Everything That Has a Beginning...

I'm not a boy. No matter how much of my youth I try to hold on to, I'll never be that innocent little boy that dreamed fantastic dreams. We all do have to grow up eventually. It's odd though because I still do boyish things. Still watch cartoons. Still play video games. Still chase after skirts. I guess one never changes in regards to what they love doing but we all still grow up.

That being said, this is the last time I'm going to use this blog. I figured it's time for a change. I don't feel right using the title "The 30 Year Old Boy" any longer. It just doesn't seem right after my little moment of clarity a few days back. I'm still going to write. Don't worry, faithful readers. I don't ever plan on stopping that. It'll just be in a new place. The new blog page is the following:

http://glovebox-mannix.blogspot.com

I've decided not to delete this blog because I've written down a lot of emotions on some of them. I wouldn't want to deprive any of you of that but the next blog I write will be in the Glove Box. I hope to hear from you all there.

Hard Drive

I love the road. She calls to me; I am at her beck and call the moment I get behind the wheel. I don't understand it. I really don't like driving. I don't like being cooped up in a car all day. I prefer walking actually, given a choice. Yet, there's something about the open road that sings to me. I hearken to its siren song. That's how I felt coming into work tonight. It's almost become my ritual, driving in with the music blasting.

Truth is, what I really love is driving at night. Give me a nice open road around midnight with my iPod tunes or my Groove Select station on Pandora pumping out wave after wave of Progressive House and Trance music with the windows down and the high beams on and I swear I'm in Heaven. There's something...I don't know, epic about it! I feel like I'm in a movie or like a kid who just jacked a car for a joyride. (Not that I have any first hand knowledge to reference that to. I'm just guessing here.) I can't explain it as well as I want to. I wish I could just plug my brain into the computer for a second and recall just how good I feel on the open road so as to properly articulate the experience. It's the stuff of fantasy; in a word, it's MAGIC.

I know I sound like a kid around Christmas time but I have good reason to. God-willing, at the end of July, I'll be on the road once again. Moreover, while I enjoy a good drive alone, this road trip (and that's exactly what it is) I have the good fortune to be accompanied by a couple of great friends. Bubbles(Auri), Tyger(Danielle) Steve and I are heading north. I want to go visit Montreal but my darling Bubbles HAS to see Niagara Falls, she says to me. So, that's the plan. The Falls first and then off to Montreal. I haven't been this excited since the last road trip I went on. (Incidentally, it was also with my Tyger and my Bubbles.) I can't wait to hit the road!

The Ties That Bind.

Know you what a true friend is? Seriously? Do you know? Can you tell, out of the either handful of exclusive friends or the scores of acquaintances you have which ones are your true friends? I can. Here's how...

Have a fight with one of your friends. Call each other names. Say the meanest things you can think of. Send awful text messages and hurtful words. Threaten to never speak to them again and then...call them the next day and ask them how they're doing. Talk to that friend for hours and mention how much they are missed. Let him/her know just how much you are looking forward to seeing their face and holding them close.

If that friend doesn't even notice that little hiccup of friendly banter; that speed bump in the cordial road friends usually take, then you have a true friend in that person. Friendship isn't defined in how well you get along with someone you're compatible with but how well you get along with someone that you constantly clash ideals, motives, emotions, etc., with on a daily or weekly basis.

Sometimes they'll drive you nuts but you wouldn't have it any other way. I know I wouldn't. God has seen fit to bless me with a few of these friends. Moreover, I just now realized, once again, just how lucky I am for that.

Having My Cake...

There's a thought that's been bouncing around in my head these past couple of days. It's something that was said to me. Can't shake it. It was merely this: "I wish I could be what you want; I wish I could be what you need me to be."


It was a sweet sentiment. Sincere, as well. I couldn't help but to believe it. However, I've heard it too often in my life for me to just...settle for it. I know not how often I've heard countless women tell me that I'm a great catch but they don't see me that way or I'm not the one for them or that I'm that man they want to be with in a few years but "not just now." (That one is my all time personal favorite, for some reason.) It's gotten to the point where it doesn't even phase me. Truth be told, every time I talk to a woman, be her a friend or otherwise, I already anticipate the likely conversation. It's either full of unnecessary reaffirmations or rife with cautionary truths filled with carefully worded phrases meant to spare my feelings.

...feelings...

I'm not quite sure mine are all there anymore.

You hear these things long enough and you get jaded. That's where I am at the moment. I'm trying to prioritize my life and to do that, I know I have to actually know what I want. Do I really want to settle down? Do I want to start a family? Or do I want to continue viewing women as disposable treasures? Do I want to keep having wave upon wave of meaningless sex with countless women ranging from the insecure to the sex-crazed? Is it possible to have both?

