The Ninth Potion

I was on a date in August. We were having a good time and found ourselves sitting on my couch, talking. The two of us started asking each other more probing questions, the kind you ask when you're trying to get to know someone on a deeper level¹. She asked me if I had ever been in love. I told her, truthfully, that I had not been. She asked me why. Now, I could just as soon tell you why I'm right handed. Some things just are.

What struck me was the way she said it, as though she either was not sure if I was telling the truth or if she could not believe the truth. How could I not have been in love? It's easier to believe, I suppose, when you're better apprised of my, ahem, romantic history. I haven't been in love simply because I have yet to have a legitimate chance to do so.

The story is well-worn by now: Bad decisions, bad breaks, a little heartbreak. I won't bore you with the retelling. However, it does seem a little unusual: How many Americans around my age haven't had the experience in any capacity, not even as a high schooler. I do not consider this a bad thing².

To say I've been in love before means, essentially, that I have failed in love. What could be worse than being in love and having that not succeed?³ I don't want “prior experience” in love. I want to say “I love you” to one single person. I want to experience and learn love for the first time, the only time, with the person that experiences it with me only. It sounds crazy and perhaps a little too idealistic, but you can't get to the moon⁴ unless you try.

I haven't been in love. I will be, though, and that's not something I'm going to need to explain to anyone⁵.

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1 A personal favorite: Arwen or Eowyn?

2 Even if it does make me look inexperienced in some weird way.

3 With the possible exception of sucking out on a one-outer on the river.

4 And I want to set up camp in the Sea of Tranquility, to be as cheesy as possible.

5 Unless they want to know how storybook it is. In that case, I'll be happy to tell them.

A Couple More Football Thoughts

Something I didn't really think about is that there really isn't anything to watch on Sunday afternoon if you're not going to watch football¹. I'll consider it a nudging from God to read more.

My cousin Logan is seven. He's pretty big for a kid his age². His father, Scott, is one of those insane sport parents. For instance: Logan was playing basketball a couple years ago and there was a kid who was scoring on Logan a lot, apparently. Scott's solution? To tell Logan to knock the kid over. Being a good kid, Logan did as his dad told him, plowed through the child, and got kicked out of the game. Crying commenced.

Scott has Logan playing football. Being a big boy, Logan plays on the line. One day before a game, the coach said to him, “Are you gonna play football today, or are you going to be a little bitch?³” I would have removed the man's vocal cords. But did anybody say anything? No, because that's football. That's just how it is. I mean, seriously. This is out of control, and we need to get a grip. We need to say it's unacceptable to call little kids a bitch. Sports do not make it acceptable.

Oh, by the way, Logan doesn't want to play football anymore. He says it's not fun. I wonder why? He may be big enough to be a football player one day, but he's a sweet kid that just likes to giggle and goof around. This is not something to be discouraged.

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1 Unless I develop an interest in pro bowling. In that case, I'm set.

2 Or even for a 10-year-old. I can barely pick him up anymore.

3 May I remind you that he is SEVEN YEARS OLD?

A Quick Plea

Dear Conan O'Brien,

Please stop talking about how you're moving to "The Tonight Show." All you're doing is depressing us who do not want to see you move to Los Angeles and stop being funny. Furthermore, you're reminding us that the comedy black hole known as Jimmy Fallon will be replacing you. Not even The Roots can save that guy.

If the Glove Fits

Whenever I had done something for the first time with a girl- put my arm around her, hug her, etc.- I got an immediate spike in excitement, like I had accomplished a mission or something. "Yes! Success!"

I expected the same with you. Suffice to say, I was surprised. I'm not saying I did not get a thrill out of it. I always do. But when our hands met the first time, it came with a feeling of serenity. I felt like this was the way it always should be and just had not known it, as thought it were some cosmic truth that did not reveal itself to me until that moment. I had to keep looking down at our intertwined fingers to make sure it was real. To think I was amused by your nervous fidgeting beforehand! When your hand left mine, even for a few moments, it was though a part of me had become lost. I marveled at the perfect way our hands fit each other.

And when we kissed during the sunrise, a total movie moment, the rest of the world dissolved away. All that existed was us. I can remember your every movement. It was though I had found something I didn't know I was looking for, but now that I've found it, I can't go without.

Also, what you wrote to me the next day was the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me. Just the very thought of it- or of you!- is intoxicating.

It's Not Me, It's You...

...well, maybe it's me a little.

Here's the thing: I used to love football. I lived for Sunday¹ and spending the day watching guys in bright helmets run around the gridiron all day. I would bury myself in the draft every spring. I didn't miss a playoff game. Football. The pigskin. A man's² game. I didn't come to it as early as I came to hockey, basketball, or baseball, but darn it if I didn't fall in love with it. Monday Night Football! Brilliant! Heck, when the Browns left Cleveland, I didn't even miss a beat, adopting the Carolina Panthers in the meantime. When the Browns returned, I felt the excitement and decided I needed to be a part of that.

And it was fun, even watching the Brownies lose week after week. Baseball had become boring and the Penguins were so bad, it was painful³. But football was always there!

