Thursday, January 27, 2011

Sara 1.0

Well the time has finally come!  It's the time I tell the Sara 1.0 story.  I've referenced it in many posts, but I always say that it's another post for another day.  Well, that's today (fanfare)!  You get to hear about how the girl that I loved destroyed me!  Woohoo!

When I first came to Southern Virginia University back in 2005, I didn't know anyone.  I came here because the school said they would make my education very cheap if I came, so I came.  Plus it was on the other side of the country and I like to be dramatic when leaving problems behind me.

I was 19 at the time, and I was really, really stupid.

I remember the first time I saw Sara.  We had a Social Dance class together (yes, I took social dance... twice... she was in it... twice).  At the time, I thought she was suuuuper cute and I couldn't figure out why.  She was wearing a green shirt, hands on her hips, baggy jeans, black shoes, one of her feet was turned out like she was a ballerina, etc.  The point is, I have a pretty vivid memory of our entire relationship.  I remember nearly every moment we shared together because I loved every second of it.

I initially thought she was 25.  I remember the first time I danced with her in class, there was a move where the girl comes in close and then you spin her out.  I remember literally jumping back and blushing when she came in close.  I had never really been bashful around a girl and it was a strange experience for me.  I was normally really calm and confident.

Then I joined The Shenanigans (the comedy group out here).  One night, we were going to have a party at a friend's house and I remember running into Sara on campus while waiting for my ride.  We talked for a bit and then my ride came.  She told me she was 20 and my heart jumped into my throat (within age range!).  It turns out the driver (Keith) and Sara were good friends, so he invited Sara along.  I remember climbing in the back seat of the van and I had a choice between taking the right seat and having her sit in the middle (next to me and next to a guy that I saw earlier hitting on her) or I could take the middle seat.  I took the middle seat which forced her to sit on the right, making her sit next to me (and only me).  It was a clever move, and she admitted later that she noticed and thought it was pretty slick.

At the party, we all decided to watch a movie.  Sara and I sat next to each other on the couch.  We literally talked through the entire movie.  I completely forgot that there were other people in the room.  I had never had an experience like that before.

We dated for a year and a half and like I said before, I think I can remember every moment of it.  I was absolutely crazy about her, and I thought that she was crazy about me.  Turns out she was just normal crazy.

See, I have a very bad history of ignoring red flags.  Not red flags like, "oh hey, there's a huge red banner over there!"  I mean red flag like a really really bad sign in a relationship (especially at the beginning).  I tell myself that red flags should not be ignored, yet I always ignore them.  Always.  No matter how many times I identify one and even say out loud to my friends, "that's a red flag" I always end up ignoring them.

Sara's red flags were that she was extremely flirtatious, and that she was a liar (but I didn't pick up on the liar one until much much later).  But it wasn't your normal kind of flirtatious.  She wasn't aggressive about it.  She didn't seek flirting; it just came to her.  There was a natural beauty about her that was approachable and friendly.  She never started conversations with guys.  They always came to her.  It's a hard idea to grasp, but once you do, you begin to understand Sara.

It was with that idea that she fought off my concerns (which eventually became paranoia).  She flirted a lot, but always rode that line between flirting and friendly, and was never the one to initiate it.  Anytime I tried to bring it up, she'd make me feel dumb and paranoid.  She had me convinced that the problem was with me.

Looking back on it, she flirted with no respect to me or my feelings.  I understand that people flirt even when they're in a relationship.  It just happens.  There's always going to be at least a small amount of it.  But there is that point where it's a little too much.  Sara was very skilled in hitting that point, and then quickly pulling back.  By the time I brought it up, she was already back in safe territory and made me feel dumb for bringing it up.

Anyway, we were together for a long time.  We talked about marriage.  We even set a wedding day (December 21, for anyone that's curious).  Then I decided to go on a mission, which she was happy about.  It was a two-year commitment, but she said she was totally in love with me and that she would wait, and maybe even go on one, too (because girl missions are only a year and a half).  We had it all planned out nicely.

At the time, I lived in Ferrel House (in the attic, haha).  She'd come over every day and yell at the top of her lungs, "BOYFRIEND!!!!" and I'd come running down the stairs.  I remember coming downstairs one time and one of the guys that lived there (there were either 11 or 13 of us, I can't remember) was trying to flirt with her (and to her credit, she wasn't flirting back this time).  He then turned to me and said, "Oh hey, Brandon.  I'm just flirting with your girlfriend."  He immediately regretted saying that after I beat the hell out of him.  He didn't even get a swing in.  The RA of the house, Adam (a name you'll want to remember for later) broke us up.  I felt bad right after and helped him up and apologized and told him that I don't take those kinds of things very well and he was too scared to be pissed at me, so he said it was ok and we left it at that.

So you can see that it really wasn't the kind of thing that I could handle (flirting).  It was never a problem with any previous girlfriend (I even let a girlfriend go to prom one time with another guy and totally trusted her without even giving it a second thought), but with Sara, I had learned to become overly protective.

Then I went home from school for a few months to earn some money before I left.  Her and I remained together, but it was a long distance relationship.  I hate long distance.  I vow to never do it ever again.

We'd talk on the phone all the time.  It sucked, but we made the best of it.  Then she called one day and told me that her friend had just posted pictures of Sara and a guy together on Facebook.  She told me that it looked like a date, but it wasn't.  She said that it was just a work-related thing (because she worked as a dance instructor).  So I went and looked at the pictures.  They were far more friendly than a work-related thing, but she made me feel dumb when I tried to get upset about it.  That's the moment that things started slipping downhill.

I remember getting my mission call.  She was on the phone listening and she cried because she was so happy and told me she loved me and all that other mushy stuff.

A few more months go by.

It's the beginning of July and I'm supposed to be leaving on my mission in two weeks.  My cousin was getting married in Utah (where Sara was from and where she was for the summer), so I was going to go to the wedding and then see Sara.  I was super excited about it (to the point of not being able to focus on anything else for several weeks leading up to it) and she said she was, too.  We hadn't seen each other in about 6 months, and I anticipated a glorious reuniting of two people madly in love.  She said that she was excited to talk to me and see me and all that (and gave me the impression that she was super distracted about it and all that, too).

The day came.  I went to the wedding.  It was very nice.  The whole thing ended at about 9pm.  Then we went back to my gramma's house (where we were staying, and it also happened to be literally down the street from where Sara lived), called Sara (who was supposed to be anxiously awaiting my call) and there was no answer.  Ok, I thought.  No biggy.  I'll try again in a little bit.  I was pretty excited to see her, but I also had to get up early the next morning to catch a plane.  This was going to be the last time I'd see her for the next two years, so I wanted it to last.

I called again.  No answer.  It's about 9:45 at this point.

I call again.  She answers.  She apologizes and says that she's been helping a friend move all day.  She explains that she's got to go home and get all dressed up nice to see me and stuff.  Cool.  She says to give her a half hour.