That's what I got into with Dolly. She's the one that said that quote at the beginning of the blog. If you're a loyal follower of this blog, you'll remember that she and I had a very tumultuous episode a little under a year ago. Anyway, she said what she said and then told me that if she gave me what I wanted, that it would be fake. That threw me. I mean, one person's "fake" is another person's "fantasy." I don't need a clear-cut definition of what is real and what isn't. If and when I fall in love again, I'd like to think that I'd recognize the situation for what it is. For some reason though, I'm not conveying that confidently enough. However, I can see why that's difficult with me. I love unconditionally. Be you a friend or family, if the word escapes my lips, it originated from my heart and my heart has been broken and pieced back together so many times that it can only love in that way. I guess that, even though I'm saying I want a fling, maybe Dolly (and perhaps damn near every other woman on the planet) doesn't think I can keep it that way. That sucks too because the ones that do think I'm all about a fling are the ones that want a real relationship with a guy. My wires must be crossed or something.

I haven't ruled out walking down the aisle and having little munchkins running around the house and driving me crazy. I really do want that. Right now though, I'm lonely and it would be nice to get some TLC from someone who you love already as a friend and more. Someone whom you have been intimate with and knows how to push all the right buttons.

There's nothing wrong with that, is there?

Shining Armor

I keep falling off my horse. Keep wanting to write but don't. I do so even when I have all the F'N time in the world to do so. God! Maybe procrastination is a freakin' disease! Wishful thinking, I know. Were it a disease or disorder of some kind, there would already be a pill with it's own commercial that would air during a broadcast of CSI or during Letterman or something. No. Procrastination is just me being lazy. So much for writing once a week. I mean, it's not like I don't have anything to write about. I've been caught up in a frenzy of emotions. None of them are my own. As usual, I've fallen victim to the prowess of my attributes. Namely, I've been problem solving. Not the mathematics kind (although there was a shitload of money involved) but the emotional and, dare I say, spiritual kind. Hell! I'm still trying to solve some of them. Some are my own. Most are not. Some aren't even problems at all (in my eyes, that is) while others are just a little too ridiculous to mention but I'll mention them anyway so as not to hide anything.

1. My Tyger, who now lives a few states away, is a bit upset that I do not call her.


2. Daisy is in love but with someone that clearly wasn't ready for her and, truth be told, she isn't completely ready for it either.


3. In saving Dolly's ass with a ridiculous money loan, I left my ass unprotected.


4. I need a fucking vacation!


5. I need to get laid often on this fucking vacation! (Seriously! I think I'm going to kill someone if I don't!)


6. My job is a dead end job but there isn't anything better out there so I have to suck it up.


7. I have yet to complete any paperwork that would entitle me to my GI Bill benefits.


8. Bills, bills, bills.


9. I have a bar tab again.


10. I still haven't found my old man.

Those are just some to name a few. Sometimes I forget about a problem until I come across it again. Sometimes, people come find me for help. I'm a sucker for that one. I love playing the Knight in Shining Armor far too much to stop helping others and putting their problems before mine. I mean, you're taught that growing up. Be generous. Be helpful. Moreover, I'm Catholic. That whole "Do unto others..." thing gets drilled into your psyche if you're paying attention.

Truth is, I have to start being selfish, if only a little, so I can help me help myself. However, I don't know if I can and deep down, I really don't want to. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: I live to serve.

The Edge of the Storm.

If memory serves me correctly, (and it rarely does) this is the first time I've written a blog from a Starbucks over a Cinnamon Dolce latte and an Iced Lemon Loaf. I feel so fucking trendy! Actually, I needed coffee and the Internet went down so it's not as though this was planned but I thought it merited mentioning. Truth is, while I'm an avid Dunkin Donuts enthusiast, this combo of java and baked goods is one of my favorite muses. It helps get those creative juices flowing. And they are.

Right now, I've got a lot of good ideas for some storylines not to mention my enthusiasm for the next coming weeks. I'll also be able to do more workouts and hikes when the weather gets warmer. I am genuinely optimistic right now and while I would love to blame it completely on the latte and the lemon loaf, I know that the reason for my brighter outlook on life is due to the coming storm.

As I write, it is beginning to come down. Weather reports say this is going to be one hell of a deluge. It's going to rain nonstop for about two days. (Big ol' shit-eating, Kool-Aid grin on my face!) I don't know why but I love this weather. It always reminds me of...well, boot camp. We did everything in the rain on Parris Island. Running, hand to hand combat, obstacle courses, rifle range, etc. You name it, it probably was raining when we did it. As masochistic as that sounds, it reminds me of the rebirth, for lack of a better word, within myself. When I became a Marine I became a different man. The experience changed me in profound ways. Some for better, some not, sure but the change, like the slogan says, is forever.

Now, here, at the edge of the storm, I'm not reminded of my military training and lifestyle but of the potential for change. If you are reading this and know me well, and have ever wondered why I love the rain so much, this is why:
The rain reminds me of the potential within me for change. It washes away all of the bad and cleanses me down to my soul.

This is why I feel so good. Why I feel inspired to write my novel as well as my first screenplay; this is why I'm confident that I will be able to transform my body into a healthier, fit version than what I'm walking around with now. Hell! This is what's inspiring me to drink another latte! LOL! Most of all, the rain is the manifestation of my hope that the right woman is out there for me right now and she too is looking for me.