I'm not sure when things started to turn. I think it was when a player for the Eagles died and even though he was in his 40s, he took so much abuse he had the brain of a man twice his age. Maybe it was when Jerome Bettis said he felt like the game took years off his life. I started to think. Around that time, it seemed like every other player in the NFL was sustaining some horrible injury. What was I watching, exactly? These guys, insane athletes, were crashing into each other with violent force hundreds of times a game. They were quite literally killing themselves one play at a time. When you realize that, it's not a whole lot of fun to watch.

Plus, the NFL comes out with all these rules about celebrations. It's dumb. It's a game, guys. If Chad Johnson wants to do a riverdance, let him. I enjoy watching it. And lest we forget, we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves, right? Right? I suppose these rules stem from the general arrogance that comes from the game these days. Football demands you follow it. It is the “greatest sport in the galaxy,” and that should be enough for you, as one executive put it. Tell someone you don't like football⁴. See if they keep talking to you. It's crazy.

Eventually, I realized that these guys are killing each other for what amounts to a game that is actually pretty lame. Think about it: They huddle for 30 seconds, run a play for about four seconds, then huddle up again. It's so slow. Then there is timeout after timeout after timeout. What's so fun about it?

I think what kept me going was my devotion to the Browns I liked being a part of a fanbase so passionate, so devoted. These people filled the stadium even in terrible seasons. I never liked college football⁵. It's like pro football, only played incompetently. However, my general ambivalence toward the sport started to chip away at my fandom. When “fans” cheered Derek Anderson getting hurt, that was it for me. I turned my card in. The Browns got crushed by the Titans this week, and I didn't even care. That's it.

Even fantasy football, because of the prevalence of injuries, has become unfun to play. I love fantasy sports⁶, so this depresses me. I don't know how much longer I can stick that out.

So that's it. Me, not a football fan. We'll see how I do beyond the pale.

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1 Aside from going to church. I love going to church.

2 Incidentally, some of the toughest and scariest athletes I know are women. Don't mess with a rugby player.

3 Seriously, it was an insult to hockey and it makes this current run all the more enjoyable.

4 Also tell that person you think it's ironic that a country that values personal freedom so much also loves a game that exudes classic communist traits. That's fun.

5 Why do I attend so many OU games? You tell me. It must be a sense of obligation... and the 110. They weren't there for the Akron game, and I wasn't either.

6 I'm one of those guys that would rather have my fantasy team win than my pro team win. Why? Because it's my team! I'm actually involved!

Maybe I'm Out of Touch...

Now, I realize I'm hardly the first person to say this, but I've never understood the "it's complicated" option for relationships on Facebook. I never really thought about it, but someone rather important in my life now claims this status for herself, so let's dwell on it for a moment.

Let's go over this: You aren't quite sure what to make of your... relationship... quest... thing... with what may or may not be a significant other. It's unclear what direction things are heading, and even if you know how you feel about that person, you don't know how the other person feels. You don't know if you want a commitment, you don't know if the other person wants a commitment. But you like the person- that much is evident- and you don't want to be just friends.

Not only are you cognizant of these things, but you actually admit them to the other person, and they agree. How do you have that conversation? "Hey, um, look, we're not boyfriend/girlfriend, but we're not just friends, and we haven't really decided what we are. You want to let the rest of the world in on our indecision?"

Barney Frank

You da man! In response to Obama's comment that there is only one president at a time, he said: "I'm afraid that overstates the number of presidents we have."

Haw!

Checking In

So, I had started updating this blog again with some semblance of regularity; I even had started my longish ballot post on Election Night. I didn't get to finish it right away because I was pretty busy.

And it's not like I haven't had the time or desire to post; I've had things on my mind and plenty of opportunity to opine.

The problem was, three weeks ago I dislocated my shoulder. I was at the OU/BG football game and did the giant hamster ball race at halftime. I fell during the race, and that was that. I knew immediately my joint was not where it was supposed to be. But hey, if you're gonna injure yourself, do it in front of 15,000 people, right?

I was taken out of Peden in an ambulance. If you're keeping score, I've been escorted out of The Convo by police and taken out of Peden in an ambulance. I think I'm the only person that can claim that. Now that I think about it, how many people on this Earth can even claim similar, um, achievements?

Anyway, I've been out of my sling for less than a week. I couldn't work, and typing with one hand just isn't worth it. I'm rehabbing the shoulder and trying to catch up. I also have to get going with my MAC Report Online writing; that had to be put on hold as well.

So I'll get some posts thrown up here, just not at the speed I would like, most likely. The suckiest part is that I'm in Twinsburg again for the holiday season, and my laptop's wireless modem sucks so bad it can't pick anything up at anything but close distances. We'll see how this goes.

So...

I was planning on posting my ballot today, but that's going to have to wait until tomorrow, it looks like. I simply got caught up in the whirlwind fury of this election night.

I went to Baker Center to watch the results. I didn't really want to sit this out alone, and I really wanted to see how people would react. It seemed an Obama victory was inevitable.

