I am so bored that I just noticed, sitting here with my head in my hands wondering if I should write something or turn off the computer, that the "Control + whatever" functions are written on the undersides of whatever key. Blah!!!
What did Lorelei call me? Somber? Hrrm. Well, maybe she's right.
You know, when I started this blogging thing a little over a year ago, I swore that I was not going to use it as a forum for my complaints, that I was going to be only positive. Maybe that's why I don't write much, because I rarely have anything positive to say. Maybe that's why I'm such a quiet guy in general. After all, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all, but, goddamnit, I'm tired a bein' nice.
New Year's Eve ended up being pretty mixed. I had to be designated driver again. This is the usual situation, because my best friend is an alcoholic (sorry, but you know it's true) and her boyfriend or husband (or whatever their secret status is now) does nothing but complain if he can't drink when she can. So I try to keep everyone happy and volunteer to drive. This makes my friend feel like crap because she thinks I can't possibly be happy if I am not drinking, so when we got back from the bar she shoves a bottle of vodka in my hand when I'm standing there with my St. James flask in the other. I got about five or six shots in me and totally lost control. Long story short, somebody said something insensitive to me and I blew up and stormed out after making some very classist remarks. Nothing was said by either of us that was not true, but it's just not nice saying those things. So I drove home completely shit-faced on the one night when there are probably more cops out than any other night of the year.
Anyway, I'm bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, and, did I mention, bored!!!
I want to meet some new friends. I love my present friends, and they've stuck with me through thick and thin, but they are a couple and they fight all the time and my only other acquaintances are friends of theirs. I want to meet some interesting new friends, not people who are bound and shackled to their workplaces. I would really like to meet some women, not just for nefarious sexual abandonment, but because I really hate men, so if I want to meet people, that means women. Actually, nefarious sexual abandonment does not sound bad lately, because it has been a REALLY long time for me, but I have never been good at that sort of thing where love wasn't involved, and love is hard to find. I'm beginning to think that love, real love, not just obsessive love, but real, reciprocated love, is once in a lifetime. Actually, this is pretty much always the way Ive felt, but I thought it was possible to have varying levels of love many times in one's life. Notwithstanding, I know that I loved her such that I really need a different word for any other love. English is a deficient language.
I got Its not you; its me, the other day. I met some woman on Matchmaker last year. Yes, you read right, Matchmaker. I do online personals. If you were a computer geek like me, who works at home, whos known every woman in the pub that would even talk to you for fifteen years, whos been divorced for nine years, whos only motivating factor in life is the hair in the drain because if I dont find someone before other people start noticing then nothing will separate me from a six foot four George Castanza, then, yeah, you would be doing it too. [Actually, I dont know why it bothers me that my hair is starting to fall out since I shave it all off anyway about once a month or so.] At any rate, Nerve.com seems to be a better site for weirdoes and freaks like me, but I happened to meet the woman in question on Matchmaker. She was a really incredible woman incredibly accomplished at a very young age, really into science and technology and science fiction, beautiful, funny, etc. I thought maybe I hadnt tried hard enough with her, so I wrote her after like a six-month interval and basically begged her to take me anywhere! I dont care! I dont care! I dont care! [Sorry about breaking out into The Smiths there; I got a little out of control.] Anyway, she told me she just hates dating and that she isnt going to do it anymore. Just my luck.
I think Im going to go back to Newfoundland again this year, if I can scrape together the money. It was a Sierra Club service outing, which means you pay $800 to go work like a dog in the cold, wet woods for a week, and some of the people were older and less exciting than my mother, but some of the other people were older and cool as Hell. Anyway, it was fun. I saw whales for the first time in my life. I slipped off the cliffs and found myself hanging by a root like in cartoons. I got pissed off my ass on India beer and deafened myself in some wimpy local rock club, but any local music anywhere is better than what you will here in some trendy nightclub, because all the girls are sluts, and the beer tastes just like piss. Now, those are the Specials words; I dont often refer to women as sluts; I have whored myself out far to many times to slight anyone for being promiscuous (though definitely not lately).
There I go, back to the sex thing again. Maybe Id just better cut this long and go watch some pornos in the living room.
What did Lorelei call me? Somber? Hrrm. Well, maybe she's right.
You know, when I started this blogging thing a little over a year ago, I swore that I was not going to use it as a forum for my complaints, that I was going to be only positive. Maybe that's why I don't write much, because I rarely have anything positive to say. Maybe that's why I'm such a quiet guy in general. After all, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all, but, goddamnit, I'm tired a bein' nice.