Here comes the storm. Here comes the rain and here I sit, staring out this window, with a big smile on my face.

Misplaced.

I seem to have misplaced my father. I can't find him anywhere. Truth is, I don't know where I left him. My fault really. I don't call the old man enough times. Sure, I can be like the rest of my siblings and bitch, moan, whine and complain that he never calls. That he never passes by to visit or doesn't inquire about his family. Like them, I can be bitter that he now pays more attention to his current family (that being his woman and her two almost grown kids) more than he pays attention to his own flesh and blood. I can be angry that he doesn't help out financially even when he promised he would. I could be upset that he has slowly turned into a ghost these past couple of years and I know nothing about him; he has almost become a stranger. I could be mad...but I'm not.

I do have a father. That's more than most people can say in this God-forsaken world. My dad did raise me. He was a great father. Still is, too. His absence changes nothing. Sure, I misplaced him. It isn't the first time. He always goes hermit on me from time to time. Hell! That's probably why I do it so much. Aside, from my nuclear family, I usually keep blinders on and am oblivious to anything outside of that circle. Moreover, my father and I are also very similar in regards to the way we feel about our family. We don't have to say it everyday but we love everyone. It's just that we sometimes have a tough time showing it.

My Old Man is just like that, I suppose. I guess I am a chip of the old block. I'm becoming more and more like him everyday. Still, I miss him. Maybe I should've told him that before he went underground. Perhaps I should redouble my efforts to find him before he actually goes underground and I never have a chance to tell him how important he is and has been to me. You tell yourself there's always time; you convince yourself that you'll tell a person you love them tomorrow but tomorrow is never guaranteed. To be honest, that's my biggest fear. That I won't have time to say the words that need to be said, even though they technically don't need to be said. If he goes, I'm scared I'll misplace him somewhere in my heart. (Sounds foolish, I know but it's the stuff of nightmares for me.)

I wonder where he's gone. I wonder if maybe he's ashamed of me sometimes because I haven't achieved what he had hoped I could achieve but I purge that idea from my head as quickly as I think it up. He's never been ashamed of me. It's kind of ironic that I should dwell on that now considering I used to pride myself on thinking that, since I had a father growing up, that I wouldn't need him anymore if he chose to leave. I now see the error and folly in that line of thinking. We never stop needing our dads. I have a proud father. A loving father. A misplaced father. Perhaps even a misinformed one, too. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks I'm ashamed of him. Maybe he just doesn't know the truth. He may have simply forgotten that he can do no wrong in his baby boy's eyes.

The Truth Is...

...I've had plenty of times to blog but I didn't feel like it. It's not that I didn't want to, mind you. I just felt uninspired and thus unmotivated.


...I've been hitting the gym because I want to look good naked.


...I miss my Daisy more than I cared to admit.


...I am a 10th Commandment-breaking son of a bitch!


...you can't handle the truth which is why I always "exaggerate the truth" whenever possible.

...I want to fall in love, get married and have kids as much as women and most guys want that shit too!


...while all of that is true, "the pickin's are slim!"

...I do like the beach.

...I didn't go last year because it reminded me that I was alone.

...I may be as evil as you think me to be.

...I love Pandora!

...I hate like I love. Unconditionally. Please don't get on the wrong side of that fence!

...I do love writing but I fear putting too much of my mind on paper because I don't want you to know how much of a monster there is underneath the skin.

...I hate hypocrisy.

AND,

...I always lie.

Year and a Day.

Where the did the year go? It sure as Hell was a fast one! A year ago, I was getting ready for a road trip to Miami, Florida to move my Tyger to her new home. Lo and behold, she has been a Florida resident for a year now. Incidentally, that trip to South Beach was the last time I've been on a beach. I didn't go to the beach in 2010. Not once! (Not that I give a fuck. I'm not a beach person but still...) I'm just saying, I can't believe the year is gone. I really didn't do much this year. Had fun. Lot's of parties, sure. New friends were met. Awesome! (Thanks Daisy for taking me to my first Devil's game at the Rock! I had a blast!) All of those things were great but I don't feel as if I've accomplished anything.

I did start working out midsummer. I had forgotten how much fun that could be. I took a break from it right around Thanksgiving though and haven't been back since. No gyms. No runs on the Boulevard, even. Luckily for me, I believe it's never too late to start anew and even more fortunate for me, I have found a grimy, low costing gym near my my home. (I F'N love those!) I should be able to start working out as early as tomorrow.

One thing that did surprise me this year was the inadvertent outbreak of baby fever everyone (including myself) came down with. I got it early around my birthday when I found out that my long thought diminished chances for having a kid of my own were gravely miscalculated. Add to that, seeing my cousin's kid, Shawn, having another cousin tell me he's expecting his second kid and my bro and his wife having their first born (LOVE YOU RY-RY!) and it's easy to see why, um, "spreading my seed" has become such an important goal in my life. (JESUS! DID I USE THE WORD "GOAL?")

I don't know what lies ahead for me in 2011 but I can honestly say that I'm a bit optimistic. I can actually succeed if I can just stay focused.

