Monday, September 27, 2010

What I Have Learned...

Nobody really knows anything...

But everyone thinks they do.

I certainly don't know anything.

But, like everyone else, I think I do......

So here's stuff I think I know

Although, I don't think you should read it. Because nobody really knows anything.

Especially me.

me == stupid

Don't listen to me.

In fact, you should stop reading right now.

If you're still reading there's probably something wrong with you, because I wrote this and there's probably something wrong with me. Nothing that i say should ever be listened to, taken seriously, or repeated back into air waves in any form in general. the fact that I even discuss a subject should suggest an error in it and its participants merely by my association.

Everything exists because it can. There is no other requirement for existing.

Everything is relative.

The size of anything depends on what you're comparing it to.

Life goes on.

There is no way to deserve it or earn it. You already have it. You, and only you, get to choose what to do with it. People will tell you what you should do with it. but they will also ask for money. So figure that one out.

In reality, there is no life anywhere.

The things that we call "alive" are the things that most resemble ourselves. Beyond this, everything is essentially the same.

Everyone is selfish. This is okay because everyone must be selfish. If everyone were selfless there would be no selves. There would be only one thing. It. Everything. And no one to call it anything.

Good and evil are opposite ends of desire. On one end is everything you desire. On the other is everything you fear.

Good people are only happy when you're happy.

Evil people are only happy when you're sad.

Love and hate are opposite ends of reason.

On one end is everything you choose to see. On the other end is everything you choose to ignore.

The earth is kept afloat in space by several large elephants standing atop several LARGER sea turtles. I just haven't figured out if it's flat or round yet.

Movement is everything. How things move determines what they are, what they were, and what they're going to be. Everything you do, have done, and will do is moving something from one place to another. Every movement you make is a choice to take from one thing and give to something else.

Choose wisely

If movement is everything, the art of mastering everything is the art of mastering different types of movement.

If you help others accomplish their goals, they will most likely return the favor. With interest. If you prevent people from accomplishing their goals, they will most likely return the favor. With even more interest.

Karma is what happens when the waves you send out come back to you. Be careful what you send out.

Laziness is good. It's the only way to know if you're wasting time. Laziness is the key to efficiency. The less work you want to do, the more you'll think of efficient ways to do it.

we naturally think in pictures. Words are much more efficient, but much less accurate.

Societies are cooperative redundant arrays. Cooperative redundant arrays allow us to specialize.

cooperative + redundant array + specialization = epic win

The problem is always the opposite of the solution. If you see a problem, you're really seeing the solution. You're just comparing it to the real state of things, which is currently the opposite of the solution. If the problem is merely the reverse of the solution, the art of creating solutions is simply the art of accurately seeing the problem.

The more you think you know, the less you actually know. forget all your assumptions and you will be left with nothing. But what is.

Belief seeks thhe closest matching reality. Remember this when dealing with others. No one sees the world as it is, only as they believe it to be.

Humans are probably the first species on this planet with the capability to believe and maintain complex systems of nonsense at will. Sadly, this may be our best and most redeeming attribute.

You can accomplish any goal and you can be anything you want to be. All you need to do is believe the previous sentence.

Everything would be much easier if we all just chose one number and stuck with it. I suggest 42. Or possibly 13. I am not superstitious.

Someday, i will most likely be killed by someone who can't handle a joke, someone who plays a short game, someone who lacks the foresight to see greater long-term gains from cooperation, someone even more foolish than me.

Now THAT'S funny.

It is wise to listen to your parents. They've been around long enough to gain loads of wisdom and learn many things. It is unwise to do what they tell you to. They're full of shit.

Life is absurd.

Humor is required for happiness. If you can't appreciate absurdity, you can't appreciate life.

Life is fair. It treats everyone equally. You get exactly what you deserve. You got in for free, so stop complaining. Asshole.

Everything is meaningless. We add meaning to help ourselves. If we go, all of the meaning goes with us.

Stop taking everything so seriously. Just have fun. That's not a fact, just a suggestion.

The past is an illusion. we create these things to help ourselves. There is only now. Right now. Now.

Death goes off. And that's ok. Because off is nothing. And nothing is nothing to worry about.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

advice (don't take it)

When did we forget out dreams?
The infinite possibilities that each day hold should stagger the mind. the sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking, and I'm sitting here refreshing my inbox.
We live in trapped loops, reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a few paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day, respond the same way, we think the same thoughts, every day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms.
We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.
And no, I don't have all the answers. I don't know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know one thing: the solution doesn't involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of someday easing my fit into a mold. It doesn't involve tempering my life to better fit someone's expectations. It doesn't involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up.
this is very important, so i want to say it as clearly as I can:
FUCK. THAT. SHIT.