Watching it actually unfold, seeing him amass an impenetrable lead so quickly, was actually kind of shocking to see. I didn't anticipate how it would actually feel. And I completely underestimated how people would react. When CNN announced Obama the winner at 11:00 p.m., the auditorium erupted. Whistles, applause, cheers, hugging, high-fives, crying, chanting. It went on for several minutes. A pure wave of euphoria swept us all away. And the videos were coming in from New York, Chicago, Australia, Kenya! It was like the whole world, in that moment, was united. I never thought I'd see it. Amazing.

I am not ashamed to admit I teared up a little. Never been had I seen anything like that related to politics. Regardless of who you wanted to win, it was a pretty powerful moment. So wow. I hope we build on that.

Even When Fixed

It's slightly ridiculous and more than a little sad to think that after all this time, just the momentary sight of her is enough to make me dive into the nearest hole. You know how when you have a heart attack, there's a little piece of the heart that dies and never works again? I'm beginning to think there's an emotional equivalent to that. Yes, wounds heal, but sometimes it doesn't completely scar over. If you pick at it, it will bleed again. It's not something you think about, it's not something you have to deal with on a regular basis, but if you happen to touch it, it still hurts.

It strikes me with a profound sadness that doubles as anger at myself for allowing myself to be sad. It's irrational and needless, and I can't help it for a moment. I hate that helplessness. It should never have gotten that far, good or bad. I can't explain it, which frustrates me further.

What I do know is that really don't ever want to see her again. I don't like that any better than anything else.

Fond Remembrance

I know you can't read this, because you're dead. I'm going to type it anyway.

I still miss you. Terribly. I think of you all the time, and I don't believe that will ever change. When you left, that changed my life forever, and it's a hole I'm never going to be able to fill. I loved you more than I've ever loved anyone else, including myself. Indeed, I loved you more than I thought I ever could. I hope you think I didn't take you for granted. I hope I knew how good things were when you were around.

When I visit the place you used to live, I still expect you to be there. That will probably happen until I stop visiting that place. It's not the same without you. It seems... cold there. Almost lifeless.

You saved my life. I hope you know that. When I was in my darkest place, where I couldn't even imagine the sun or the light, or even the divine, you were there. If you weren't, I probably would be dead now. And whenever I needed you, you just knew. You were there. I didn't even have to ask.

I will, one day, try to fill this void in my heart. I have to. But it won't be the same, and it won't be you. So whoever tries will ultimately fail.

I miss you. I love you. Forever.

Don't Shoot the Soldiers

Much to my surprise, I got a text from my ex. I didn't get around to actually reading it for a day or so; this is not uncommon practice for me. When I read it, I saw it was a request for my address. Apparently one going into Basic Training can't have their phone and can only communicate with ye olde paper.

So I gave her my address. I don't particularly desire for her to write me or not write me, but if she does write, I'll return the favor. After all, she's going into the military, and she deserves at least that much respect, right? Even if every time I have contact with her it's almost unbearably weird, I'll suck it up.

Someone Needs to Stop Me

A girl was buying a pregnancy test at my register. As I have to do this month, I asked her if she wanted to buy a pocket pack of tissues. She declined.

And I thought, "You'll need them if that comes back positive."

My Brain is Getting Away From Me

Aren't guys who buy "her pleasure" condoms just shamefully lazy and uncommitted to the cause?

Yeah, I Might Be Getting Older

Impressing your friends, age 14: "Yeah, man, I just got Goldeneye! It's soooo sweet!"

Impressing your friends, age 24: "Dude, I just got a new bed. From the Original Mattress Factory. Seriously. It's great."

Also

I'm running Linux on this machine- Ubuntu to be exact- so I feel really cutting edge/cool/geeky. Interestingly, it doesn't come with the Times New Roman font, which is a little aggravating given the name of this blog. Part of what makes Ubuntu such a great platform, though, is that all I needed to do was bring up a window that showed me all the nifty programs and things I can download- for free- from the Ubuntu community. One click and the Microsoft font pack was installed. Seriously, this thing is great. I can find anything I want to. Photoshop clone for free? Yep. Civilization for free? Yep. A clock that moves counter-clockwise? You bet.

Look Who Caught Up to Strong Bad!

That's right, I finally have myself a laptop. I guess the score is even now, old boy.

Now that I can actually type from a comfortable position (which the desktop did not allow me to do), I might do so more often. We'll see. We all know the problem isn't that I don't have things on my mind.

Well, Shoot

Not exactly the best news I've read. The Baltimore Sun has a great article about this. I wouldn't call myself a voracious follower of Wallace's work; indeed, I don't really latch on to any particular author with the possible exception of Eric Schlosser. But any time I came across his work, I felt my soul rise. I saw a little bit of myself in his writing. Certainly not as limber or talented, but I could relate. I felt like, if I met him, we would be friends. Our brains, and possibly our writing, seemed to be similar. Perhaps this was his writing, perhaps this was hubris on my part. I don't know. At the very least, we could talk tennis for hours. He wasn't a "tennis writer" per se, but nobody wrote about the sport better.

Chillingly, I now discover that we may have been more alike than I would have wanted or desired. We all think about death from time to time. For whatever reason, I had recently been thinking about if I died tomorrow, how would I be regarded? What would the obituary say? Who would miss me? Ultimately, what would my legacy be? I think we all want to know how others will react to our passing.