The Long and The Short of It.

I'd say that I've been emotionally unstable these past couple of days but I'm always emotionally unstable. In fact, emotional stability has never been my strong suit. Just having to deal with things makes me realize how much I avoid emotional stress entirely. I'm out of practice and let it get to a manic point in my head. I hate it. I hate it because it breeds hate. It makes hate fester and simmer within me to my breaking point if I don't get it under control.

I was going to get into why when I started this blog but fuck it! It's enough for the reader of this blog to know that I'm hostile, volitile; forgive me for what I may say in the near future and tread lightly around me. I'm feeling exceptionally homicidal today.

Maybe. Maybe if I can calm down, I'll explain how I got here emotionally but don't hold you're breath.

Conception

I have a great idea for a story. I've had it for quite sometime but it all just started to piece itself together last night for some reason. I've been brainstorming and recording random ideas on my voice recorder for a few weeks now so I feel like I've got the necessary tools to write an outline and a rough draft of the first three chapters or so. What's more...it's not the original story I started to write and it's not the short story (The Believer) that I started writing two months ago either. In fact, when you look at it from a different perspective, it's an entirely new storyline I've somehow managed to conceive. I don't know where it came from but I'm gonna ride it out. Sometimes you have to go where you're creativity takes you. So, that being said, I'm well on my way to writing something that, well, something that I think I'm truly going to enjoy. I'm going to create my very own universe. I'm SO in love with that idea!

The biggest roadblock I have in front of me now is simply fatigue. It's difficult to write at work. It's even a bigger challenge to write afterwards when I'm dead to the world and by the time I wake up, I lose that vital train of thought; I lose my creative path, so to speak. I guess I just have to find a proper rhythm to the writing and I'll be fine.

I really want to get this done though! So often, I start a project and never finish. I get hit with a burst of inspiration and then, half way through the "putting the ideas to paper" process, I get distracted and stray from the path so much that I lose sight of what I was trying to create. This time, I have something that seems beautiful to me and I want to share it with the world. I hope to God I can keep focused.

However, it probably doesn't help matters much that I'm gonna go to the movies after this to watch Tron: Legacy and then take a long ass nap right after, does it?

The More Things Change...

I hate that I haven't had time to catch up on my blogs. Both mine and the ones I follow. Lord knows how much juicy and extremely entertaining tidbits I must've missed out on by now. Truth is, I love reading other's blogs because I live vicariously through them. While that isn't a problem, (or shouldn't be anyway), it does become a bit odd when that's all one does. Living vicariously through another's eyes is perfectly fine so long as one has a life of their own to live. If not, if you're just racing home after work to read what others have done, you need to get out more.

That being said, I've been neglecting my blogging because I've been getting out more. You know what? I'm almost regretting it. (Almost, but not quite.) I had forgotten why I'd turned into a recluse and hermit for a few years until I walked into my old stomping grounds a while back. Fucking drama! Drama, drama, drama! Left and right! Up and down. I had forgotten that interacting with others can sometimes spark a real life reality show to spring up from out of nowhere.

Hanging out at The Wild Rover Pub, I'm already allegedly fucking my brand new BFF Daisy*, am a gossip and spreading rumors, caused someone to lose their friend (I really don't get that one because the only way I lose my friends is the old fashioned way--Death!) and God knows what other hate is aimed my way. It's enough that I can sense it sometimes but I get it so often that it's almost second nature to me to feel hated when I walk into a room. (So why do I continue going there, you ask? Keep reading.) Regardless of that, you can't have everyone like you and, more importantly, the Rover is holy ground to me. (And I guess deep down inside, I really do love drama.) I missed my old stomping grounds. It's just like I left it.

I hate that part of living life but I don't care. Scratch that! I don't hate that part of living life so much as damage I cause. But fuck it! I have to get out and be a part of the world again. I feel like I've been couped up and hidden away in an attic somewhere. Time to stretch my legs; time to get back to what I'm good at. Chaos! LOL! I laugh but I'm being serious too. I destroy the things I touch and/or come in contact with. To quote one of my favorite comic book superheroes:

"I'm the best there is at what I do. But what I do isn't very nice."

If you see me on the street, you may want to cross to other side. Especially if it looks like I'm enjoying myself.

The Other Side of the Coin.

Having worked the graveyard shift for the better part of an Olympic year, I know a thing or two about the nighttime. As a matter of fact, it's safe to say that I know somethings you don't know.

I know that the park bench where you sit at in the daytime is someone's bed come midnight; That alleyway you cut across is someone's home. The parks themselves become hiding places for those that don't wish their actions being shown in the light of day and conceal even more secrets at night. Playgrounds become bedrooms for young hands and lips longing to explore nubile bodies or are merely the staging area for drinking, drug use and revelry before actual bedrooms are used.

Hills you would think to be deserted as skateboarders slake their thrill issues on most of them under the cover of darkness and backyards and seemingly empty warehouses become impromptu rings or cages for those seeking blood for their respective fight clubs and with muggers, rapists and killers all using the night as their own personal cloak of invisibility, the Angel of Death is seldom too far away.