I give her a half hour.  Then I call.  She says she's not quite ready yet and to call back in another half hour.  I'm getting pretty annoyed and anxious at this point.

I call again.  It's 10:45 at this point.  She says she's still not ready and to call back in a bit.  I wait for about 15 minutes and then call again.  She says that she's still not ready, tells me to give her a few more minutes, and then to just come over.  So I give her about 10 minutes, and then I get in the car and drive over to her house.

So at this point, it's about 11:15 or so (probably a little later).  I remember pulling up to her house - super nervous and excited to see her (because I hadn't seen her in like 6 months).  I remember taking a few minutes in the car to gather my thoughts and stuff (and imagine what it was going to be like when we saw each other), then got out of the car to walk inside.  I had parked on the other side of the street from her house, so as I was crossing the street, I saw a big grey SUV out front of her house.  Her family didn't own an SUV and she was the only one home.

There was that screaming suspicion in the front of my mind, but I decided to just ignore it and keep walking.

I walk up the front steps to her house (they're loud, wooden steps.  when I would visit her the summer before, she'd always open the door before I knocked because she would hear me walk up from the back of the house).  I walk up these steps and lift my hand to knock on the door.  I look to my left, through the front window, to see Sara on the only visible couch from the window (out of maybe 3 or 4 in her house).

She was on top of Adam with her tongue in his throat.

My world came crashing down and broke into a million tiny fragments.

Now let's step back and look at the facts for a sec:

1.  She had invited me over (after months of not seeing me), but told me numerous times she wasn't ready, which would have given her ample time to kick Adam out before I got there.

2.  The steps to her house are wooden, loud and hard to ignore.

3.  Of all the places to choose, she chooses the most uncomfortable couch and the only one that is visible from the front window.

4.  Sara and Adam had met in Virginia, but we were in Utah.

If you can come to any other conclusion other than what I'm getting at based on these facts, I'll give you a dollar.

She wanted to get caught.  She wanted me to see that.

I remember going back to my car.  I got in.  I had every intention of just going home and having that be that.  But then I thought to myself - "I have nothing left to lose.  At this point, I'm just making a good story."

So I went back up to the door and loudly knocked on it.  Sara opened it, and immediately went white.  Remember how I had messed up the guy before that said he was flirting with her?  Remember how Adam saw that and broke it up?  Remember how that guy was only trying to flirt with her?  Remember how Adam was making out with her?

I'm surprised he didn't dive out the kitchen window.

I didn't attack him.  He stayed sitting on that couch across the room.  He was smart in doing that.  If he had gotten up to say hi or something, I would have beat him to death with his own (severed and bloody) appendages.

Sara had a present for me that she had bought several months prior.  She was very excited to give it to me.  After I walked inside, there was that definitely awkward energy where they both kept looking at each other and then back at me - almost as if they were waiting for me to tie them up and torture them to death (which was still a viable option in my head).  Sara never did well with awkward situations, so she exclaimed that she had a gift for me and went running into her bedroom and shut the door - leaving Adam and me alone in the front room.

"Hi, Brandon" Adam said in the most timid and frightened voice I have ever heard from a grown man.
"Adam." I said, staring directly at the floor, doing an excellent job of controlling myself.  I couldn't beat up Adam.  That would have been like punching a small (ugly) puppy-dog.  He was defenseless.  It was bad form.  I decided to let him live.

Sara came back.  She had in her hands a gift-wrapped rectangle.  Like most other gifts, it was a book.  It was a children's book.  The book was about a bear that was too big to fit in the book.  Sara used to call me Oso (Spanish for Bear) because I'm a pretty bear-like person.  I'm big, lazy, slow, cuddly, normally pretty calm, hairy, etc.  Anyway, Oso was my nickname that only she used.  So to have the audacity to let me catch her with another guy, and then kick back into a lovey-dovey mode, showed that she thought I was easily manipulated (and I guess I was up to this point).

Anyway, she gave me the book.  I unwrapped it, throwing the paper to the ground, and started flipping through it.  On the inside cover, she had written a sweet little note saying that she loved me and that she was going to wait for me and that she was excited to be with me forever.  I pointed at it and loudly said, "Well THAT'S bullshit!!"  And it was.

Then there was another awkward pause.  I even said, "Well this is awkward..."  It was probably a little after 11:30 at this point.  Adam remained on the couch on the other side of the room, I was standing just in front of the front door, with Sara standing close to me (I could have put my arm around her if I wanted to... and then choked her with it).  I asked Sara, "So is this a good time to talk?  You said you were excited to talk to me.  Is this a good time?" knowing full-well that this was probably the worst time in the history of relationships to have a conversation (like I said, I was just making a good story at that point).  Sara looked at me with a look that said, "Please don't do this.  Not now."  But I decided to push the situation even further.

That was MY situation!  That was MY awkwardness!  I OWNED that moment!  MINE!!

Eventually Sara said that it wasn't a good time to talk because her cousin was coming over to show her wedding pictures in a few minutes.

"Your cousin is coming over?" I asked.  "The one that got married a week ago?  The one that just got back from her honeymoon yesterday?  The one that just moved into her new apartment with her husband today?  THAT cousin?  Your newlywed cousin is coming over at midnight to show you pictures from a wedding that happened only a week ago?"

"Um... yes?"


- More awkward silence -

"Alright, then I'd better be going."

From the couch, poor, frightened little Adam decided to finally chime in.  "Bye Brandon!  Sorry for the awkwardness!"

I was halfway out the door at this point, but I poked my head back in and pointed directly at him and said, "Adam, you're lucky I don't kick your ass.  It's taken a lot of self-control not to.  Be grateful" and then left.  I'm pretty sure he crapped himself.

I called Sara on my ride home (it went to voicemail) and said how that was probably the most messed up thing a person could do.  Letting your boyfriend catch you cheating on him?  Making him catch you?  There are few things, romantically, that are lower than that.

So I left on my mission two weeks later.  A few months later, I hear that Sara and Adam are engaged.  They are now married.

The last time Sara and I talked, I told her that she owed me a favor and to tell that dance studio that she worked at that Sarah (Sara 2.0) needed a job.  So Sara talked to the studio (and to Sarah) to set that up.

Sarah, if you ever read this, never say that I didn't do anything for you.

So there you have it.  There's my super traumatic story involving a girl I loved.  I looked into it later, and there is strong evidence to show that her and him had started dating immediately after I left school, and they may have hooked up even before I left.

To this day, I have issues trusting girls (and people in general).

The thing that really gets me about this whole story, though, is that I still had friends going to school in Virginia.  I had friends that were roommates with Sara and that were friends with Adam.  Not a single one of them told me that they had been spending time together.  None of them!  That probably hurt as much as the heartache that I went through.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

New Line of Thinking

I've always been a believer that any thought that you think is not unique and that someone at some point in history has thought the exact same thought.  I think I was proven wrong today when I was sitting in my political theory class.