Everyone has reacted to his suicide like he got punched in the gut. Knowing, of course, that he'll never read this, I just want to say to him that I'm sorry. I didn't even know you, David, but I'm sorry.

Random Thought of the Day

Do schools still instruct children to go to a neighbor's house in case of a fire? Because, chances are, they can just whip out their phones and call 911.

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Now playing: Weezer - Hashpipe (Live)
via FoxyTunes

Release

It's hard
to let go
of something you don't have
But I'm gonna try
And I think
you can fly
Not to leave
me behind
just
where I was.

Yeah, I'm Kind of Weird

Last night, before crawling into bed, I turned on my iTunes (I like to have music playing while I sleep). First thing that came on was "Jump Around" by House of Pain.

"Perfect," I thought.

What Happens When You Are Not Stimulated

One day, a girl came to the register with a pregnancy test. I rang her up and she chose to pay with a credit card. She inserted it into the card reader and left it there. I told her, "You need to pull it out."

To myself, I thought, "Like he should have."

Undetermined

I'm trying to make myself
self-evident with you
but I'm not quite sure
what we're about to go through
It is not knowledge I need
but hope
if I am to grow from this seed
I feel like I can't win
but don't want to just watch
wondering what could have been.

El Mago

I have a long-standing fascination with illusions. There's just something alluring about seeing something that isn't really there, or something that distorts reality. I'm not talking about Magic Eyes; those things are stupid. But classic optical illusions? I'm all over it. I'll stare at them for an hour. One of my favorite characters I played in Dungeons & Dragons was a wizard that specialized in illusions. Illusions are powerful; they can change reality itself.

These days, I wonder how much of my life is an illusion and how much of it I've created. Pursuant to the same point, how much of it do I believe? I'm coming to think that quite often I fool myself into believing things are a lot better than they really are. If reality isn't up to snuff, I'll change it to suit my needs. It's fun, but behind the veil, the glamer doesn't exist and the world doesn't react to it. In time, the illusion fails and I'm left seeing a bleaker picture than I thought possible. One that is all too real.

How much of it do I create myself? And if I do, how do I stop it? Do I want to stop it? Is reality that bad, or am I imagining what is false to justify a different kind of fiction? Does this even make sense anymore?

I look around and see everyone else with their roots in strong truth, no need to invent a grinning mask. At the same time, what is my truth? Life itself seems to throw various illusions my way; what I thought was one thing turned out to be something else entirely. Perhaps reality and I have an adversarial relationship. But I don't feel like anyone else has this problem, so who do I talk to about this? All too often, I say, "This would only happen to me." And it seems that too many people agree. Maybe it's all a lie. Maybe I don't know what to believe anymore.

But I have been driving around with the windows down, and I kept one rolled down even though I'm not driving it. It's getting warmer, and that's no illusion.

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Now playing: Messiah - You're Going Insane
via FoxyTunes

I Feel Helpless

There is a guy who comes into CVS more days than not and buys multiple 40-ounce bottles of King Cobra. I'm pretty sure he's homeless.

Today, he bought a can of soup and he wanted to pay for it with his food stamps. He tried to use the card machine, but was too... something (drunk?) to understand my instructions. I had to do it for him. He couldn't read the screen, saying his glasses are broken. Then I saw him using the touch screen, and his fingernails were so brittle one literally crusted off on the screen as he was using it.

I could smell the alcohol on him from a distance. He shows multiple signs of his liver being shot, almost assuredly because of his alcoholism. I wonder how much longer before his organs start to shut down on him. I don't think it's long.

What, exactly, can I do about this?

There Are Good Things Happening in the World, Right?

I'm pretty happy that Valentine's Day has passed us by for another year. Not because I'm single; I haven't had anyone to celebrate the holiday with since 2001, so I'm pretty used to it. And, believe it or not, I'm not taking the opportunity to whine about it like many people are. Fundamentally, I'm for things that promote and foster love. A day that recognizes it is a good thing in my book. No, my problem with Valentine's Day this year was something far, far more sinister.

CVS, in all its corporate opportunism glory, had a cavalcade of cheap crap for people to buy. Apparently, if your relationship was worth $3-$15 dollars, you were coming to me and buying your stuffed monkies and heart-shaped chocolate boxes. And if you were feeling especially demonstrative, you could buy some helium balloons. Some of them- for the low, low price of $13!- actually played music. There were two songs that the balloons played, one of them being "You're Still the One." Now, that's cute, right? What if you heard it 20-30 times a day, four days a week? After a month of that, you're willing to buy the balloons yourself just to get them out of the store. Of course, nobody was buying them because they were absurdly priced for balloons. So people would make them play the little song snippet again, and again, and again. I was ready to jab my own ear drums.