How the night obscures these things from view. How the night conceals these things from you. Pray you do not stray to far from the light.

The Definition of No.

Perhaps I'm too accommodating to people and don't know it. Maybe I'm too eager to please. That's probably the reason why I don't say the word "No" often enough. While I detest using it, it is a necessary word. I mean, you can't please everyone all of the time. Sometimes, you have to be a little bit selfish; sometimes you have to put yourself first.

I... am SO not there yet! Every time I'm asked to do something, I jump on it like a snot-nosed private that just received orders directly from his commanding officer. Granted, while I don't see anything wrong with that, I do tend to stretch myself beyond my means at times to indulge other people's needs, as it were. Last night, I ended up using my entire hour break from work going to stores open 24 hours to find a big bag of cotton balls for one of my Goddaughter's science projects for school. (OK. I'll go to the ends of the world for anything she needs but still...I did so because my sister, her mother, asked me.) Speaking of my sister, I'd be finishing Chapter 2 of The Believer [BTW, in case you're interested http://nevermoreraven13.xanga.com/ ] and posting it right now had I not left my laptop at home for her to use. Very unselfish of me, I think, but I could've just as easily have said "No. I need it tonight." That would've been the end of it and it would've been the truth. (And before you ask, I know I could've easily copied the story onto my flash drive and taken it to work with me but I don't trust the computers at work, OK?) Yet still, I caved and with a smile on my face.

A couple of days ago, I invited a friend of mine out to breakfast because I know her to be a night owl like myself and I know for a fact that she's always up early and hungry. So, I took her to breakfast and then, since she asked, I chauffeured her around because she needed to make a few stops. Didn't even hesitate to offer myself up or anything.

As for my next two days off, tonight is my night. I pretty much have nothing to do after work except enjoy my day off and, while the same can be said for Wednesday night, I've already told two friends that I'd hang with them. It's no biggie for me, really. When stuff like that happens, I just put everyone in the same room together so I can hang out with all of my friends at once. Still, the point I'm trying to make is that I could've just as easily cancelled on one and hung out with the other. Actually, to be completely honest, Wednesday November 11th is the U.S. Marine Corps' birthday. As a tradition, I usually go out and get shit-faced either alone or with any of my fellow Devil Dogs that I can find. Nevertheless, I put tradition aside so as to convenience others.

I'm not saying it's a burden. It doesn't bother me at all. I love having friends that miss my company. I love having family that depends on me. I love being the Go-To guy! However, looking back on my life, I can't help but realize that while I've been very unselfish, at times, I've hindered my own progress, dreams, goals, etc., and as commendable as that might look to the naked eye, on paper, that's not such a good look at all. I always find that amusing though because, all my life, my religious teachings have always told me to give of myself to the fullest. That has always been confusing because Jesus would give you the shirt off of his back and He's loving and caring but when I do it, I'm stupid! (UGH!)

A long time ago, I was asked by a, um...professional, to describe myself in four words or less. He told me not to think about it but to just say the first words that popped into my head. My reply was simply:

I AM YOUR SERVANT.

I don't know why I said that. Those words just came out and, the really strange thing is, I believed in them. As a matter of fact, I still do. Helping or serving others is the single greatest joy I get out of life. That's why I hate it when people tell me that I have to look out for myself first sometimes. I hate it because, while I know they have a point, it goes against my nature and Lord knows that you can't fight who you truly are. At least not for long.

I don't know if I have it in me to be self-centered and self-indulgent and I don't care to find out. I like the way I am but I do have to figure out how to start accomplishing goals a little better, a little faster and with a lot more frequency. Going to the gym tomorrow (ironically, because someone asked and I didn't say "no") to see if I can get back on that horse. I was doing great until 4 weeks ago and then, well...I guess I said "NO" to myself, didn't I? Perhaps I don't need to look up the definition of "No" like I thought I did. Maybe, I just have to start saying "Yes" more towards the things that I like.

The Things I Keep.

Why do I love the rain so, I wonder? Does that make me weird? Or should I say, does that make me weirder than most weird people? My friends don't seem to think so. Then again, maybe they have simply grown accustomed to my odd behavior. The latter is a definite possibility. As for my newer friends, they don't seem to mind my weirdness either. Personally, I just chalk it up as a character flaw that people seem to find charming and endearing.

I love my friends. I love them so much that I think I'd love them even if I hated them. (I know that might not make sense now but read that again in a minute or two. Trust me. It will.) My latest new friend is Shannon. I swear, there's something about her that reminds me of me. She's a dreamer; has a big heart that shines right through. Cool peoples all around. She in turn is best friends with my Polish brother from another mother, Artie. I met them both at The Wild Rover Pub in Guttenberg. Through whom, you ask? Well, I was introduced by none other than my cousin Aramis (Junior), who's always been the closest I've had to a little brother. I can talk to him about anything and he's always got my back.