My advice:
1) Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes
2) In a society that has abolished adventure, the only adventure left is to abolish that society
3) The worst mistake anyone can make is being too afraid to make a mistake
4) Don't tell me the sky's the limit when there are footprints on the moon
5) This is YOUR life, and it's ending one minute at a time.
6) YOU ARE ON A ROCK FLOATING THROUGH SPACE
7) Harden the fuck up.
8) Never regret anything because, at one time, it was exactly what you wanted.
9) When faced with two choices, simply toss a coin. It works not because it settles the question for you, but because in that brief moment when the coin is in the air... you suddenly know what you are hoping for.

In the end, it doesn't matter what the press says. It doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. it doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principal above all else. The requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth and tell the whole world:
NO. YOU MOVE.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Seasick Steve and his three stringed guitar

So, i stumble... a LOT.
for those of you who don't know what stumbling is... It's a Mozilla Firefox add on. essentially, you click the button and it takes you to a random website.
So, i was stumbling and I stumbled upon a youtube video featuring one Seasick Steve. this guy........ is fucking..... AMAZING.
I watched some more of his videos. turns out the guitar he's using, he bought for 75 bucks in Mississippi. When he bought it, it had three strings on it, and they were in the wrong place. he hasn't changed that. the three strings that were on the guitar when he bought it are still there today... all he's done is written on the guitar and added toilet paper.
TOILET PAPER, PEOPLE!
I TOLD YOU THIS GUY WAS AWESOME!!!

Check him out:



video

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Mending

So... my GF read my post about Stacy and now she's all pissed because she thinks that I'm going after Stacy while dating her.
She has full right to be pissed. Because that's indeed how it reads.
So I must clear a few things up.
The Stacy story didnt happen last weekend like I said it did. I just made it more recent to make it more interesting... It actually happened sometimes in May (possibly earlier... I don't exactly remember the time frame).
We weren't really dating then, though i do believe we had just met and were smiling at each other.
I'm sorry I lied about the time frame. It was my bad. Now I just hope I can mend my relationship.
Fuck this is gonna be hard...

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

So, earlier this year, my sister was in a music video. I spent forever looking for it and finally found it.
She's sweeping at the beginning... and at 1:39
so yeah... there you go. enjoy.
video

Monday, September 6, 2010

Calvin & Hobbes & Fight Club

In the film Fight Club, the real name of the protagonist (Ed Norton’s character) is never revealed. Many believe the reason behind this anonymity is to give "Jack" more of an everyman quality. Do not be deceived. "Jack" is really Calvin from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. It’s true. Norton portrays the grown-up version of Calvin, while Brad Pitt plays his imaginary pal, Hobbes, reincarnated as Tyler Durden.

Hobbes == Tyler Durden

Picture this: a hyper, self-absorbed child initially concocts an imaginary friend as the ideal playmate, to whom more realistic qualities soon become attributed. This phantasm becomes a completely separate personality, with his own likes, dislikes, and temperament—and the imaginer and the imagined clash and argue constantly, though remaining fast friends. This pattern continues to the point where the child begins to perceive what was originally mere fantasy to be reality.

Just as Calvin has an imaginary jungle-animal friend named Hobbes, whom everyone else believes to be nothing but a stuffed toy, "Jack" in Fight Club has an imaginary cool-guy friend named Tyler, whom no one but Jack can see.

In both cases, the entity that began as the ideal companion soon took on a more realistic, three-dimensional quality. In other words, they became real. This is evident in that both Hobbes and Tyler also began to function as scapegoats for their creators. For instance, consider that Calvin often blames broken lamps and other assorted household mischief on Hobbes, and that Jack is inclined to believe that Fight Club and other various anti-society mischief is brought about by Tyler, not himself. Calvin claims Hobbes pounces on him every day after school; Jack believes Tyler beats him up next to 40 kilotons of nitroglycerin in a parking garage—the list goes on and on. The relationships between the two sets of friends are the exact same. Is this mere coincidence?