Professor John said (when commenting about Socrates and Glaucon in Plato's Republic) "I want salvation to make my teeth whiter."


That's when I thought to myself - that's probably the first time anyone has ever had that thought.  This got me thinking.  What other kinds of ridiculous things can I say or think that someone else has never said or thought before?

Drawing unnatural conclusions due to twisted expectations - that's the key.

For example:  I wish my girlfriend would come over so that I can become a space cadet.

See?  New and unique.

Actually, someone may have thought that thought at some point in the past (kinky).

But do you understand what I'm getting at?  Unique thoughts come from ridiculous expectations.  "I need to go take a shower so that the dog across the street will pee on the police man."  Bam.  Unique thought.  I'll bet $20 that no one has ever had that thought before me.  I have just come up with a new and original idea.  It's insane, but so am I.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


I've recently become aware that a lot of people read this that I didn't know read it.  I also discovered the little tool that tells me the stats and how many people view this site every day and which internet browsers you use and which operating system, etc.  I'm concerned with how many of you use Internet Explorer, btw.

I was bored two nights ago (or was it 3?  not sleeping does weird things to time) and decided to send messages to a lot of my friends on Facebook and told them to read my blog (because I like to feel important).  A lot of them replied that they already do and that they've shown it to their roommates and stuff.

So I feel like I need to put this out there:

If I single you out and talk about you or whatever, take it with a grain of salt (whatever that means).  If I say something mean, don't sweat it.  We're still friends.  If I say that I'm interested in you or in your sister or whatever, don't freak out.  I try to avoid saying things here that I wouldn't say directly to someone, but if you feel offended or would prefer that I not talk about you or (actually) change your name or whatever, I'll be more than happy to do so.

I guess what I'm really saying is that I hope no one shows this to Sarah because she will absolutely take my head off and punt it.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Movie Ozone?

I've just found out that my blog is being featured on which I think is pretty cool.  A little strange, though, because I don't think I've reviewed any movies in my blog.  It's not an idea that's out of the question; this thing is a compilation of my un-voiced thoughts.

So here we go.  I'll review a movie to satiate anyone's movie-lusting appetite that happens to click on the little link on Movie Ozone:

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

Kicked total ass.


If Insomnia Had a Face, I'd Punch It

UPDATE:  I've gotten a lot of concerned messages and stuff today.  I've been sleeping all day, I just ate, and now I'm going back to sleep.  Thanks for your thoughts and concern.

This one isn't funny, but some may find it interesting.

I haven't slept in 4 days.  This definitely takes its toll on a person, but I'm told that my thoughts are surprisingly coherent when I can write them down and then edit them for a few hours.  What you're currently reading was most likely worked on all day while I waited for myself to pass out.

I can usually sleep just fine, but there seems to be a week and a half out of every month where I have trouble.  During that week, I have to take my sleep drugs at about 6:00 (so that I can fall asleep by 10:30) because my thoughts are so out of control and fast that it takes forever for the drugs to slow them down.  It's like a bullet train that gets stopped by a rubber band.  During the week and a half, I have frequent feelings of deja vu, and I have trouble walking straight and remembering words.  I'm fine, otherwise.

When this problem first began about 3 years ago, the doctors didn't know what to do.  It didn't help that I was living in a 3rd world country at the time, so I could only talk on the phone with doctors from the states.  They tried treating me for various types of depression and bipolar and paranoia and all that.  They thought that those were the cause of the problem and that insomnia was one of the effects.  My new doctor figured that instead of those being the main problem, they were the symptoms of the problem (with the problem being chronic insomnia).  Turns out he was right.  Once I started sleeping correctly, all the other problems completely went away.  So whenever I take a disorder test after not sleeping, I always get a kick out of the results because it reminds me of the stupid doctors that tried treating the wrong things.

Lots of people wonder what it's like to be awake this long.  Most people can't even say that they've been awake for 2 days.  I can function on a slightly more than basic level on day 2.  However, if you catch me on days 3 or 4 (and very few people do because I keep myself locked in my room), you'll see that even taking care of myself on a basic level is a feat of strength and sheer willpower.

So I started day 4 of no sleep 2 hours ago.  This is what things are like for me:

I'm too tired to make myself fall asleep.  That doesn't make sense to a lot of people, but if you've been awake for longer than is natural, you'll know what I mean.  Your body is under a lot of stress and it's the kind you can't dispel with a fun breathing exercise or pleasantly painful stretching.  I guess your brain has a natural throttle or something in it that keeps all of your thoughts organized and keeps you from overloading yourself (that's how my doctor explains it to me, but I'm not 100% sure if that's just a model used for me to understand it better, or if that's really how it is).  Going without sleep shuts down that throttle so I basically think every thought at the exact same time.  This is remedied by typing out my thoughts (hooray for blogs!), but that's the second best option that I've found.  The best option that I've found is having a girlfriend come over and I cuddle up to them in bed.  It calms down my stressed body and I can focus my thoughts on them.  They get to see a side of me that no one ever gets to see.  I currently have no one to invite over so that one is out of the question.  However, I now have Sarah's number again and keeping myself from calling her out of desperation is starting to sound more and more like a good idea.

I'm sick to my stomach, but I won't throw up.  My body is fully aware that something isn't right, but it knows that it's not something in my stomach.  Me feeling sick to my stomach is most likely due to my brain misfiring signals left and right and the "sick to the stomach" part of the brain is getting hit often enough to make me feel constantly puke-y.  It's like the feeling you get when you have a lot of stomach acid that feels like it's about to boil up, but it never does.  There isn't any more stomach acid than normal.  My brain just can't quite get it right.

Light and sound are painful.  The sound of my quiet space heater next to my bed makes my already significant headache unbearable and the light on the computer screen makes me want to cry.  I'm writing this with the highest decibel rating earplugs I could find on the internet (so I can only hear myself breathe which is ok).  The brightness on the computer is turned all the way down and I'm wearing sunglasses.  In essence, I look ridiculous.

My sense of touch is very very dull.  I can barely feel the little bumps on the F and J keys on my computer so I'm making typing mistakes in nearly every word I type (this is partly why editing this will take me all day).  

My sense of smell is actually heightened, but only to good smells (which is kind of cool).  I can smell my vanilla scented candle from here.  It's on the other side of the room and the steel top is securely covering it.  I have a bowl in here from eating ice cream yesterday that I never took to the kitchen and I can smell the small amount of chocolate syrup that I couldn't get with my spoon.  That's actually pretty sweet, but not enough to make this worth it.

I'm constantly cold.  It doesn't help that I live in an apartment with no insulation and it's 17 degrees outside (plus the store downstairs is closed for the winter, which means its heater isn't on, so none of that heat rises into my apartment).  I just found out that I forgot to turn on my floorboard heater last night after I finished playing my piano, so I guess that's the real source of my problem.  I have my blanket over my shoulders and I have my space heater pointed directly at me and it's two feet away.  I feel my toes start to burn, so I turn it away for a few minutes, only to turn it back.