Of course, nothing says Valentine's Day like a sex scandal. But this isn't really a sex scandal as it is just weird. A teacher in Sweden was convicted of sexual harassment for flashing her breasts at a student. But the teacher claims it was for... disciplinary reasons? The story features one of the greatest lines I've ever read: "The teacher, 47, claimed that she had only revealed her breasts in reaction to the boy's provocative doodles and that there was nothing sexual about the act." Oh. She had to pay damages to the kid as part of her sentence. So the kid got to see a woman's breasts and get paid for it. On the downside, he can only go down from here.
Other headlines on the site: "Teacher charged in sex for grades scandal," "Victory for topless bathers," "Police get a grip on serial masturbator." Maybe I should bookmark.

South Korea had one of its big historic landmarks consumed by fire, and it looks to be intentional. Sad. Why set an old wooden structure ablaze? Maybe it's the historian in me, but stuff like that we need to keep around if we can.
Also, do we really need story highlights from CNN when it takes two minutes to read? Are we really that ADD? Geez.
While we're on CNN, a former Khmer Rouge commander died Friday. We're bound to see more of the former communist faction dying off pretty soon; it's been 29 years since their reign ended. For no particular reason, I remember a New York Times headline declaring the death of Pol Pot. What strikes me about this article is that this particular person, like many in the Khmer, were never brought to justice for their crimes. Instead, he fled to the jungle... and eventually joined the Cambodian government, even becoming a general in the army.
What. The. Heck? Where's the UN on that one? I mean, they knew about the killing fields, right? They didn't miss that one, did they? General in the army? And the people were OK with this? (Probably not.) Furthermore, why is this new knowledge? Isn't this something everyone should know about? I bet I could go out on a given day and ask 100 people if they know what the Khmer Rouge is... I'll give you an over/under that seven know of it. Of course, it didn't involve white people, so it's not taught in our schools.
By the way, there are still Nazis in hiding. They still refuse to confess to their crimes. At least they're being sort of dealt with.

And while there are a lot of poorly-run NGO's out there, I have to give it to the World Health Organization for its head-on efforts against tobacco worldwide. They're really focusing on limiting tobacco use in the poorer nations of the world, as the poorest tend to smoke a lot. Also, remind me not to go to Greece- 59% of men there smoke daily? Yuh-uck. And maybe the UN should ban smoking on its headquarters. Just a thought.
Probably the thing I really hate most about my job is selling cigarettes. I want to tell everyone that wants to by them, "No." It makes me sick sometimes. Stop it, please. Just stop. It's such a worthless, dumb thing to do.

And the Westboro Baptist Church, everyone's favorite pious protesters, has notified everyone they will be picketing the funerals of the NIU victims. In my mind, they've crossed the line from villains to pitiable figures. Their absolute hate for the world, frankly, is sad. They're so far gone they can't see the world anymore. Such unadulterated hatred is Satan's domain. If you didn't know, they're all lawyers. They use their controversy and attention-mongering techniques to lure people into doing something they can be sued for.
I can only hope there is enough good out there to counterbalance institutions like Westboro.

Yes, Anyone Can Have a Baby

Take this woman's child away. Now. Really, that's all that needs to be said.

Didn't watch the Super Bowl this year. No regrets. Don't care how great of a game it was.

I think I might like a girl. Unsure if I like her or the idea of her, though. And she's really hard to read, which is annoying. Either way, she's fun to talk to.

That's pretty much it.

January Sucked

It's true. But it's over, so I guess things are looking up? But yeah, few things went right that month.

I just found out that my friends called off their engagement, which broke my heart. On the plus side, if there is one, I might have a new roommate... not that such an event is something to celebrate even if it means getting TR off his rent. Also, been talking to another friend and I've gotten to hear about how the guy she'd been with for about a year and a half was seeing someone behind her back... bleh. Really, just terrible. I just hope things go better this month. They almost have to, right? Whatever. At least the Bobcats have won four straight.

Remember my reflections on being someone who doesn't drink? Well, I was YouTubing and came across this clip of Jim Gaffigan riffing on the same topic. Kinda cool.

Also, I still haven't gotten over the awesomeness of the new Southeast Engine album. One of my favorites already.

Going to see "There Will be Blood" tonight. Very excited for the experience that is Daniel Day-Lewis.

Not That I Pretend to Have Anything Figured Out, But...

Last night, the phone rang. This is a fairly seldom occurrence on its own, so I'm usually surprised when it happens. What nearly shocked me though was that "Immigrant Song" was playing from the phone. That's the ex-girlfriend's ringtone. I hadn't bothered to change it, because why would I? So I just sat there for a moment, making sure I was hearing what I thought I was hearing. Yep, sure was. I stared at the phone for a couple seconds. Should I answer it? Sure.

What followed amounted to an admission on her part. She had problems. She was doing things she shouldn't have been doing, and she realizes fully what that meant at last. There were people she hurt, so she wanted to apologize to those people.

I never expected an apology, so getting one was a pleasant surprise. Yeah, it felt good. If someone comes to me and I think they're contrite, I'm pretty quick to forgive. Some may say that's a bad thing, but I disagree with those people. If she's serious about fixing things, I want to help her in whatever way I can. I hope she can, because there's so much good that can come of it if she does.