Filling in the time-gap between Calvin and Jack, we can imagine the story as something like this: Once Calvin reaches the hostile environment known as the seventh grade, the constant teasing from the other students and the frustrated concern of his parents finally becomes too much, and a reluctant, disillusioned Calvin is finally forced to grow up, or at least begin to. This decision is sealed by one of the hardest things young Calvin will ever have to do in his life: un-imagine Hobbes, an act which to Calvin is essentially no different from murder. After being Calvin’s best friend for over a decade, Hobbes is packed away in a box, or tossed carelessly into a garbage bag, perhaps even stuffed under the same bed that once contained so many monsters. This is all, of course, very painful for Calvin, so much so that he represses it all in shame. Little does Calvin suspect that while he is busy growing up, deciding what "dinette set defines him as a person," Hobbes is also maturing in the recesses of his mind, waiting to be unleashed at an appropriate time.

It’s worth noting that during these twenty or so years, Hobbes never bears a grudge against Calvin nor wishes any ill upon him. Hobbes, remembering the depth of their past friendship, does not hate Calvin but rather hates the society that made Calvin put him away. Hobbes, residing in Calvin’s mind, sees and experiences all that Calvin does—and truly despises all of it. He witnesses a bright, superbly imaginative kid (with a genius-level vocabulary) reduced to nothing more than another nameless cog. Fighting off the tears wept for his conventionalized pal, Hobbes resolves to set Calvin free, paying special attention when Calvin idly looks up homemade-napalm recipes on the Internet.

Flash forward to the timeframe depicted in Fight Club. Calvin/Jack has reached an all-time low. He has done everything society has told him to do but is completely void of happiness. Hobbes, newly adjusted as "Tyler Durden" (after all, grown-up Calvin would no longer accept a jungle animal walking, talking, and eating canned tuna), re-enters Calvin/Jack’s life, determined to show Calvin everything he’s done wrong, whether he likes it or not.

Tyler to Jack: "I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck I’m smart, capable, and most importantly, I’m free in all the ways you wish you could be."

Calvin has always idolized Hobbes. In Weirdos From Another Planet, he dresses up like a tiger and attempts to live in the woods. Like Hobbes, Tyler is cool, collected, and incredibly cerebral. Given this evidence, one can conclude that Tyler is Hobbes, reincarnated after being trapped inside Calvin/Jack’s brain for so many years. Just as Calvin is Jack, Hobbes is Tyler.

Susie Derkins == Marla Singer

Somewhere between the end of high school and beginning of college, uptight, grade-obsessed Susie Derkins lost her way. The pressure to get good grades, the pressure to succeed, simply became too much for her, and she snapped.

Marla remembers the girl she used to be.

Free from the protective bonds of her parents’ guidance and the bland safety of her suburban home, Susie loses her moral bearings entirely and sinks into a dark, seamy, grim world of sex, drugs, and eccentric Albert-Einstein-like hair. Her transformation is so complete that she no longer even remotely resembles the upright citizen that her parents and society wanted her to be: thus, she changes her name.

Like Calvin, Susie has become a misfit, one of society’s lost lambs. It is for this reason that she soon finds herself frequenting support groups such as "Remaining Men Together." Fate has brought her back to Calvin, whom she probably spurned back in junior high. But the two have changed so much that they no longer recognize each other!

The pink dress Marla wears in one scene slightly resembles something that "Binky Betsy," Susie’s favorite childhood doll, once wore: the doll that Calvin stole and attempted to ransom. While Calvin and Susie mostly teased and tortured each other, Hobbes was infatuated with the raven-haired beauty. Accordingly, Jack despises Marla, whereas Tyler takes an *ahem* sort of interest in her (definitely inappropriate for the Sunday Funnies).

When we are first introduced to Marla, she is but a tumor on Jack’s slowly deteriorating world. She is disenfranchised, morbid, socially apathetic—and Jack despises her because she is a mirror image of himself, his own female double. On the other hand, Calvin hates Susie because she is his exact opposite: Bright, obedient, demure—the unruly Calvin has every reason to hate her. However, certain strips definitely infer that Calvin has somewhat of a crush on Susie, and some even imply that Susie shares these latent feelings. But as a cootie-fearing grade-schooler, Calvin may only express these strange feelings through attention-getting antagonisms such as constant snowballs to the head, ransoming her dolls, and through his separate, conveniently more mature other personality—Hobbes.