I have a huge headache (which is partly remedied with the earplugs and sunglasses) and my thoughts are out of control.  I'm basically thinking every thought ever at the exact same time, which keeps me from focusing on one to try and calm stuff down.  I'm constantly worried, but I have nothing to worry about (and when I try to figure out what's worrying me, I forget what I was thinking about).  This is why having a girlfriend to latch onto helps so much. It's a pleasant feeling (magnified by my misfiring brain which leads to me saying some silly things), it's relaxing, and I can focus all of my thoughts on her.  They have fair warning that everything I do and say while under these circumstances can't be taken seriously.  They seem to disregard that warning a few days later and ask me what I really meant when I confessed my undying love to them or accidently called them Sara (which wasn't a problem with Sarah because it's the same name but with an H).  If you get a call from me sometime today and I beg you to come over, please do it and then don't believe anything I say.  Seriously.

Most people ask if I'm on medication.  Yes.  A lot.  I've maxed out on what I'm supposed to take and if I take any more, I risk overdose.  It's tempting, though.  I can understand when people die because they couldn't sleep and took too much medication.  Death might be less painful.  Don't worry, though.  I won't be taking any more.

My mood is all over the place.  I took that mental illness test again (the one that I posted a few days ago) and everything scored as High.  I'll be crying one minute and then raging the next.  I've never hurt anyone (including myself), and I most likely won't.  I keep myself locked in my room just in case.  I'm ok letting girlfriends in because I'll never do anything to physically hurt them.  It's just never been a temptation even when I'm uncontrollably angry.  They're the last thing I'd hurt, and there are an infinite number of things that come before the last thing.

I'm supposed to go to the hospital on day 5.  I can go in before that if I want, but they'll just keep me under observation (very expensive observation).  The hospital is under strict instruction from my doctor to not give me any treatment until day 5.  I guess they have some kind of opiate-based drug that'll put you to sleep within seconds, and then they can closely monitor you as you sleep and give you shots of adrenaline if your heart rate gets too low.  I've had a problem with a certain opiate-based drug in the past which is why I can't go in until day 5 (which I guess is when things become extremely dangerous).  It'll most likely resurface that problem and then I'll have to deal with that all over again.  But it's never gotten to that point.  If the past is any indicator, I should fall asleep in the next 4 or 5 hours.

So what now?  I wait.  I just sit here and wait for my brain to shut off and then I'll slip into the deepest and surprisingly pleasant sleep you can possibly imagine and I'll stay like that for like a day, waking up only when my body senses the need to pee or drink.  When I miss a week of classes and then I tell my professors it was because I couldn't sleep, they rarely understand what that really means, so then I have to go in during their office hours and explain everything and show them the notes from my doctor and all that.  At this point, I think Southern Virginia University should just automatically email them and tell them what to expect with me in their class.

Anyway, that's what's going on right now.  I'll update if I have any other thoughts I feel like sharing.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Things that start with "victor"


Well the moment came.  Just like I predicted.  I'm sitting playing games on my computer last night (because I figured out how to emulate Gamecube games, so I've been doing that all weekend), and I get a text from an unknown number.  It said, "Heyyy"  It was obviously from a friend, but I most likely lost their number when I reset my phone.  I didn't want them to know that I didn't know who it was, so I just went along with what a standard conversation looks like:

THEM:  Heyyy
ME:  Hey. What's up?
THEM:  Nothin much.  Just chillin at mi casa.  You?
ME:  Writing a song.  (I was actually playing video games, but I hate admitting that to people)
THEM:  That's cool. what about??  (I don't know why people use two ?s when one gets the job done just fine)
ME:  It's a song that Victoria and I started writing last week about 2 people keeping each other warm.
THEM:  Sweet.  Sounds pretty cool. lol

I finally figured that they weren't going to give me any hints as to who they were, so I just straight up asked.

ME:  I don't mean to be rude or anything, but who is this?

And here we go.  The golden moment:

THEM:  Sarah [last name]... jerk

BAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!  The moment came far sooner than I thought it would.  I got to do the "who is this?" text!  I might be childish and mean, but it's nice to finally do that to someone.  I've had it done to me before and I couldn't wait to unleash it on someone else from the very first time it happened.

Btw, I knew exactly who it was because it was a 712 number and google told me that was the area code for Sioux City, which is where she's from.  I'm an ass.

Anyway, the conversation was small talk until she said she had a question for me.  Then she asked if we were friends because she couldn't tell.  In my mind I thought "No" but I said "I dunno. What does being friends mean?"  She never answered the question.  Instead she was just like "I'll leave you alone now" but I really wanted to know what she thought being friends meant.

If by "being friends" she means saying hi to each other as we pass each other on the sidewalk, then sure.  We can be friends.  If she means hanging out for an extended period of time in close proximity, then no.  We can't be friends.  We don't run in the same social circle, so we can't be friends by association.  You know those people that hang out with you in the same group of people, but you'd never call them up and hang out with them alone?  Yeah.  We can't do that because we don't have the same friends.

I'll go ahead and admit, if she were to be like, "Hey, I'm really sorry.  I didn't pay any attention to you and I'll fix that.  Can we date again?"  I'd probably say yes.  I really liked her, but things just never got moving.

Anyway, she never answered me on the "what being friends means" question, so I just went ahead and explained my thoughts on the situation:

"I guess I'll just go ahead and explain my side.  You said that I expected your life to be centered around me, but that's not true.  I would have been happy with just a piece.  You never had time to hang out with me anymore but you always had time to hang out with Yiselle or Jessie.  I never really asked for more than what you gave them.  If you and I did hang out, it was only for like an hour.  We stopped talking about stuff.  I would come over and you'd play on your computer or talk about harry potter.  We started out as good friends and then you just sort of stopped.  Even if we ignore that we liked each other, you were kind of a crappy friend.  If that'll change, then sure, we can be friends.  If not, then I'd rather not bother.  Up to you."

A little strong, I know, but I think I presented my thoughts pretty well for a text message.  She got a little defensive and I don't blame her; I made a pretty direct statement and she's 19, so she acted like she was 19.

I'm not good at being friends with people after I break up with them.  My experience has been that I always end up hooking up with them again and then regretting it.  I can't think of a single example where I've stayed friends with an ex outside of the occasional text saying "happy birthday" or something like that.  I just can't do it.  I don't suddenly stop caring about the person, and being around them without being with them is way more emotional stress than I really want to deal with.

I don't know if this is how it is with other people, but after I stop dating someone, that fascination that I had with them never really goes away.  You know?  That feeling that you got when you looked at them?  Sure, it dies down a little, but it never totally fades.