In my hurry to get to tonight's basketball game- and by hurry, I mean arrive before the one hour to tip countdown started- I left my keys in the car. And for whatever reason, I liked it on the way out. And for pretty much the first time, I elected to do so by pressing the button on the door. I don't think I had ever done it that was before. Why did I do that? No idea. Possible subconscious sabotage, maybe. But I didn't even realize this until the game was over (four straight for the Cats!), so I had to tromp to Tim's place in the rain- wasn't good for my wig- and call the police to help me.

They came, but they couldn't get the door open. Phone calls were made, and a locksmith was found. The game probably ended in the 9:30 range, and this episode didn't resolve until about 12:45. Outstanding. Plus, whatever the police did trying to get the door open, the passenger door doesn't open from the outside anymore. For those of us keeping score, I've locked myself out of my car and my apartment in the span of 10 days. Go me.

Sometimes, Life is Pretty Wonderful

I just want to say, if you've never listened to Explosions in the Sky, you need to leave this blog now and do so. I can't recommend it enough or praise them enough. Their music is, quite simply, epic. I can't wait to turn off the lights, close my eyes, and just experience them. It's a rare treat.

I don't often have them, but Saturday was a genuinely good day. There was basketball (a too-close win over Ball State), there was helping a friend, and there was going to Casa Cantina at night to watch Southeast Engine play. A townie was really enjoying himself, running around, dancing, waving his drink glass around. People dancing in the middle, not well or technically but clearly just riding the moment. There's just something great about having a pint of raspberry wheat (good stuff!), jamming along with your friends to a great band. When we all screamed "whooooooa!" during "Where Are You Now?" it just felt... genuine, you know? Like this is one of the moments of life that you always will remember. It wasn't white-knuckle exciting, but it was the manifestation of something you can't fake. Having my oldest OU friend with me (among others), taking in an excellent performance by one of my favorite bands... it doesn't get a whole lot better than that, does it?

A Notice

Not that you care, but I've added labels to all of my posts. Some are more useful than others.

Just Wondering...

Would it be really wrong to say, "Why so serious?" at Heath Ledger's funeral?

Locking the Closed Door

It is interesting how your friends will hold people who have hurt you in the past in greater contempt than you do. Take Tim, for example. When I told him I was going to have lunch with an ex-girlfriend, his response was, "What is wrong with you? Do you just sit around thinking, 'What is the worst thing I can do today?'" While funny, it is also pretty harsh. Yeah, when that ex dumped me, it sucked. But I've gotten over it. We've talked many times since, even sat next to each other in a class we were both taking. I have no ill will toward her. Tim's not alone in his vitriol. Opp told me that he "hates" the girl, which seems to be a pretty extreme reaction. Considering what other girls have done to me, aborting a relationship early seems downright benign in comparison.

Anyway, she hadn't been to Rio Grande before. It being my favorite restaurant in Athens (free chips and salsa!), I suggested that be the place we go to. She got there at 1:15, and we left at about 4:30 (giving me precious little time to prepare for the beating of Kent State that was to start at 6). I was actually nervous about it beforehand; this was the first time we had specifically set aside time to hangout since we broke up almost two years ago. Would it be awkward? What were we going to talk about?

As it turned out, my fears were unfounded. Our conversation spanned a wide array of topics and at no point was there an awkward pause. I had forgotten how easy it was to talk with her. Excepting Tim and possibly Melissa, I don't know of anyone else I have an easier time talking to. Furthermore, I've yet to meet another girl with whom I relate to on as many levels and issues. That makes for pretty easy talking. We did touch the topic of our relationship. I had no intentions on bringing it up, but she alluded to it and my curiosity moved it. She said she didn't feel that we were clicking. And you know what? I can respect that. No problem. Yeah, I felt blindsided by it (she said that was really painful for her), but if that's how it has to be, I can deal. Besides, it's been a while since that happened. I didn't think about it, but it was nice to have that final closure on things.

I'm still not quite sure what to make of this, but she told me I'm the most interesting, fascinating person she's ever met, and I would be very difficult to top. Yet she has no feelings for me beyond that of a friend. So it goes for me, I guess, always missing the pitch just enough to foul it off instead of hitting it into the stands. She said she wanted someone more extroverted and someone she could dance with. Little did I know that the joke I've cracked about that was true! I'm weirdly insightful on accident sometimes. Thinking about it, I could very easily marry someone like her and be very happy. But not her.

I can't say I'm out looking for someone like her. Even on its face, that would be foolish; I haven't met anyone else quite like her. More than anything else, it's nice to know it is possible to transition back to being friends, that the ground doesn't have to be burned behind you. We'll do a lunch again, I'm sure, and have a great time. That's what friends do.

That Asian Logic is Just More Efficient is All

I know whaling is an issue that is on the forefront of everyone's minds; it certainly occupies much of my day. But I did notice in last month's National Geographic a short piece about suspicions that Japan is secretly commercially whaling, which was banned in 1986 because there were about 11 whales left alive. And then I came across this story a few minutes ago. It featured this gem:

" Japan says the annual hunt is necessary to prove whale populations have recovered enough to justify a return to commercial whaling, which was banned in 1986."