Speaking of having my back, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my big brother Eric. He, who, surprisingly married before me and is expecting his first born next month. He, in turn, is married to BB. One of my most loving and, by far, one of the most generous people I've ever met. She'd buy you a small country if you put it on your Christmas wish list. She also has a great ear so she's always been a great listener. I'm SO glad those two got together.

Oh! And while we're on the subject of great listeners, how could I leave out my favorite beach buddies? Bubbles and Tyger. God! If those two even hear waves crashing on the shore, they take off in a dead run! Seriously! I've actually witnessed that. Incidentally, I didn't see the beach, not even once, this summer because the two of them weren't around. Moreover, I love them both because they constantly remind me not to stray to far away from the light as I am normally inclined to do. It's very difficult to be depressed around those two especially if they're together.

Why am I getting so mushy, you ask? Why so sentimental? Why think on old and new friends? No reason. This isn't a suicide note. (Quite frankly, I don't believe in suicide but even if I did, the goodbye letter would be about 500 pages long.) It's just something I've been thinking about after having a conversation with my cute little blondie, Bubbles. It's something she said when I made it a point that we should hang out more. (I may have made that point whilst being a bit too much attitude.) She quelled my annoyance with the quaint little observation that we never hung out that often in the first place before she got with her man. It was a simple little sentence but it made me think about the rest of my friends.

I rarely see any of them as much as I would've a decade or two ago. I wrote if off as being an adult and being busy and stuff of that nature but the truth is, with my conflicting work schedule and everyone else's responsibilities, it's hard to see them. It's very difficult to hang out. Moreover, we don't all have the same tastes in hang out spots even if we did when we first met. As for my other best friend, she doesn't even live in the great state of New Jersey anymore (miss you, Tyger!) so we only catch up on IM's, text and emails but we can't hang out that way.

Lately, I've been working on my minimalist movement, of sorts. It's something I mentioned in a previous blog about getting rid of things you don't need or don't use. I was thinking about applying that same mentality to my friends list. Not my Facebook list. My actual list of friends. However, that only lasted for a split second. Friends are the one thing in my life that will always remain constant. Furthermore, I rarely ever try to make new friends because I have all that I need with the ones I have now. Nevertheless, I always manage to find a way to make new acquaintances and once that happens, I find it difficult to ever let them go from my heart or memory. In all seriousness, I find it difficult to let go of friends I haven't talked to in awhile or don't keep in contact with. To this day, I wonder how Taz and Lucci are doing. I rarely ever talk to either of them but I worry about my Marine brethren to this day.

No. I can't downsize my actual friend list. Once you're in my thoughts and in my heart and soul, you're there for good; you're there to stay for as long as my heart keeps beating and then some. I keep the friends I make. If for nothing else, I guess it's just another character flaw. Perhaps the people that I meet can sense that about me. Maybe that's why they stay.

Reading this blog again, I've realized that I've left out countless other people. Moreover, them being the friends they are will probably wonder why I left them out of this mentioning of friends on a blog that, odds are, no one ever reads. Some may even make a big deal about it and that's cool. If I make friends that worry about me not mentioning them then I must be doing something right. If nothing else, that lets me know that I have good taste in friends because any friend of mine that is proud to say they know me is worth keeping.

The Veil and The Dream

"Did you know that the veil between this world and the next is the thinniest around this time of year?"

I remember that question being posed to me by one of the kookiest people I had probably ever met (up until that point, anyway). She was a witch (or Wiccan, for you politically correct assholes who have nothing better to do than to correct my politically incorrect ass!) or so she told me. She then corrected herself and said she was merely a nature worshipper but loves seeing people's reactions when she says that she's into witchcraft. Needless to say, she didn't even make me flinch. However, I did think that her initial query to me was a bit strange.


I don't think it so strange a question anymore.


I haven't had anything spiritual happen to me in a long time. I may have felt, what the faithful might call, "God's presence" but I haven't felt the piety I used to feel as a child in quite some time now. Not until tonight, anyway. Tonight, that presence was almost...well, for lack of a better word...SPOOKY!

I woke up from what may very well have been the most vivid dream I've ever had. It involved a friend. One I only knew for a brief amount of time, before the Good Lord saw fit to take her from this world, but a friend nonetheless. And sure enough, there she was, plain as day, giving me advice without saying a word. It was one of those dreams where I knew what was happening without the need for words to be spoken. (By the way, if anyone wants to know the dream, all you have to do is ask. I'd get into it now but it would need it's own blog to be told properly.)

When I awoke to my alarm clock, I jumped out of bed with vigor and energy. I got ready for work and headed out the door confident and alert but I didn't know why. It wasn't until I was driving to work listening to Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin that it all came back and hit me a proverbial ton of bricks. (Zeppelin can do that, you know!) I almost had to pull of the road to compsoe myself. I managed to pull myself together and get to work.

