tiberius

All seemed to be going well. We were down at the Celtic festival in Long Beach, enjoying the music of my people and drinking Guinness. Nine times outta ten this makes for just about as good a day as you can hope for. But this particular Saturday was that exception to the rule

We decided to take a break and go over to the Queen Mary for some food and more moderately priced alcohol. And as we were sitting there on the deck, she spoke those most horrible words: theres so much I want to say to you right now. And after a listing off my positive qualities, I knew that big but had to be coming.

And it came

Basically, long story short, were just not working off the same schedule anymore. She needs an upping of the commitment level. A ring would be nice, but moving in together is the bare minimum must. And really, I cant blame her. After three and a half years, thats really not asking for a lot. But Im just not there.

But even if I were to take the next step, there are still other problems. As she pointed out, Ive become an increasingly angry person. Ive always been a cynic; I can admit that. But Im frustrated with work and the path Im on. I have a bright career ahead of me. Problem is, I dont want it. Im sick of this town and the people in it. Id like nothing more than to retreat to some mountain top and write for myself. Unfortunately, reality is a bitch.

Ive got a lot to figure out. I think if I were happier about the overall state of my life I could take that next step. But right now, theres this creeping desire to say fuck it all and retreat. Its hard to commit your life to someone else, to make that kind of promise, when you cant even commit to yourself.

Yeah I know Bitch, bitch, bitch

But thank God for good friends. I didnt have to deal with sobriety for very long yesterday. I spent the first part of the day boozing at the Farmers Market with my oldest best friend (He had the unhappy job of informing me that an old friend of ours, a girl who nearly came between us no less, is dying of cancer. THAT certainly puts things in perspective.) As we drowned our sorrows, we came to realize that the farmers Market has a kind of third world, man on the run ambience At least thats how it felt after a couple pitchers.

We then took the pity party back to my place. After a few more beers, the roomie decided that it was high time to get us over to Jumbos Clown Room. This, in his divine words, is where strippers go to die. Its dark, dank and downright creepy. But hey, they wear pasties so you can still booze while gazing at the boobies. Ive heard tell that David Lynch hangs out there when hes in town. Makes sense, as its slightly reminiscent of the bar in Fire Walk With Me. It definitely kept us in the desperado mood of the day.

The girls range from newbies to veterans, but theyre all really nice. (My God Did I just write that? Of course theyre nice. Theyre trying to get your money) As a matter of fact, one of the girls was wearing a SG tank. I would have said something, but I was slurring pretty bad by that point, so I decided to try and retain a shred of my dignity A pointless effort really, considering Id already spilled one drink on myself

So now I sit here at work, wondering