New Year's Eve ended up being pretty mixed. I had to be designated driver again. This is the usual situation, because my best friend is an alcoholic (sorry, but you know it's true) and her boyfriend or husband (or whatever their secret status is now) does nothing but complain if he can't drink when she can. So I try to keep everyone happy and volunteer to drive. This makes my friend feel like crap because she thinks I can't possibly be happy if I am not drinking, so when we got back from the bar she shoves a bottle of vodka in my hand when I'm standing there with my St. James flask in the other. I got about five or six shots in me and totally lost control. Long story short, somebody said something insensitive to me and I blew up and stormed out after making some very classist remarks. Nothing was said by either of us that was not true, but it's just not nice saying those things. So I drove home completely shit-faced on the one night when there are probably more cops out than any other night of the year.
Anyway, I'm bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, and, did I mention, bored!!!
I want to meet some new friends. I love my present friends, and they've stuck with me through thick and thin, but they are a couple and they fight all the time and my only other acquaintances are friends of theirs. I want to meet some interesting new friends, not people who are bound and shackled to their workplaces. I would really like to meet some women, not just for nefarious sexual abandonment, but because I really hate men, so if I want to meet people, that means women. Actually, nefarious sexual abandonment does not sound bad lately, because it has been a REALLY long time for me, but I have never been good at that sort of thing where love wasn't involved, and love is hard to find. I'm beginning to think that love, real love, not just obsessive love, but real, reciprocated love, is once in a lifetime. Actually, this is pretty much always the way Ive felt, but I thought it was possible to have varying levels of love many times in one's life. Notwithstanding, I know that I loved her such that I really need a different word for any other love. English is a deficient language.
I got Its not you; its me, the other day. I met some woman on Matchmaker last year. Yes, you read right, Matchmaker. I do online personals. If you were a computer geek like me, who works at home, whos known every woman in the pub that would even talk to you for fifteen years, whos been divorced for nine years, whos only motivating factor in life is the hair in the drain because if I dont find someone before other people start noticing then nothing will separate me from a six foot four George Castanza, then, yeah, you would be doing it too. [Actually, I dont know why it bothers me that my hair is starting to fall out since I shave it all off anyway about once a month or so.] At any rate, Nerve.com seems to be a better site for weirdoes and freaks like me, but I happened to meet the woman in question on Matchmaker. She was a really incredible woman incredibly accomplished at a very young age, really into science and technology and science fiction, beautiful, funny, etc. I thought maybe I hadnt tried hard enough with her, so I wrote her after like a six-month interval and basically begged her to take me anywhere! I dont care! I dont care! I dont care! [Sorry about breaking out into The Smiths there; I got a little out of control.] Anyway, she told me she just hates dating and that she isnt going to do it anymore. Just my luck.
I think Im going to go back to Newfoundland again this year, if I can scrape together the money. It was a Sierra Club service outing, which means you pay $800 to go work like a dog in the cold, wet woods for a week, and some of the people were older and less exciting than my mother, but some of the other people were older and cool as Hell. Anyway, it was fun. I saw whales for the first time in my life. I slipped off the cliffs and found myself hanging by a root like in cartoons. I got pissed off my ass on India beer and deafened myself in some wimpy local rock club, but any local music anywhere is better than what you will here in some trendy nightclub, because all the girls are sluts, and the beer tastes just like piss. Now, those are the Specials words; I dont often refer to women as sluts; I have whored myself out far to many times to slight anyone for being promiscuous (though definitely not lately).
There I go, back to the sex thing again. Maybe Id just better cut this long and go watch some pornos in the living room.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
we're classical pansies.
i'm sorry that your new years eve was not ideal!!
being the des. driver especially on that night is crappy... our driver was getting stoned all night but we didn't mind. heh...
i'm not sure where you can meet any new, good people of substance.
the library? hmm....
i would say, go to newfoundland again if you enjoyed it the last time. it sounds wonderful.. but how does one manage to slip off a cliff??? and i never thought that hanging from a tree root was possible, like you always see in cartoons..
i get the chance to do some travelling myself this spring... i'm so excited! we're going to bangkok! i get to watch 'the boys' play a 3 hour set for a bunch of black tied executives, and we're staying for a week! i'll be in heaven!
sorry that i've been so lazy with writing.. i've been doing it to everyone, even my closest sg friends! what can i say? i've just been getting high and being lazy too much...
i hope you are well.