Anyway, we ended our conversation when I said that I didn't like discussing serious things over texting and asked her if we could talk in person.  She said yes.  I asked when.  She said sometime this weekend.  I don't intend on texting her to figure out when and I know her well enough to know that she won't do it either.

From what I can tell, she's dating another guy.  He and her were cuddling up to each other at the basketball game today (who cuddles at a basketball game?  that's the time to yell at stuff!).  I really like the guy; he's a good kid and I think he'll take good care of her.  I don't want to stress him out with being around her; especially when she's saying that she misses talking to me and stuff.  If I didn't like him, then I wouldn't care, but I do like him.  The world needs more respect.

So basically, the whole thing felt like a victory to me.  I got to do the "who is this?" text and I told her what I thought of her friendship.  And it's true, we were great friends at first (as well as pretty romantic) and then she was a really crappy friend.  If it can go back to the good friend part, then great.  If not, then I'm not even gonna bother.

And speaking of things that start with "victor", I just invited Victoria to the Shenanigans movie night tonight.  That's a big deal.  That's the equivalent of meeting someone's family.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Uh oh

I stumbled upon this little test earlier today:

Paranoid Disorder:High
Schizoid Disorder:Moderate
Schizotypal Disorder:Low
Antisocial Disorder:Moderate
Borderline Disorder:Moderate
Histrionic Disorder:High
Narcissistic Disorder:High
Avoidant Disorder:Low
Dependent Disorder:Low
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:Low

-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --
-- Personality Disorders --

Take from that what you will.  Keep in mind that I didn't sleep last night, so the results are definitely skewed - especially the paranoid one.


Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Factory Resets and Songs

I think I spend the majority of my free time endlessly searching for blogs on the internet with no real purpose in mind.  I'll read about anything.  Yesterday I learned something about food that I've already forgotten.  There are a lot of people out there that feel they have something to say.  A lot of them really do and are very interesting about it.  I found one called "Dating is Miserable" and I really like it.  It's about a girl that lives in San Francisco and hates dating.  I'm from San Francisco and I hate dating, too (italicizing just one letter feels weird)!  Also, if you've never read it, Hyperbole and a Half will make you lol and rofl left and right.  It's a bunch of stories from a girl's past and she draws funny pictures to emphasize funny points.  I read it during my Macroeconomics class last semester.

Lately, my blog has been less about conversations I have with imaginary people and more about my dating woes (with a random post about homosexual adoption... where did that even come from?).  Write what you know, I guess.  I know that women are crazy.  Not me.  Them.

Funny thing:

If you've been reading the last few posts that I've made, you know that I've recently gone through a severing of a loose emotional connection with another person.  I'd label it as a breakup, but I'd hardly call what we did dating.  I'm still not sure which word to use when labeling what's going on, but breakup is too strong.  What we have here is two people who were slightly more than just friends, and then one decided they didn't want to be friends anymore.  That's not a falling out because there wasn't really a fight right before it.  It's not a separation because that implies the possibility of getting back together.  I dunno.  Basically, she was a crappy "more than a friend" as well as a crappy "friend" so she got axed.

Actually, there's a much bigger reason than that, but it's a fundamental flaw in how I trust (or don't trust) people and it's something I'm not willing to go into right now.  But the above reason still stands.  It was like being friends with a teenage girl.  Oh wait.

Back on track with the previous thought:

When we first met, we were definitely dating, but that quickly trailed off.  I told her to go away.  I think my exact words were "I think I'm done with you," which, I admit, is a little insulting, but it needed to be done. I later got an angry-ish text from her saying that anything she does isn't good enough for me.  That would be true if she ever did anything for me.

I wondered what she meant, so I asked.  She first responded with a childish "I shouldn't have to tell you" ...which is right - she doesn't HAVE to tell me, but why say it if you're not willing to explain it?  So I told her she didn't have to tell me, but it would be nice to know if it was a mistake that I should avoid in the future.  She said that she was always apologizing to me and that I expected her life to be centered around me and a bunch of other stuff I can't remember.  I disagree with her.  She was always apologizing because she was always doing something stupid (such as playing on Facebook and not talking to me after she invited me over or talking indefinitely to her friends about Harry Potter when her and I were supposed to have a night out).  As far as me expecting her life to be centered around me, that's not entirely true (but it kind of is).  I would have been fine with just a portion of her life.  As it stood, she was always saying that she was too busy to be with me, but would always find time to be with her other friends.  You'd think that after 4 months of dating, a shift in priority would have taken place.  It didn't.  She thinks I was being selfish and I think that if I were Yiselle or Jessie, she would have been more than happy to make out with me. Anyway, that's not the funny thing that I was going to say.

This is the funny thing I was going to say:  I have a Droid Eris (haha).  One thing this little phone is capable of is storing about 8gb of information.  It has a pretty large hard drive for how small the device is.  However, whoever made the damned thing forgot to put in a stable operating system and a little processing power.

Sarah (aka Sara 2.0 - another post for another day) and I had exchanged about 4000 text messages since we met in September (2000 of those were in the first week or two) and there was about 8000 messages in total saved on my phone.  My phone automatically saves every single one of them.  I don't care if text messages are saved; I rarely go back and read them.  When I do, it's because I was drugged one night and I don't quite remember what I said.  Anyway, when you combine thousands of text messages with an unstable operating system and a weak processor, it turns out you are unable to delete those messages no matter how nicely you ask.  The stupid thing freezes up!

It's kind of a vicious cycle.  When I get too many text messages, I want to delete them.  When I want to delete them, I can't delete them.  But if I had deleted them before there were too many, it would have worked.  But I don't think to delete them if I don't have too many.  So basically, once I pass a certain point, I am doomed to fill up my hard drive to the brim with useless text messages.  It's beyond my will.  It's also beyond the scope of logic.  It's also beyond the scope of the gun I have pointed at the CEO's head.

I look forward to the day this phone dies.

I wanted to delete every text message from Sarah and then delete her number from my phone.  It's a pretty simple idea, but apparently it's an extremely complicated action.  I'd try and the phone would crash.

So I looked on the internet for a while and someone was talking about an app that deletes all your text messages.  Great! I thought.  I downloaded it and pushed the "ERASE ALL" button.  I kid you not, it took like 3 minutes to delete 10 texts.  Of the 8000 total that I wanted to delete, that would have taken several weeks to delete all those messages.  So I was stuck in a weird place.  I could delete Sarah's number but not her messages, meaning that if I were feeling especially lonely one night, I would still be able to text her.  I didn't want this to happen, so I had to do something drastic:  I did a factory reset on my phone.

Why be rational when you can be drastic?

Why man the hell up when you can do a factory reset?

Essentially, what that meant was that I could delete all the messages quickly, delete her number, but it would cost me everything else stored on my phone.  I weighed the opportunity cost (which was self-loathe) and I decided it was worth it.  Now I have very few phone numbers in my phone and I had to spend forever putting the settings back to how I like them.  BUT, I no longer have her number and don't have to worry about trying to text her in a moment of weakness.  Plus, if she texts me, I get to say "Who is this?" which always feels like a triumph when dealing with someone you don't want to keep in contact with.

