Two Face

Some words of wisdom from my roommate, Steven C. Porter:

"You have two modes: Really exciting... and everything else."

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.

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?

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."

Just Wondering...

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