Here I am, still at work; it's hours after the realization of that dream and after telling Tyger about it and I'm still freaked out about it. (Incidentally, she was just as wigged out as I was!)I mean, dreams are one thing but this one was too vivid and had too much of a message to just be a dream. This was more a communication. What if it's true? What if the so called "Veil" is weakest at this time of year? Could that have been a long distance call from "the great beyond" or whatever it's called? I haven't put too much faith in the supernatural in a long time even though I'm superstitious and a big fan of that type of thinking. I don't know why but I haven't really put too much faith in anything lately. I guess that's why the dream occurred yesterday of all days.

Not only was it Halloween, it was the first time in a long time that I went to church; it was the first time that I actually prayed.

I'm not gonna sit here and tell you to "repent your sins" and that "The End is Nigh!" or anything like that. However, I am gonna tell you...there is a power in believing and scary as it is, I'm gonna explore it a little more. As for the dream, I think it was advice. It may very well have been a message. I mean, when you're dreaming you're in a car race and then a friend, who has already "crossed over" and whom you've never, EVER dreamed about after her death, tells you to take a chance and try to beat a train that's coming full steam on the tracks or to make a ramp jump over a cliff in the car ala Dukes of Hazzard, it's gotta mean something! Apparently, I have to start taking bigger chances.

I read you loud and clear, Jesse! Tell Jesus I send my love and don't beat Him too badly in chess. Let Him win a few.

Maximizing My Inner Minimalist

So one of the newest fads, for lack of a better term, is being a minimalist; living with the least amount of things and getting rid of objects that you already own that you don't need. In this day and age of everything costing way too much, that sort of living can probably save the practitioner of that lifestyle a lot of money. Getting rid of things you don't need and not purchasing unnecessary items in the future is a very liberating concept. Imagine being able to walk down the street with money in your pocket and not being tempted to by a new pair of CK jeans or cologne. You already have a good pair of sneakers so you don't need to buy a new pair of kicks with the name of a professional basketball player on it; not needing to get a new iPhone or Droid because the phone you have is all you need. It would be a liberating feeling to know that, by living a minimalist lifestyle, you can discover a lot about yourself because you can actually see that you need very little to survive. Furthermore, there's also a philosophical aspect to consider. When it comes to emotional baggage, one could do well by being a minimalist in that area of their lives as well.

While it's a novel concept to most and one I'm seriously considering implementing and studying more about, I can't help but chuckle. It's comical to me simply because, as I look back on my life, I've been a minimalist for as long as I can remember. It was purely unintentional but I've always been that way. Hell! My mom raised me that way. We were poor so it came easy because, well, everything was minimal.

I don't think I've ever bought or owned a TV and if I did have one in my possession, it was a gift or hand-me-down type item. I've bought radios and CD players but I've kept them small so that I can travel with them. Speaking of traveling, I've always done so light because I don't own that much in the way of clothes and apparel. Usually one suitcase or duffel bag is all I need to move all of my belongings from one place to another. Hell! I don't even own a car anymore nor do I plan to ever own one lest I win the lottery. Then I'm buying Shelby Mustang I've always wanted, but I digress.

I'm reminded of the movie Fight Club. Two quotes in particular come to mind.

"The things you own end up owning you."

...and...

"It's only after you lose everything that you're free to do
anything."

Makes sense, doesn't it? If it doesn't, that's OK. Choosing to live this way, in the way in which I've read about that people have chosen, is still a little weird to me. I mean, as much as I can say I don't own much, I also don't save money the way a minimalist should and I'm not ashamed of that. Everyone has their vices. Still, to really adopt that lifestyle, I have to start living a little more frugally. I guess I can cut back on the beer and alcohol. I'm trying to better my life by minimizing anyway. I guess I should minimize my alcohol and tobacco consumption. Well, I'll try to at the very least.

I'm going to go to my storage unit today and start seeing what it is that I can live without. If I don't need it, it goes. Moreover, I'm going to include in that list all of the old letters and pictures I've kept from past lovers. I don't need to be haunted by ghosts of the past anymore. Starting today, I minimalize my emotional baggage and, I will shorten my long lists of regrets. God-willing, maybe one day I can get rid of that list once and for all.

Unspoken For.

I'm trying to figure out if I want a girlfriend or not. It may not sound like a difficult question but it is for me. I miss the intimacy, sure. I am quite lonely; that's a given. Nevertheless, am I ready for a full-blown, legitimate, honest to goodness, committed to one person relationship? I don't know. I'm feeling torn and very confused. (And for those of you reading this that are already calling me a dog, FUCK OFF! I'm being honest! Last I checked, women want that quality in a man.)

I always thought that I could be a bachelor for the rest of my life and just enjoy a woman's company when it suited me. However, I'm set in my ways. After awhile, I expect certain things out of a woman and the Good Lord knows no one woman is like another. Each one far too unique to be mistaken for another. That being said, what the fuck happened to blowjobs?! Seriously! Is there like a BJ boycott or something I'm not aware of? If there is, it sucks and, ironically, it's the only thing that does! (That pun was very much intended!) In a weird way, I'm kind of happy that women aren't throwing that out there all the time. That just helps me discern how deep I'm getting into the relationship. (If there is one forming, that is.) Basically, I take the blowjob as the high sign that the chick is digging me but I digress. I think I've stayed off topic long enough.

