The Badly Written Sitcom

      Things stopped making sense over the last week. See, I believe in balance, I believe  everything is what it is for some grand reason we’re not even supposed to know.  But over the course of the past few days, that balance ceased to exist.

      It’s like the universe just remade itself… a new breath has been given to everything and now everything is slightly different. Not too different, but different enough to affect everyone’s lives.

     I’ve got a new "office" now, since last semester’s storm took down the radio booth. This, in turn, forced me to spend more time doing other things and less time with my kids… which could only result in slightly disastrous things.

     Just when I was getting used to the basic concepts of living here in my new community, the players and positions changed.

      Even going to that western themed bar up north seems different.

      I roll with it, of course, no choice but to… no inclination to stop the change… and there are things that remain constant. Singing all night is still fun.
Love is still love. Heartache is still heartacher. Beer is still good. And I, like always, am still young and stupid.

      I’m almost 25. You know what that means.

      *Ed, when you say you’re back, what exactly does that mean? You’re back in the country? Or back in the real world in general?

      A few days ago, Resty, Carlo and I, the original triad, went off to attend a wake for our friend Lloyd’s recently departed father. While my condolences go out to his family (they’re one of those close knit groups that’s just really rare these days), I have to be completely honest and state that the time I spent there has been good for me.

     Not many people know this, but I have some morbid predilection for attending wakes and/or funerals. I know it’s sick, but being around death and misery makes me appreciate more the fact that the heart attack didn’t finish me off three years back, or all the accidents I’ve been in over the years (there have been a lot, and all of them were with me under the influence of booze) didn’t get the job done. (Yet.) It just makes me see life for it’s beautiful, sugar-coated glory. Makes problems look smaller.

     The night at Lloyd’s was spent discussing different philosophies and points of view that set each of us apart from one another. What with my laid back, less is more, borderline hedonistic, overly simplistic world view clashing with Carlo’s downright existentialism and at times even deconstructionistic (that the right term?) contradictory point of view… then add to that Resty’s pragmatic, entirely cerebral, emotionally distant way of life. That sort of variety always makes our discussions interesting. Sometimes even grating. But never boring.

     Plus, it helps that we talk about porn and other vile stuff 75% of the time.

    Life goes on in the South, however. May there be a day when we don’t need heartbreaks and funerals to make us feel alive.   

     I haven’t been around this part of the online neighborhood for a couple of weeks now, primarily because the start of the new semester pretty much held my balls in a vice grip. And not in a good way.

     Let’s answer the comments first shall we? Thank you Ed, yes I am enjoying the teaching gig a lot. Also nice to hear you’re still up and kicking. Also, thanks for the extra hype, Resty.

     The whole thing with the HR person (which I think it’s time that I finally address in this blog) is the reason for all those complex (or attempting to be complex) emotional distress that has been going on for the longest time now. But, like any good show, everything justkeeps on getting more and more complicated.

     I’ve been getting a lot of heat from the "elders" at the school. They think I’m a bad influence, what with the clothes, the painted nails, the hair (which was longer the "appropriate"), the drinking, the cursing, the lifestyle, the earring, the loud singing of rock songs across the halls… it’s a really long fucking list of reasons why they find me "unbecoming".  I’d tell them to blow me, but they might actually enjoy that.

     My second birthday of the year passed, which is the annual celebration on and of the second weekend of November, (which is now inherited by Resty’s daughter Scarlet, who was born in close proximity to that weekend, see last year’s sisig pizza and beer post for details) and once again, even though I can no longer hold any claim to the date, it was eventful.

    All night videoke, vomiting, and… other things, that was just some solid old school fun.

    Also, I did a couple of evil things a couple of days ago… and, I don’t know. My uppance will come. I assure you.

   Young, stupid, in love (WTF?). That’s the theme this time. Though the people in school are still pulling their resources to turn me into a grown up.

   Good luck with that, I say.