So let me see if I have their argument right. They want to show that whale populations have risen to the point where they can be hunted again. And in order to prove it, they're going to go out and kill whales. Isn't that sort of like arguing that I have enough money to retire with and trying to prove it by spending the retirement fund?
Also, I continue to love the Aussies. They're sticking up for the whales, and good for 'em. And they should, because whales are pretty cool. Think about it: If you saw a whale in the wild, wouldn't you remember that for the rest of your life? If someone you know says they've seen one, don't you ask them to tell you about it? Isn't that something worth protecting?

On a related yet coincidental note, I got my National Geographic Society membership card in the mail. Neat. With it is an offer to renew my dues/membership (it expires in July) early. And if I do so, I get to lop $15 off the price. Considering subscribing to the magazine has been nothing but an absolute joy, I intend to take full advantage of this.

I also feel impelled to pass this story along to you (assist to Cheryl). This is a very big, very important, and very unnoticed problem. You would think with all the horror stories that the Vietnam era had to tell would leave us better equipped and more willing to tackle this problem, but we seem determined to repeat our mistakes. People are paying a very heavy price for a war that was entered into in a cavalier fashion. The toll taken for war is not always told in the casualty count. This is why we as a people need to move forward and make war less and less common.

It also highlights a frustrating trait many in our society share: The fear and refusal of counseling services. There is still the sense that going to a psychologist or a counselor is a sign of weakness, of unmanliness. When people hold that mindset, they keep things in until they're killing their wives for reasons they don't even understand. Starting now, we need to teach our children: If you are troubled, get help. That is the right thing to do. There is no such thing as weakness.

Watch It, Old Man

It's a sad moment in your life when you say the following to yourself without a hint of irony: "Stop trying to do that. You're not 17 anymore." For whatever reason, I've started thinking of myself as 24, even though I don't turn 24 for several months. Bah. I think this is really only a tennis thing; I keep thinking about the glory days (such as they were) of high school.

I'm not old. I still look 16, and my maturity level is probably less than that. But... I feel a little proud of myself. I finally bought and assembled a desk and a chair. Yes, before this, I was sitting on the floor when using the computer. I actually have furniture now. Go me. If anyone knows me, you know this is something of a major accomplishment for me, as I'm so terrible at such things.

Also, I got access to ESPN 360, and they're showing five matches AT A TIME! Holy crap! Good times ahead. And the Harlem Globetrotters are going to be here Wednesday... game against Akron Thursday... life is looking pretty good. Just stop snowing.

My Yearly Reminder That I Want to Marry an Australian

Second week in January. You know what that means! You don't? Oh, well, I'll tell you: The Australian Open! Rah! Yay! Woo! OK, I know I'm the only one that's excited. Work with me here. I have two weeks of compelling tennis and crazy Aussie fans to look forward to, and I'm gonna enjoy it, dag nab it!

Sort of enjoy it, at least, because I don't have cable. But I can follow the scores online! Oh yeah!

Went to BG last weekend for the first OU basketball game of the conference season. Not only did the game suck (I haven't gotten around to uploading the pictures), but I accidentally passed Cedar Point on the way, which only served to remind me about the great day I had there with the ex-girlfriend... totally and completely destroyed my mood. And that made me think about more things she said that now suck to think about, but I'll spare you. You get the idea.

I have to pass along this anecdote, though. On Sunday, I stopped at Steak 'n' Shake because I had a thing for a free shake. Seeing as I wasn't going to be in the area for a couple months, I decided to use it right then. Also, I wanted to stop by and see if Angela was working to bother her. Well, guess who was working? Yeah. I just sat down and looked straight forward, avoiding seeing her at all costs. Of course, she comes right up to me and says hi... and rubs my back. Why? Why would you do that? She sits down (ugh) and begins to make small talk (give me a freaking break). That led to this gem:
Her: How are you?
Me: Can't wait for this week to be over.
Her: Why?
Me: It's been a crappy week.
Her: Really?

No, not really. In fact, I did a cartwheel when you dumped me because I was so happy. Yes, it was a sucky week. Not only did you inform me our relationship was a sham, I drove across the state to watch my basketball team lose to a terrible Bowling Green squad. After that, she stroked my arm momentarily. Again, why? Don't touch me. You gave up that right. I spotted Angela after a couple minutes and beckoned over. "Oh, but you're talking."
"I know. Get over here."
The ex, thankfully, felt awkward enough to get up and leave. Then after I left, she sends me a text message! Unbelievable. I can't get the girl to get in touch me while we're dating, now she won't leave me be when I didn't want to see her. I called Angela later to give her a hard time, and she said the ex was acting weird around her after I left, almost like she was guilty. She apparently said to Angela, "I broke Jeffrey's heart, didn't I?" No, you didn't. Can't break what you don't have. Bruised, yes. Broken, no. Angela said she didn't really sound remorseful about it, which is just kind of... weird. How can you be so unaware of your actions and how they affect others? Whatever.

I was able to go to a movie viewing ("The Big Kahuna") and a discussion afterwards from a spiritual standpoint. That was really good, as I'd been feeling really disconnected from the faith in recent months. I need to get re-centered and back to the important things. I did a great job of that today by sleeping through church.