To girlfriend or not to girlfriend? That is the question and while I want to, I'm a bit apprehensive. The truth of the matter is, even though I've matured a lot since my last relationship, I know I have the potential to fuck a relationship up as if I had a PhD in fucking up relationships. I start off strong and then I somehow manage to screw up a good thing. (Seriously! I've been doing it since the Corps days.) Still, I won't lie. The only reason I'm writing this blog entry is because I have an interest in someone. Perhaps I just answered my own question.

Hangover Heaven

This has been, by far, one of the most entertaining weekends of my life. So much so, in fact, that I have to put it in the Top 10 All-Time Best Time list. Actually, it started way prior to Friday.

I've been in and out of more bars than I can remember and, for some reason, I feel a rejuvenation in my game. Well, maybe not my game because I really don't have much of it anymore but I am actually excited about dating, flirting, etc., a little more lately. That might not seem like a big deal to anyone reading this but it is. For a long time, I was out of it. I didn't see myself with anyone. Still don't but I'm hopeful. That whole incident with me almost becoming a father really put things in perspective.

So there was a make out session last week with someone I really didn't think would be down for it. It was nice. Great, even! I hadn't done the "making out on the couch" thing in a long time. I felt like I was in high school and was making out at a girl's house whilst her parents were out. Sounds corny, I know but it's the little things that go miles and miles with me.


Then the flirting everywhere else...bars, bus stops, bookstores...has been a little out of control and overwhelming by my previously recent standards. I don't know what it is that's gotten into me but I'm riding out this wave for as long as I have it in me to do so.

Oh! And strippers help boost that surge inside me (And YES! I know it's really stupid to think they're after anything but money but I have a wonderful imagination!)

But anyway, I'm trying to calm down. I've drinking everyday for the the past five days; the culminaton coming on Saturday with the mother of all bachelor parties! (Hence the strippers. Stay focused!) I still have two more days off of work so I'm gonna enjoy them in the same fashion even though my funds are beginning to diminish. Hell! I'm writing this blog from BLVD Bar & Grill in Elmwood Park. Got a pint of Yuengling and a shot of Jack Daniels next to me. (I'm nursing the shit out of them but I'm still drinking! So much for "trying to calm down," huh?) Actually, I have to go to another bar to meet up with friends but I can't pry myself from this barstool because, if there's one thing I love better than anything, it's people-watching.

The person I'm watching at the moment is some cat named Freebird (I shit you not! That's his name.) I think he's homeless because I never see him with a beer in front of him and he's always eating people's leftovers but he's a gas to watch. Apparently, he likes jamming to the music on the juke. Right now, he's jamming to (Wait for it!) FREEBIRD! Homeless, in a bar, eating leftovers and jamming to Freebird. I don't know why, but I'm kinda jealous of him! LOL! (No, seriously! I am.)

This whole blog is an exercise in chaos! I know this. However, that's what happens when I'm in super hangover mode. My mind is pure chaos at the moment. I can't make sense of anything nor do I intend to. To quote one of my favorite movie phrases: I'm an agent of chaos!

20/20 Hindsight

I don't know who I was kidding with that last blog. Although I can't stop thinking about the girl and what my baby would've looked like, deep down, I was relieved that I wasn't going to be a father. As much as it pains me, I have to admit that. I mean, seriously, who am I kidding?! I'm still raising myself! Moreover, I'm doing a piss poor job of that. I'm not saving for the future. I'm still living paycheck to paycheck. I have no ambitions. No goals. I'm not even too sure what makes me happy anymore or if I truly ever knew.

So no more brooding. We move on. We push forward. We do all the optimistic crap my friends (Tyger and Bubbles)* always tell me to do. I'm gonna take a vacation next week. Just for me. Just to see if I still know how to enjoy myself. Hopefully, it doesn't involve too many bars or too many gallons of beer but I seriously doubt that. Beer is the cornerstone of a good time for me. I might even try my hand at a few poker tables. As a matter of fact, I'm dying to find some poker action because I need to test out a theory. As the saying goes:

"Lucky at cards, unlucky in love."

If that is even slightly accurate then I should be a natural at poker. Even if I'm not, I love playing that game so it stands to reason that I should play for fun. Who knows? I might even win me some rent money.

All that aside, I still can't get my mind off of that girl. She vowed that she and I would never have sex again. If you don't know anything about me, the word "never" just makes me lock on to you like a cruise missile! It's one of my character flaws.

1) Always want what I can't have.
2) Don't know what I have until it's gone.
3) I always end up hurting what I love.

What's worse, they usually go off like dominoes. They set off a chain reaction that often leaves people (and me) in tears. However, now that the word, "never" was used, I want it even more; I want her even more. It's pure lust, I know but I can't resist.

UGH! What is wrong with me? Man, I can't wait for that vacation time! I don't know where I'm gonna go but I need to get away. Play some games, drink some beers and, God-willing, fuck some other chicks. As I always say: Nothing gets you over the last one like the next one!

*You know who you are!