... But then, things come up again that remind you of the things that bother you.

When I first got this job, I went fishing up in Big Bear with 3 of my co-workers (one, my direct boss. another, the Big Boss). And it was the most fun I've had in a LONG time. I'd only known them for two weeks, but we knew we all would get along well.

We didn't catch a damn thing. It was too fucking cold. 36 degrees in the sun. But we still went out there and fished. We talked and joked around. Told stories about people who were on the program before I got there. We watched comedies and played video games on one of our projectors with an 80 inch screen (gotta love well-done portable projectors and screens!). We just had fun. We relaxed.

I need another trip like that. No worries about work, money or love life (or lack of a love life). I think I'll talk to the guys about it tomorrow. Maybe we'll even go this month...

Add Another Hash Mark on the Chalkboard

Once again, I'm reminded about how much I hate attraction. In that, I mean, I hate how subjective it is. I hate how things can automatically rule you out, regardless of the "real" you.

Oh, fuck it. Let's be real. I'm just bitter I'm not some tall, model-looking guy. Assholes and dicks tend to get the girl, because I don't fit "the type". And I don't blame them at all. I don't blame a girl for following what she's attracted to. I don't blame a guy for using his wares to get the girl.

I guess this stems from a reaction I got earlier. Was IM'ing someone and she had the typical reaction when she found out my height. And that just re-awakened all of the past times where my physical shortcomings fucked me over. I'm okay with being short. Really, "accepting yourself for who you are" is something I've come to peace with a long time ago. For me, it's the fact that opportunities are lost.

You could say that if someone doesn't accept you for who you are, you shouldn't be with them. But you never know when it could have been something great, because of a small thing. You never know…

Anyway, I've long since stopped looking for a girl. I've been tired of having to subjugate myself to the constant rejection and dismissals. I'll probably never find a girl like that. They say that sometimes you have to fight for what you want. I'm too tired to fight.

 

On a side note, what's with all of the depressing posts?! When do we get to the fun shit?

Thinkers and Dreamers

There are those who think
And there are those who dream
Then there are many of those
Who aren't what they seem

There are those who laugh
And there are those who cry
Then there are some who stoop
Who doubt those who would fly

There are those who comfort
And there are those who hate
Then there are a few who doubt
Those who would believe in fate

Which one are you?
Do you seek to be more?
To be better than those,
Those who have come before?

There are those who think
And there are those who dream
Life in every breath and moment,
That's what your life should mean

~Jaymz

Hello and welcome to my odd little world.

Hello, Boys and Girls! Gather 'round, gather 'round! 'Tis story time and Uncle James has a grand story to tell. Let me tell you about a boy and his fucked up existence…

Yes, a new blog. This will be somewhere around my 11^th blog that I've created. For a long time, I had three that I maintained quite religiously for 5 to 6 years straight. But those became empty of any meaning to me. You see, one was an outlet for my "inner poet" (shut the hell up! I know it sounds lame!). The next was an outlet for my sexual wants, needs, desires, successes and pleasures. I felt the need for anonymity, for I was over concerned with how people viewed me and the kinky things I thought up of or experienced with girlfriends, lovers, fuck buddies or one-night stands. The last blog, was my attempt in reconciling the different sides of myself.

You see, the "poet" had a small fan base that viewed me as a romantic and a gentleman. He had ideals and morals. His thoughts were sometimes viewed as cultured and philosophical. Hell, they oftentimes were of an everyday guy that happened not to fuck people over. The sexual freak had a following that thought I was a strong, manly man that was that asshole-type of guy that girls seem to love, these days.

I never lied. I never mislead anyone. But for some reason, I separated myself. And that combo-blog was my attempt at bringing them together, while allowing my readers to continue to follow along with me. But all that did was make me pander myself to the audience. So about two years ago, I stopped. And I think I've kind of missed that venting that blog gave me. It was a nice, cathartic outlet for me to voice my thoughts.

And so, I submit to you, a new blog. A new blog that I hope will not cater to anyone else but me. I warn you, those of you who choose to follow. I warn you that there will be random and odd subjects. I warn you that there will be half-completed thoughts, since I'll know what I'm talking about and probably won't need to make full references for me to know what I'm saying.

So how about we take a little walk into the earlier chapters? I'm a puzzle already enough. How about I provide a little back story to try and help you understand me a little? How about we talk about my "family". You'll understand why I put that in quotations, later.

From the earliest that I can remember (around 5 years old or so) until I graduated from college, my mother made my life hell. Actually, to be accurate, she made our whole family's lives a living hell. Nobody was free from her wrath. My sister and my dad were in as much danger from her as I was. The only difference is that she openly said how much she hated me. Yes, I know, all of you are saying, "Oh, he's being over-dramatic." Nope.