Thankfully, the week ended well with a beating of Miami on the hardwood. I always feel good after that! We tried to storm the court but failed miserably, which was one of the most horrifying events of my life. Seriously, that was a nightmare come to life. The players, thankfully, sort of bailed us out by coming to us in the stands. That was a great moment.

Now, if you're an Aussie and single...

On One Hand...

Two more things I thought of. One time we were talking on the phone and she said, pretty much out of nowhere, that things would really open up in the summer when we wouldn't be tied to our respective towns. Another was she talked about on multiple occasions how she really wanted my parents to like her, how that was important to her.

That was all her. Meeting parents, having dinner with her family, all her. Yet she never wanted a relationship? It makes my head spin.

On the plus side, Kohl's is selling socks at buy two, get one. I needed new socks, so score. I'm excited. Tomorrow I'm heading to BG for the MAC opener against the Falcons, then back to Athens on Sunday. Good times are ahead. Can't wait to have some Sonic.

Picking Up the Pieces, One More Time

It's hard not to think about the latest girl experience that went sour, especially when it just ended so recently. You want to tuck the pain away, want to find something else. You want to find a way to bury yourself in whatever can make you forget for a while. Problem is, when you don't have anything else to do, your thoughts tend to keep coming back to the place you're trying to get away from.

Instead, I'll try and embrace it, to piece it together. I'm not surprised that the relationship is over; if anything, a lot of people would have bailed on it before it got to this point. But if nothing else, I am a person who will carry a lot of weight before casting it aside. Oddly enough, I recently had two dreams that involved her dumping me. Odd because they turned out to be prophetic, and odd because I don't really dream much. It's kind of freaky to think about. What did surprise me is that she said she never wanted a relationship in the first place. That, friends, was the stomach punch. That is what I did not see coming. She said she felt tricked into it (nonsense), but she did like me and she wanted to "give it a try." Also, she said she didn't want to hurt me. Apparently, the better solution is to pretend to be my girlfriend for three and a half months.

Eventually, she got bored (my analysis, not hers). Perhaps she found someone else to hold her interest. But long after she stopped being interested in me, she kept this up. Needlessly, she dragged this out. For no reason, she allowed me to think things were OK, for me to try and see her and do things with her.

She pretended to be my girlfriend, to like me. She just... acted like she wanted to kiss me, like she wanted me to touch her. I don't think she realizes how terrible of a thing that is. I have yet another trust issue.

Where did truth end and the lies begin? Was it when she said she'd miss me when I left after visits? Was it when one night she had her head on my chest and said, "I like you a lot" without provocation? Was it when she said how happy she was I was in town for the winter?

I should have seen the signs. They were there. Well, I saw them, but I didn't take them seriously. Her enthusiasm wasn't there. Conversations were always cut off after a while. Once again, I blind myself. I refuse to acknowledge the bad. I want to believe too much.

I've made statements before along the lines of "I'm done," that I'm shutting my heart off. I'm not saying that this time; that gets me nowhere. All I'm saying is I am lost and confused. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to stop this from happening. I just want the pain to go away. It's all I want. I don't know what I've done to deserve this, but I want to know how to fix it so it'll stop. I'm not even saying I want to be happy. I just want this to end.

Sometimes I feel like everyone is in on the joke except me. If everyone is having a good time, well, at least I'm doing something for the world.

And a Happy New Year to Me

Nothing like ringing in 2008 by being dumped. So change the "semi-girlfriend" to "ex-girlfriend." All along, she never really wanted a relationship. She was just giving it a trial, pretending.

Once again, I've been played for the fool. I'm never going to learn.

I want those three and a half months back. I want the money I spent back. I never really said this before, but I want it all back. I want to do it over again... then not do it. Really, I don't know what I got out of this but grief and a couple things I'm already started to regret.

At least this time, I've managed to do it in a different way. Maybe that's growth.

Self-Loathing in 2008

If one good man plants himself upon his convictions, the whole world will come round. -Emerson

I am fully cognizant of the fact that, at 23, I am still young. Some people wait a lifetime- some more- for that to hold true. Yet I can't help but wonder I have planted myself on firm ground or quicksand, if I will stand tall or watch the earth swallow me whole.

This is almost certainly an overreaction to a semi-fight with who feels sometimes like my semi-girlfriend, but I'm questioning if my choices and decisions in life haven't isolated me from the greater part of the humanity around me. If she understands and respects those decision as she claims, she does not accept them or agree with them. Nor do most people. The problem with living your life differently than most do is you meet resistance from those who, for whatever reason, take offense (however unjustifiably) at your life. And people who tend to live their lives like I do seem to pair off rather quickly. It makes sense, I guess: When you're on that path, you realize there aren't many others on that path, and you want to hold on to one if you can find one.

(Quick aside: Since when does a closed door mean I want to be bothered every 10 minutes? Stop it.)

In all, I feel increasingly alone. I don't feel like it's anyone's fault, really, and I don't have any idea how it can be changed. I can't change my stances, even if she wants to pressure me (a little) to do so. It's who I am, and I can't be anyone else. I don't do pretense well, even if my mother would like me to pretend to give a crap about the guests in the house.

Maybe the world will come round. More likely, it'll crush me.