Unlike Calvin, Hobbes has never been bashful about showing his affection for Susie. Calvin’s imaginary tiger-friend has called her a "cutie," worn swim jams to impress her ("Girls flip for guys in jams"), and even claimed he would betray their club’s secret code if she gave him a tummy rub (which is one of the key differences between Tyler and Hobbes). Naturally, all of this confuses and frustrates Calvin beyond words, even though Hobbes is really nothing more than a product of his own mind! And though Hobbes and Susie never consummated their love for each other (he’s a stuffed tiger and she’s a kid, you sicko!) this is, of course, the exact same deranged love-triangle that is shared between Jack, Tyler, and Marla, or at least a natural progression thereof. Perhaps Marla puts up with Jack/Tyler’s apparent nonsense for so long, because it’s the sort of thing she became used to as a child? And perhaps, in the end, Jack finds solace in Marla because it’s the exact same connection he should’ve made long ago, in his suburban youth. A connection that may have saved them both.

G.R.O.S.S. == Fight Club

In a scene eerily reminiscent of Fight Club, Hobbes blithely informs a sulking Calvin that he decides his own level of involvement in G.R.O.S.S.

When you boil it down, the Fight Club that Jack and Tyler start is really just an odd sort of boys’ club—no ovaries allowed—where men can be men, and the so-called stronger of the sexes can take solace in the fact that, even in our politically correct times, some exclusivities of manhood still remain. (As a side note, imagine how much more controversy the movie would have generated if it involved scenes of men fighting women on equal ground!)

And clubs like this, of course, have their beginnings in backyards, tree houses, and garages all over America. Not surprisingly, Calvin started such a club when he was six years old. Little did anyone realize that he would construct another one much later in his life, again with the aid of an imaginary friend. For just as Calvin, Hobbes, and Susie have dark future versions in Jack, Tyler, and Marla respectively, G.R.O.S.S. (Get Rid Of Slimy girlS ) has the same in Fight Club.

G.R.O.S.S. shares the following characteristics with Fight Club:

--Both have catchy names (although the "slimy" part of G.R.O.S.S. is redundant, otherwise it doesn’t spell anything).

--Both are co-run by a friendless male and his imaginary companion (Calvin is Tyrant and Dictator-for-Life; Hobbes is President and First Tiger).

--Both are exclusively male organizations, although Fight Club’s membership is considerably larger.

--Along with that, all members of both organizations are very loyal.

--The leaders of both organizations constantly engage in fisticuffs (but only in G.R.O.S.S. does a member receive a demerit for biting). --And in said fights, in both organizations, there is only one fight at a time!

--Both are supposedly very secretive (though Jack never tells his mother about Fight Club).

--At least one leader of both organizations is fond of giving speeches (though Calvin never uses the term "space monkey").

--G.R.O.S.S. and Fight Club both wreak havoc on their respective neighborhoods (G.R.O.S.S.’s target is considerably more focused, i.e., Susie).

Clearly, the roots of Fight Club can be seen in G.R.O.S.S. Calvin shows his penchant for such male-oriented, destructive organizations. Also, just like cardboard-box-time-machines and water-gun-transmogrifiers, G.R.O.S.S. was likely created as an escape, a release—as, of course, was Fight Club.

Moe == Robert "Bob" Paulson

Moe secretly seeks atonement for past sins.

Robert "Moe" Paulson, Calvin’s grade-school bully, becomes a six-time weight-lifting champion, and somewhere along the line develops large man-boobs as a result of testicular cancer. This of course leads him to his support group, where he is shocked to find Calvin.

Moe greatly regrets his bullying days, but, too ashamed to reveal his true identity to Calvin, he instead offers his ample bosom for him to cry on, as a measure of retribution.

The Father

Although we’ve already learned of the fates of Hobbes, Susie, and Moe, there are a couple of other people important to Calvin that are missing. People that are even more integral to his development than (arguably) Hobbes: his parents. Mr . . . uhm . . . , and Mrs . . . uh. . . . Okay, so they don’t have names. But then again, there is no need to know them. Because in the comic strip, they’re not supposed to be important characters in their own right. They only matter in regards to how Calvin is directly effected by them; an effect which, by the time of the film, doesn’t seem to have been very positive. From what "Jack" mentions, he’s not exactly close to his parents, particularly his dad, on whom he seems to pin many of his problems. And this matches perfectly with the relationship depicted in the comic, as well as with what happened afterwards.

Calvin’s dad seems to have done quite a number on his son. As stated, it was probably at his urging that Calvin "grew up," that is, finally started to conform to society’s rules, which was the death of Hobbes. Of course, his father wasn’t without his playful side—good-naturedly teasing Calvin at every opportunity—but perhaps this is why "Jack" resents him so much. Maybe after Jack reached the end of his dutiful journey, only to find emptiness, he thought back to the day his father told him that the sun sets down somewhere in Arizona every night. "Maybe," thought Calvin, "maybe ALL of it’s been just another one of Dad’s cruel jokes."