I would delete her from my Facebook, but the chances of me running into her in the near future are pretty much 100% and she would definitely call me out on it.  I'll still keep considering it, but I'm not sure it'll happen.

So once again, you are brought up to date on my romantic life.

Ok, I just lied, there are other things going on.

We'll start with the girl I went out with last week.  For the sake of keeping her name anonymous (lest someone should read this and then go tell her), we will call her Victoria.

Victoria caught my eye because a friend of mine told me to let Victoria catch my eye.  This friend has a pretty good understanding of what kind of person I am, so I decided to trust her.  Good choice.  I don't normally like girls that others try to set me up with, but I figured this time might be different.  Why?  Don't ask me such difficult questions.

One night, I was over at my friend's house and Victoria was there (along with other people).  It came that time where everyone simultaneously gets up and decides it's time to go even though no one mentioned anything about it.  Victoria said she needed a ride home, so I was quick in offering a ride.  We sat around and chatted for a bit longer, and then I drove her home.  It turns out she's really cool, so I asked her for her phone number.  She said her phone wasn't working, so I should just "friend" her on Facebook.  So I did.

I just realized that Facebook has been the avenue for most of my dates since moving out to this god-indoctrinated romantic wasteland.

Anyway, it turns out that Victoria doesn't have a computer either, so sending a Facebook message takes half an eternity to get to her.  I manage to communicate to her that a date on Saturday would be a good thing and she agrees.  I picked her up at 8.

We went and got frosties (which I now understand is ridiculous to do when it's 20 degrees outside).  Then we went to the ice cream store that I live above (the one that's closed for the winter.  I got the key from Nate), hooked my keyboard and computer up to the sound system, and wrote a song.

It turns out that we are both very sexually-minded people.  There was definitely that undertone of "is this a hint, or just a song?"  I'll show you what I mean.  The song has a girl and guy part and it's about keeping each other warm.  We chose this theme because it was really cold in the ice cream store (see how that can be interpreted?).  The song has a classic jazz/blues sound to it:

Girl:  Baby, I'm shivering.  Why aren't you here with me?  You're so good at keeping me warm.
Guy:  Honey, don't worry.
Girl:  Oh please, won't you hurry?
Guy:  I'm coming to keep you warm.  The thought of cold lips leaves me so blue.
Girl:  When you get home I'll show you just what to do.
Guy:  I don't know what you're planning tonight.
Girl:  You've got nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.Guy:  Then come on, baby.  You're a beautiful sight.  You're cold and I'm feeling bold.  We're gonna sizzle all night.
Together:  Just you and me entangled in the twilight.

Can you see what I'm getting at, here?  Is that just a song, or is that both of us subtly telling the other person that we want to get it on?  I'm still not sure.  Would I have made out with her?  Maybe.  But there was little physical touch throughout the night, and going from "0" to "makeout" is a little too jolting for me.  I like me some lovin, but I'm not disrespectfully desperate.

Anyway, we had a lot of fun.  At the end of the night, I walk her up to the front door and she says (something to the effect of), "We'll do it again sometime?"  I'm not an expert in linguistics, especially with the female dialect, but I assume that means she would like to go out with me again sometime.

Now comes the post-date stuff.  I saw her the next day at church.  We didn't talk.  She did, however, make a comment in the class I was teaching and halfway through her comment she began to giggle.  Whether she began to giggle because she thought what she was saying was funny, or because I was staring directly at her, I don't know.  Then, to wrap up her comment, she said that Jesus was cute.  Any joke I can make most likely won't top what you're thinking right now, so I won't even try to top it.

Anyway, what with her not having a phone and all, I send her yet another Facebook message saying, "This is the equivalent of a phone call the day after a date."  I said that I had a good time and that I look forward to doing it again in the near future.

I assume that she sent back her reply on a phone with a very small on-screen keyboard because she is far smarter than that message would lead you to believe.  That's one thing I hate about the world evolving into text-based communication.  The most intelligent and well-spoken people I've ever met are reduced to "Lol, r u gong 2 teh show aftr dis rofl"  What is that?  What would your second grade teacher do to you if she ever saw that?  There's not even a question mark at the end.  You know what I want to do when I see that?  Hmm?  Kill you.  That's what.

Anyway, what she sent back wasn't exactly articulate, but it got the job done.

Hold on, my roommate is on the phone and he just mentioned the name of a girl I'm interested in...

False alarm.  I mean...  he did mention her name, but not for the reason I was hoping.

Ok.  Back on track with our last thought.  See, this is difficult for me because that was like 15 minutes, but for you reading it was like 10 seconds, so now I have to gather my thoughts.  Ummm... date... sexual song... cold... wasteland... Facebook... ah.  Ok.  Yes.  I know where we are, now.

There will likely be a second date with Victoria.  As it stands right now, I'm not head over heels crazy for her, but I can definitely see myself having feelings for her.  How strong?  I dunno.  I guess I'll see where it goes.

Wait a minute.  Isn't your head always over your heels?  Isn't that a normal state of being?  Head over heels?  What does that even mean?

Beyond Victoria, there is a girl that I'm definitely interested in, and I get the feeling that she's interested in me.  The problem is that for the last little while, we've been playing a game of emotional chicken.  We'll start coming at each other and then one of us will bail out at the last second and say something to ruin it.  I don't know why, but it's a scary thing!  There isn't enough going on there to justify a blog post, though, so I won't go into it in too much detail.  I'll just say that on Sunday she told me that if I were on my death bed and she had one thing to say to me, she would ask me why we never hung out.  That's gotta count for something, right?  Of course, I'd most likely die before I got to answer and then she'd spend the rest of her life wondering what I would have said.  That sounds like it would be a good movie.

There's another girl that I see walking around campus from time to time that is EXTREMELY cute.  I don't know much about her beyond that.  I have this friend, Caitlin.  Her and I talk about dating a lot and we always try to help each other out.  She recently started dating a guy that she spent the last 4 months hating (I don't know why).  She has since disappeared from the face of the earth.  I tried to send her in to see if she could get any info or anything on the cute girl.  Caitlin responded with "DO YOUR OWN WORK!!"  Caitlin is a bitch when she has a boyfriend.  I don't even care if she reads this.  Caitlin, you're a bitch.

Ok.  I think that brings us up to speed on my romantic escapades.

Outside of that, things in my life have been constant.  Yesterday, I got a threat left on my windshield from the owner of the Italian restaurant next door that told me to stop parking my car in front of his store all day.  My car was parked in the stall that's in front of both where I live and his place; it splits the two buildings.  Sometimes I wish I didn't have morals.  I'd set his restaurant on fire with one of those molotov cocktails I see in the movies.  Then I'd set off a pipe bomb inside the wine store down the street.  Then I'd be satisfied.