Instead of just grounding me for not getting an A in 4^th grade, she'd yell at me and say how worthless I was… And then tell me to go get the bamboo stick. Oh, how I hated that fucking stick. If you didn't know, bamboo is one of the strongest plants in the world. That fucking stick never broke. So she'd use it on me over and over. I don't want to exaggerate, but I think I was beat with it on average of every three days. But if I was lonesome of the beatings, I ALWAYS had the yelling to keep me company.

When I was in high school, I lost myself in books. One of my former teachers in Germany (oh, did I forget to mention that my father was in the military and we lived in Germany for 7 years? Forgive me), introduced me into the world of fantasy in the 5^th grade. It first started with a Dungeons and Dragons book (which I didn't much care for). But then I read a book called Sojourn by R.A. Salvatore. I was hooked. I got lost in a J.R.R. Tolkien-like world. Except, unlike Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, the story was more about morality, sense of self and character. When Drizzt Do'Urden turned his back on his people and tried to live in a world of the just and innocent, his persecution due to his race spoke to me. I didn't have any racial problems. But nobody understood me at home or at school. I was an outcast trying to gain acceptance.

Yes, ANY kid can say that. And I can't lay claim to that any more than someone else. But I do know that the combination of just moving back to the US, while going through the transition of elementary school to junior high, in addition to my body keeping constant company with that fucking bamboo stick was not an easy thing for me.

In addition to those books, I lost myself in music. I was a bit confused at first, but I found my way. Metallica was my savior. To this day, it makes me move. Indirectly, Metallica made me find punk and alternative music. To this day, music is something that I need every day. I played in a cover band for a couple years, due to how I could lose myself in the music. I even got a tattoo of one of my favorite bands. More on the music I love in the near future…

Where was I? How about the social life? Nope. I had to beg to go to dances. And because I was such a fucking pathetic loser due to my mother not letting me have a social life, it was hard to get dates to those dances. Right up until I graduated, I only got to hang out with my school friends on average of about once a quarter. No exaggeration.

When I graduated high school, my father had just retired and got a job with the INS. He was in school in Georgia (ever federal agent or law enforcement officer has to go through a basic training there). I stood up to my mother late one night. I was talking on the phone to a girl that I wanted to ask out, when my mother barged in and started yelling that I didn't do anything that day. I snapped. So much anger and resentment from so many years boiled up to the surface.

She screamed at me and asked me what I had to say for myself. I started to speak, but she just started yelling again. When she reared her hand back to punch me (the fucking stick was downstairs) and I said in a quiet voice, "Go ahead and hit me. You don't know how to talk to me, anyway. You may as well hit me, since I can't talk to you." She just stood there. I think my sister would've been proud of me, if she were there (she'd escaped years before, by going to college and getting a good job).

I snapped inside. I stormed down the stairs and got that fucking bamboo stick and brought it back upstairs where I'd left her. She must've though I was going to hit her. Oh, one thing, the funny thing is that due to the fact that we were a semi-Asian family (Asian in biology, but as white as can be in regular life), the customs made her safe. You see, I was a black belt in two different martial arts. However, she knew I'd never hit her back.

Well, at that moment, she probably thought I was going to. But, what I actually did was start hitting myself. Yes, I went crazy. I hit my own arm, my legs, my stomach. Over and over. Hard as I could. Each hit, I'd scream something like, "Satisfied? Is this what you want?" And, like a fucking dramatic movie scene, one blow, I broke that fucking stick when I hit my forearm after so many self-inflicted blows to myself. After 10 plus years of that stick being swung at me from my mother, it broke when I hit myself.

Go fucking figure.

My mother just stood there through it all, looking at me as if I were a psycho kid (not that I blame her). I was breathing heavily, the adrenaline numbed any pain in my limbs. I finally turned around and went back into my room.

My mother never hit me again.

But it's not all bad like this, I swear. I'm capable of love and fun. Due to how fucked up my family is, I hold my friend's families even more dearly. They've become my family. And, surprisingly, every girlfriend I've ever had has told me that their parents love me to death. I still get emails or phone calls from some of their mothers every once in a while.

I think I'm going to try and look into moving. I'm thinking north Long Beach or Lakewood for work. Or Huntington Beach, because I used to love living there. I could stay in the South Bay, but I might be over the congestion.

Anyway, stay with me. Fun and odd posts will come in time. I'm just reminiscing. I had iTunes running and The Call of Ktulu, an instrumental by Metallica, came on and it made me think of my beginnings.

So I beg you, don't think of me too much of a loser yet. Judge me by the things that amuse me and the things that make me an idiot. Those posts will come. Stay with me.