In the "bathtub" scene of Fight Club, "Jack" and Tyler discuss their woeful parents. In this scene, crucial information is revealed, as well as some inconsistencies. "Jack" claims his father left when he was six, an age when Calvin’s dad was obviously still around, but this statement is contradicted soon after, when Tyler mentions his own dad telling him to get married when he was thirty, to which "Jack" responds, "mine said that too." The self-pitying "Jack" is most likely seeking to garner additional sympathy from his newfound friend by making his childhood sound worse than it actually was.

But even more interesting is Tyler’s hostility towards his father: when "Jack" asks him who he would fight, if he could fight anyone, he answers, "I’d fight my father." But, since Tyler is only a figment of Jack’s imagination, we can only assume he’s referring to Jack’s father. And while this hatred would only make sense given that the two are sharing the same brain, why is it that Tyler seems to hate Jack’s father even more vividly than "Jack" himself does? Maybe it’s because Tyler hasn’t forgotten who’s ultimately responsible for the un-imagining that took place years before . . . maybe he’s still not too happy about it . . . and maybe he’s got some pretty good ideas for revenge.

The role of Calvin’s father in all of this is no small one. Other than to "save" Calvin, it’s entirely possible that Tyler’s real motivation for taking down civilization is simply to get back at Calvin’s father. For by destroying the society that forced Calvin into repressing Hobbes, he’s also destroying the society that Calvin’s father, after all, epitomizes. And this of course allows Hobbes an indirect measure of revenge.

Calvin == "Jack"

Although the personality differences between Calvin in the comic strip and Calvin in the movie are pretty large, it can be explained as easily as taking Id and introducing him to Superego ("Jack" actually seems to have sort of a Super-Superego). Nearly all people go through the same thing when first confronted with the crushing grind of reality. But, as they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall—and in terms of imagination and dreams, Calvin was a giant.

Still, it’s not as though common traits between Calvin-Calvin and Jack-Calvin can’t be identified at all. Besides a preference for imaginary friends over real ones, and an inability to express affection for girls, Calvin has never done well when forced to play by any sort of rules. Take, for instance, his utter inability in any sort of organized sport, compared to his unbridled joy while playing the make-it-up-as-you-go-along "Calvinball." Furthermore, even at age 6 Calvin never exactly thrived in stifling, authoritarian establishments (i.e., school), and he’s always had clashes with authority figures since the strip began (his parents, the doctor, his teacher, Rosalyn)—which actually may have initially planted the seeds for Tyler. Beyond that, his excellent vocabulary and way with words are still with him in the voice-over narration of Fight Club, and his rampant materialism that started with mail-order propeller-beanies ends with yin-yang shaped tables. As for the differences, they can be credited to the demoralizing effect of reality.

In the end, Calvin’s involvement with Fight Club and return of Hobbes can be boiled down to two words: "Personal Responsibility." For although Fight Club and Project Mayhem were both mostly Tyler’s doing, by the end of the movie, Jack readily accepts his own part of the blame, as Tyler is his creation. And by doing so, he also accepts responsibility for the undesirable condition of his own life; his father may have pushed him, but Calvin himself was the one who chose to obey. It is through this newfound self-accountability that Calvin/Jack is able to take control of his own life at last. As skyscrapers flash and crumble in the background, and blood oozes from the bullet hole in his head, Calvin says that he is "okay." And we are apt to believe him.

Calvin’s world in the comic strip is pure, romanticized idealism, whereas in the movie, he lives in gray, bleak reality. Within the safety of the panel, Calvin is perpetually six years old, terrible things can never happen, and no matter how crazy a stunt he pulls, everything always returns to status quo. Because of this, our hero is free to do as he wishes, free to chase his dreams as wildly as he desires, never having to worry about tomorrow because there essentially will never be one—unless it’s part of a continuing storyline. This makes the reality of Fight Club all the bleaker, because it depicts what happens when you take someone weaned on dreams and limitless possibilities and jam him into a cramped cage confined by rules and regulations. It probably only took poor Calvin a few years in the adult world (or growing-up world) to fully make the sad change.

This transition from gleeful Calvin to dull "Jack" is not uncommon. Little Nemo became a banker, Peter Pan became a lawyer, and Garfield was caught and butchered by the chef of a Chinese restaurant. (One exception is Charlie Brown, who from all indications was mentally middle-aged at the time of his birth.)