I'm not allowed to park my car on the street for longer than two hours, anyway.  So now I guess I'm just going to park my car on the side street from now on.

Now it's time for me to go do statistics homework until my facial orifices bleed.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011


Living in a strong religious community has its drawbacks.  Aside from not being able to date a girl with tattoos and piercings everywhere (mmm... love those sooo much), there isn't a lot of variance in ideas.  People are afraid of outside ideas.

I was recently talking with someone about homosexuals adopting children.  Well, I guess she was talking to me about it.  There was a group of people listening, but she was mainly the one speaking and I was mainly the one listening.  I just sat and listened quietly because I knew my views would absolutely violate everything she and everyone else in the group thought they stood for.

Probably the strongest points that were made were religious.  Being a mormon, she believes that families remain together after death.  In order to do that, a ritual must be done which then allows this to happen.  The ritual must have a father and a mother, and then children if there are any.  The children are allowed to be adopted.  But the parents have to be opposite genders.  This is why mormons are so strongly against gay marriage.  They believe that ultimate happiness comes from being with one's family for eternity.  It's an idea that sucks if you hate your family, but for the most part, I find it comforting.

Anyway, she said that homosexuals adopting children prevents children from having a family that they could be with forever because two people of the same gender can't go through the ritual together.  However, these are children that most likely won't be finding families.  These are children that belong to the state, and as far as I know, there is no room in the ritual for a government.  So yes, the ideal situation would be that kids go into traditional families with good parents and things go from there, but the sad reality is that they don't.  If every mormon couple adopted a baby, then the problem would be solved.  But that isn't happening.

She also argued that children are negatively impacted by growing up with two fathers or two mothers because of the lack of exposure to the other gender.  At the time, I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure if that was true or not.

If it were true, then of course we wouldn't want to be placing children into harmful situations.

I looked into it.

Out of the 12 studies I've read, 10 say that there is no measurable effect on a child in any way (this also means that the child is not influenced to be homosexual or heterosexual).  One of the two that reported that there was a negative impact was Fox News, which is notoriously biased and not reliable, and they said that the kids were more likely to be bullied at school.  So no, it doesn't appear that children are negatively impacted by having two parents of the same gender.  Children that have two parents that work are more negatively impacted by that than by having two homosexual parents.  And guess what!  In order to adopt, constant care must be proven, which means there's always a parent nearby.

Those were the stronger arguments that she gave.  One was a religious view that was only partially explored, and the other was an assumption that happens to be incorrect.  Now for my ideas:

I don't see homosexuals adopting children as the problem.  I think our animosity is misplaced.  Where are these children coming from?  Irresponsible heterosexual couples that couldn't keep it in their pants, couldn't keep the child, or had their child taken away.  So now we have all these children with no one to love them or take care of them.

When you look at it from that angle, homosexuals are the solution, not the problem.  These are good people trying to do good things.  Is it the ideal solution?  From a religious standpoint, no.  Is it the best solution we currently have?  I would say yes.  As long as they meet all of the standards set out by the adoption agencies, these are good people to be raising children.

I can promise you that not a single one of those children was abandoned by a homosexual.

Our animosity is misplaced.  It shouldn't be directed towards the people trying to solve the problem.  It should be directed at the irresponsible or selfish heterosexual couples that are creating the problem.

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Psychology of a Breakup (Part 2)

So things this semester have been moving along.  I actually started a blog post about my semester so far, but then I did other stuff.  Unfortunately, the things I wrote were time sensitive, so now I can't post it without it being kind of strange-sounding.  Basically, I had a bunch of predictions and expectations that have already taken place, so predicting something that has already happened is a little useless (but a self-esteem booster considering I'd be right 100% of the time).  I have dozens of posts like that.

You just read a paragraph about predicting the past.

I've been sick, so I missed classes on Friday (which is ok because it's just syllabus day anyway).  I've been meeting my goal of being in bed by 10:30 and waking up at 6:30.  Things have been going well.  The advantage to this sickness is that my voice is all messed up.  For some reason, I really like that.  People don't expect me to speak, and when I do, they all listen very closely.  Plus I just think it sounds really freaking cool.  I wish my voice sounded like this all the time.  It's all deep and scratchy.  Mmmm...

Enough with the chit chat (or "shit chat" as one of my friends thought it was called until like a week ago).

There's this unspoken competition that couples go through after a breakup.  Whoever gets in another relationship faster wins.  Why is it this way?  I dunno.

The problem is that you want to win gracefully.  It's bad form to openly rub it in the other person's face.  If they're abusive or whatever, then yeah. Have at it.  But most of the time, it's not like that.

 You need to be careful how you go about it, though.  Here are the steps I go through after a breakup (and they seem to be universally followed in one way or another):

Keep in mind that what I'm currently going through is very loosely defined as a breakup because at the end of our brief time "together", there wasn't much of a relationship left to break.

I start first with a question:  Why is it called a breakup?  In divorce law, a breakdown of the relationship must be proven before the legal breakup (divorce) happens.  Wait a minute... if something goes down and then goes back up (in this case, the breaking), shouldn't it be in the position that it was in originally?  I mean... the terms don't specify how much up or down has taken place, but I think it's safe to assume that there is an element of neutrality and cancelation taking place here.  We should call it a breakdownevenmore.  Or maybe breakupalot.  Both would work.  But not at the same time.  One or the other.  You can't have your cake and eat it too.  Unless you have a freaking ton of cake.

"Up" has a positive connotation attached to it.  Breakup, when considering that point, doesn't sound so bad.  If your car broke up, that would be a... um... well... ok.  I guess that would be more scary than a breakdown.  The point I wanted to make is that you would be happy, but I guess pieces of your car coming apart on the freeway until you're left with nothing more than a steering wheel and a seat isn't exactly a good thing.  Darn you, idioms!  I'm gonna have to think of a better example.  Hopefully by the end of this post, I'll be able to come back up and edit one in.


First, I have to accept that I cared about the person and those feelings don't suddenly stop.  That means that the next few weeks are gonna suck.  The last two weeks have been suckage.  That word makes my face all funny.  It sounds gross.  Say it out loud.  What did your face look like?  Suckage.  See?

Directly after a breakup, I have to actively restrain myself from keeping in contact with the other person.  I have a history of returning to a smoldering relationship and setting it ablaze again, only to change my mind a few weeks later and piss on the fire (and I'll often follow this pattern for several months or even years).  It's really not fair to do that to a person, so for their sake, I try to avoid it.  With the advent of Facebook, this makes it difficult.  Especially since I can sit and look at pictures of them.  If they're cute, it's hard to remember that being with them sucked.  I also have to avoid making status updates that are directly about them.  Even something that I think is vague wouldn't fly because they know me well enough to know what I'm really saying.  So I have to stick with simple posts such as "I am sick" or "I am happy" or "A person shouldn't be able to produce this much mucus off of such a small amount of nutrition."  You know.  Neutral things.  Things people can relate to.

