The Badly Written Sitcom

      I feel for you Ed. I really do.

      Today’s post is not about my usual musings, but more of a response to a recent event that happened to two friends of mine who had a perfectly good thing going (on the surface at least) then pretty much crap on it. Now, I’d like to clear one thing up, I don’t know all of the details, I only know one side of the whole sitch, and I’d also like to point out that I’m not angry (not that me being angry would actually matter).

       Fuck that, kids! What is up with everyone trying their absolute best to piss on things that matter?  Sunday morning, I come visit a friend only to be the to be privy to one of the biggest atrocities one can do to another.

      You cheated my friend. And I’m not judging you or anything, and I’m sure you may have reasons as to why you committed that act, you still fucking cheated. No matter how you look at it, it’s still wrong. You cheated, and I would understand why someone would cheat on an unappreciative, undeserving asshole or bitch, but you weren’t exactly with someone even remotely unappreciative or undeserving now were you? You cheated on someone you was with you through all that shit all throughout the drama that’s been going on in your life for the better part of a decade.

     And this is something you can’t take back.  There is no  way you can possibly make up for this.  You can try (a decent person should)  but don’t think you’d have a shot at even being close to doing so.

     This is the second time you’ve pulled this crap, and I’m sorry, but you’re not the one who’s around to have to look at the person and try to mend together the remains of that person’s shattered heart. And you’re pretty damn lucky you’re my friend too.

      Whatever. Walk away. Please.

This past weekend, I was supposed to attend my second ever fete de la musique. See, the first time I attended the annual event, the night produced a bunch of laughs and scenes involving a stranger, a pervert, a pissed off boyfriend, a drummer that made hasty decisions, an old friend, an unexpected kiss, and a lasting image of irony. That was two years ago.

Being a person in dire need of such a night and an overwhelming desire for live rock music, I was more than psyched to attend, even if I had to go alone, for a little shit-faced serenity. You know what stopped me? A broken door knob. A fucking broken door knob. I wont bore you with details (I have other ways of boring you.) but a broken fucking door knob destroyed my supposed awesome night. Not cool.

There’s a resulting general malaise within me for missing that event. Not to sound overly dramatic, but I sort of needed that night. Well, so much for needs then.

I’ve been getting a lot of comments that this “emo” phase I seem to be going through is becoming unsettling (translation: increasingly annoying), but I’d like to make a couple of points clear. One, I’m not going through an “emo” phase. Not intentionally at least. And two, I’m fine. I’m just going through a lot of weird transitory bullshit, but I still recognize that things ares till workable and that a lot of other people are going through a lot more complicated issues right now that are truly worth bitching about.

Like I told a lot of people… I’m merely assessing my life’s direction right now, considering I never planned to be at a point that my life actually would need direction. My eternally short term apparently is taking a long term course. But I’ll be 25 ’til January, so anything can still happen.

Right now, honestly, I’m dead inside. Again. I need to have life breathed into me again. Side effects of leaving the school setting, I know… should’ve been more prepared.

Aw hell.

My self imposed isolation
is yielding a lot of lukewarm results. My grand experiment is so far
a not so stellar work in progress. My attempt to bring a little
forward motion towards definition is going both ways, and whether or
not it’s a good thing remains to be seen.

Being back on the night
shift has been good for me, and facing certain harsh realities is
also good. But now comes the downfall of most best laid plans; human
emotion. I’ve always been a softie, despite always being the first to
point out the all too human weakness of actually giving a shit. We
have needs that need to be fulfilled, and some of those needs, sadly,
just have to involve other people. And since I’ve decided to leave
the people who could provide those needs and the very few people left
are either in no position or are seemingly unwilling to partake in
the goings on of my shitty little ordeal, I’m left with a few
options.

I’ve never been a
proactive guy, only playing the hand that’s dealt. That’s why up
until now I’m still bouncing from one place to another in complete
free fall, and I’ve decided to change that. But there are instances
that waking up alone that really blows. It doesn’t happen often, but
when it does, fuck all there is.

It’s that time again.
Time to test the fates by putting myself in situations that make for
awesome breakthroughs. I’m ready to meet people. I’m ready to mix it
up again. I ready to fall in love with and under the city lights once
more. Time to find the smile I’ve lost.      

     Here I am, back in cubicle-ville. I haven’t blogged on in a while, despite the many goings on that I could have commented about online. I was in a transitory state, but things have leveled now and I can take a few moments of my not-exactly-strenuous-work day to bitch and moan like I usually do.

Updates first, I’m back in the night shift. No more sunlight for me for a bit. Frankly, I think this is the est thing that could have happened to me in a while, as it buys me much needed time I need for assessing the everything that has gone down and where I stand. I actually like being in the office, and look forward to going to work everyday, much like my original stint in Iweb… a state of mind I never really experienced in my other jobs, even while I was teaching.

It’s like nine hours of paid peace of mind, and I need all the peace that I could get.

I was involved in an ugly affair a few weeks ago involving some dear old friends, but that little sitch has been resolved in the least ugly scenario possible.

I’ve been meaning to blog about my departure from the South, but never found the time to do so… so here we go. Over the past ten years, I’ve made a lot of valued friends. These people I’ve encountered all hold a great deal of value in my life. However, there’s only one group that has consistently been around, and I actually mention them a lot in this little blog. I’ve called them The Old Gang, La Famiglia, The Hidalgo Boys, but mostly, I just call them  my friends.

Every time the shit hits the proverbial an, I’m always off to the South to see them and sit around and get drunk and play video games and whatever. They’ve been my safety net for the longest time. The South entirely is generally have become a symbol of security for me. This is where my perceived problem lies. I have been doing things the safe way, and it somehow stunted me. I’m exactly the same person I was when I was in college. True, having an overgrown college kid around is good, but not when that overly grown college kid is teaching actual college kids. I let the South, and now, I’m struggling on my own, seeing how far this whole independent thing takes me.

Oddly, I’ve moved in to my third place this year, this time with another college friend. But things are a bit different now.

So far, I’ve already learned a lot of things, especially during the course of all the changes I’ve implemented during the summer. These days, I’m more focused on myself, trying to make myself a complete and happy person without having to expect it from others.    It’s been very difficult so far, and I haven’t eve completely set off yet, but I’m getting there. And I still would make the occasional cameo appearance down South, for special occasions (like the recent bachelor party) but mostly my time will be consumed by pursuits of growth. I’ve tried everything else anyways.

Another summer’s over. This time next year, I just might still be around.