The moral of the story is that reality bites, kiddies. Calvin and Hobbes in Fight Club are proof of this sad, sad truth.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Chasing Stacy: or How I Learned To Stop Being a Pussy and Man the Fuck Up

So... I'm fascinated... intrigued... and infatuated with my BEAUTIFUL neighbor, Stacy.
She's gorgeous. She's not one off those scene girls... she doesn't have streaks in her hair. She doesn't have piercings or take crappy myspace pics. she has a good steady job and a beautiful smile. She's hard working, responsible... and lovely. And all I can do is think about her day in and day out.
She moved in about a month ago, and i didn't know it. what I DID know was i needed some plastic baggies for my marinate. See, i make this AMAZING marinade that I put on brisket, steaks, and ribs. And every weekend, I take it over to my best friend, Luis's house... and we grill like motherfuckers. Beer, cigarettes, guitars, fire... the works.
But I had run out of ziploc baggies to soak the meat in my sauce. So i knock on Lisa's door. Lisa lives in 302. She's a dear friend and has been my friend even through my divorce. she watches my cats when I leave town and we treat each other to dinner often. But she's kind of... a dominatrix... and that's not really my cup of tea. So no dating for us.
Anyway... Lisa was not home. Which is normal. probably working or at her BF's house. But I heard laughing coming from 301's door. so... reluctantly, I knocked. I needed those damn ziplocs.
I was met by a beautiful smile, gorgeous face, and wavy brown hair. She was a vision. I was infatuated. And I stuttered. She giggled. i asked for ziploc bags and she said of course. She let me come in and two of her friends were there. She had boxes everywhere because she had just moved in. Apparently, they were throwing her a "welcome to your new apartment" dinner. cool.
She handed me five gallon size ziplocs. She asked my name and i told her. Then she said she would have to come over and borrow something from me. I told her any time. She smiled and I swear her friends giggled. and that was it.
And... GOD DAMMIT I DIDN'T GET HER NAME!!!!
so for the next two weeks, Lisa and I tried like mad to find out her name. I was too much of a pussy to knock on the door and just ask... but still we tried.
Finally... I gathered up all my man juice and nut butter and decided "fuck this... I'm asking her out"
so... at 3 am, I went to Harris Teeter and picked up a whole chicken and some veggies and pears and wine and all kinds of goodies. My plan was to make her a dinner (because I'm too poor to take her to an exquisite restaurant) and hopefully impress her with my culinary skills... and go from there.
I spent the next 7 hours practicing what I would say to her, writing down ideas for what to make for dinner, and playing Red Dead Redemption. i was super nervous. I could be slapped or laughed at... or a series of other things that I was thinking about...
at 10am, I knocked on her door.
I heard her lean on the door to check her peephole. then she said "It's my neighbor"
So she was with someone. cool. I'd make it short.
She opened the door and I was taken back. She was in her PJs... shorts and a shirt... and she had her hair down. i thought I was going to die. She was so beautiful. She met me with a smile... and my heart jumped into my throat.
"Hi John!"
"Hi. Uhm... look.. before I go on to embarrass myself... What's your name? Lisa and I have been trying to find out... and we can't."
"I'm Stacy."
"HI STACY! Look... this is super embarrassing... but... Ever since i first met you I've been trying to figure out some suave way to ask you out to dinner. maybe bump into you in the hallway or something... but none of it was working."
At this point, she looked to the left, cocked her head a little bit, and smiled. Not a good sign.
"But then I remembered 'geeze John.. you're not rich... you can't afford nice dinners' so I figured I'd try to impress you with my culinary skills. And... i know I'm not much to look at... but I'd still love to cook for you..."
There was a slight pause and she said
"John, it sounds nice. but... to make things even more embarrassing for you... I'm here with my boyfriend."
I was pretty sure I'd kill myself that night. Still alive... but none the less.
I expressed my DEEP embarrassment while secretly praying he didn't step into view. She went on to say
"But hey... I give you props. this was pretty ballsy."
Someone fucking shoot me.
I tried to cover it up by telling her about the game nights Lisa and I have (another story for another post on another day) and she said she'd love to come.
So yeah... I worked myself up for a complete failure.
Such is the story of my life.

my first followers

So... I have followers now. Where are they from? Who knows? Frankly... who cares? THEY"RE FOLLOWING ME! Kinda excited... though i don't know why.
So welcome, dear readers. I don't update often... but when I do (and I'll try to since you're here) I promise I'll make it a good read.