The general rule of thumb that I live by is this:  The time you wait to date someone else is equal to half of the time that was spent in the previous relationship.  Written formulaically (I'm like 30% percent unsure I used that word correctly):

(.5(relationship time))=grace period

So I dated the girl for 4 months.  I now wait 2 months to start dating another girl.  That's sometimes not the case when I already have a girl waiting on the sidelines (which I currently don't).  So I guess the bare minimum rule is 2 weeks.  Anything shorter than that, and you're accused of leaving one girl for the other (which may be true, but it definitely hurts your reputation).

Now we get to the good part.  There is this unspoken competition that whoever finds another person to date first wins.  I don't know why.  It's a pride thing, I guess.  It's like a game of "I'm so attractive that I don't need your attention."  I've only been dumped once (and technically, I was the one that dumped her, but it was while her tongue was in my roommate's throat), so I don't know what it's really like to be on the other side of a breakup  But from the dumper's side (haha), it sucks when the other person moves on faster because it feels like they weren't devastated enough by my rejection.  It's childish, I know, but that's how it is.  No matter how I try to convince myself that the competition doesn't exist and that as I get older it becomes more and more childish and stupid and that a mature person would just move on, I just can't.

I think it's mainly an addiction to that love feeling.  People literally become addicted to the feeling.  Like they literally show signs of withdrawal similar to those of hard drugs.  That's why you see some people bounce from relationship to relationship so quickly.  It's not because they're more attractive than other people.  It's because they need to fuel their addiction.  Anyone can find a relationship at any time.  It's not difficult to find someone to date, you just have to be willing to compromise some of your standards.  So when the other person in the breakup moves on faster, it's like they're getting their fix and you're not and that sucks.  Imagine you're addicted to heroin, then suddenly you have no heroin and you are going through withdrawal, then some dude walks by with like a kilo of heroin in his hand.  It's like that feeling.

From what I can tell, I'm losing, but only barely.

I'm not desperate to be in another relationship.  I do like that relationshippy feeling, but over the last few years I've done a pretty good job of creating a life for myself that doesn't have much room for another person.  It's probably a direct result of the devastating breakup that I mentioned earlier (catching the girlfriend making out).  Fears from that definitely carry over into my current habits.  Any sign of insecurity or loss of control freaks me out and I bail.  Not just in relationships.  In any social situation.  But this blog post isn't about my inner workings.  It's about post-breakup behavior.

Rebounds are ok with me.  I don't see anything wrong with those.  Great relationships have come from rebounds.  As long as the rebounderee (which sounds Australian) is ok with it.  I've dated girls in the past and after like a month I found out that I'm a rebound and I wasn't ok with it, so I dumped them.  There are other times when I knew right-out and I was fine with it.  Full disclosure, people.  That's all I ask for.

And a pony.  I ask for that, too.

Darn you, Santa!

After a breakup, I inevitably watch High Fidelity.  I highly suggest it to anyone that can tolerate the eff word and a slightly uncomfortable sex scene where no indecent body parts are exposed.  Watching the movie isn't a conscious decision on my part.  I just recently noticed that I even do that (choose to watch it.  not watching it.  two different things).  I don't really have desires to watch that movie unless a breakup has taken place in the last few weeks.  When I was dating like crazy like two years ago, that movie got watched a lot.  During that time, I thought that maybe it was my favorite movie.  Nope.  Just going through a lot of breakups.  There's just something comforting about watching a guy make a list of the top 5 breakups in his life and then rehashing the past with those top 5.

My turn.

5.  Megan McGinty
4.  Anne-Marie Brown
3.  Emily Allan
2.  Michelle Erwin
1.  Sara King

That was anything but therapeutic.

The only one that has yet to be rehashed is Megan.  And I probably never will.  Not for any particular reason.  There's just no reason.  And the closest I came to rehashing anything with Sara was when I told her to go to hell after she cheerfully wished me happy birthday.  What a bitch.

The other 3 have been rehashed plenty of times.  It's never pleasant, but sometimes it results in a good makeout.  Followed by a period of self-loathing and guilt.  Give and take, I suppose.  You give, and I take.

I just realized that every girl on that list is either married or in a serious relationship.  Balls.  I'm losing big time.

Anyway, that pretty much brings us up to speed on my current status in this (loosely defined) breakup.

Thursday, January 6, 2011


Today I fly back to Virginia.  I went to update my Facebook status and say "Headed..." but then I didn't know what to put there.  Home?  Back to school?  To Virginia?

For some reason it was a difficult decision.  It got me wondering: Where do I say home is?

I grew up in Oakland California (just outside, but when I say Walnut Creek, people don't know where that is).  I spent 18 years here (I'm currently in the Oakland airport).  I don't really miss it.  I grew up with a pretty solid group of people.  Each and every person in my high school graduating class was destined for success.  That's just how it was.  I never thought much of it until my teachers started saying that our senior class was amazing.  Then I went to school and heard other people talk about their senior classes and they sounded pathetic.

Not only were we all destined for success, we were all very good looking.  That's not a joke.  I've had friends flip through my yearbook and they always comment on how good looking everyone is.  I think back on it and they're right.  Even the most obscure person that sits in the back of the classroom was pretty good-looking.

So then I move away from California.  First, I move to Utah.  I hate living in Utah.  It just isn't my place.  I'd like to say that I can understand how a person could like that place, but i really can't.  It sucks.  I don't like the huge mountains or the desert or anything about it.  I lived in Utah for a year, and then moved to Virginia for school.  I love Virginia.  Then I moved back to California for almost a year.  Then I moved to the Dominican Republic for a year.  Then my family moved from California to Utah.  Then I moved from the Dominican Republic to Utah.  I stayed in Utah for a little over a year.  Now I live in Virginia.

So you can understand the confusion.  I would say that California is my home, but my family doesn't live there (here?).  I haven't really kept in contact with my friends from high school outside of being their Facebook friends and hiding their status updates from my front page thingy.  I don't like Utah, but that's where my family is.  At the same time, I can't call Utah home because I didn't grow up there and because I'm 25 which makes me think that I'm a little old to call wherever my family moves home.

Out of all the places I've lived, my favorite is where I live in Virginia.  But if I call Virginia my home, I'm afraid of offending my mother because I have a history of being unknowingly insensitive, so now I compensate by being overly sensitive.  Plus I didn't grow up here and my family doesn't live here.  Bah.  Confusing.

In reality, Virginia really is my home.  I have nothing to return to in California (besides my nieces), I don't like Utah and I didn't grow up there, and the Dominican Republic doesn't count because that place was a total and complete nightmare that I wouldn't wish upon even its residents.

But yeah... That's what I thought when I went to update my Facebook status.  I settled by just saying "Airplane."