The rest of last night

I’m not even going to read what I wrote last night.  I wasn’t ridiculously drunk, I wasn’t even really that upset; it just sort of struck me as an interesting state of being that I wanted to record.  I recorded it.  After I wrote that last night I power napped for 3 hours, then graded a stack of tests from 4 AM to 7 AM.  I no longer choose to moralize my procrastination one way or the other; it was a lifestyle I once celebrated, in the days where I was proud of my abilities and prouder that I “had it all figured out.”  And to be honest, if one finds merit in getting by with the least possible effort, my efforts through high school and college deserve top marks, verging on nobel prize consideration.  Then followed a period of self-resentment, coming on the heels of the realization that wasting one’s gifts is not an act worthy of praise.  It wasn’t enough to mitigate my overpowering self-admiration, mind you, but enough that I no longer openly celebrated my procrastination.  These days, I feel more at peace with myself.  Once I decided I was not really that great, there was little reason to resent myself.  I’ve come to accept that I’m a being driven by experience rather than acheivement.  Underemployment and happiness will be the twin hulls of my catamaran as I sail the seas of life.

The ones this amazing you have to be pissed off when they slip by and theres nothing you can do

One of the things that you can do when you are a little bit drunk on a weeknight is get pissed off at your leisure.  I met an absolutely amazing girl tonight.  The kind of girl that, right after you decide she’s beautiful (the moment you meet her), starts talking and radiating and smiling with that joy of life that is the reason I do everything I do.  And usually thats where I start fucking up, but not tonight.  Tonight I played it cool, so to speak.  I knew everything was on the line; I knew I hadn’t met a girl like this in nine months (daria, I remember meeting you), and I’ve met beautiful girls, smart girls, funny girls, girls that I really wanted to fuck or go on a date with, but not like this.  And I did play it cool; I stood next to her at the mountain goats show.  I cracked wise and it wasn’t forced.  I did everything right, at least if the goal is to be yourself.  My smile is still good and I smiled, I was having a good time.  Still after the adrenaline faded I knew the end result, or the lack of one; that same feeling that always makes me act like an idiot when I know its slipping away and I can’t do anything about it, except I was sober enough this time to just fade out.

The thing is, trying to look at things from the other perspective, as one should, I know there’s never been a girl I’ve met that it was not immediately transparent to a careful observer whether or not I wanted to, or even was willing to, make something happen.  So why should I expect anything different from a girl, and I can just tell.  gogo bordello is on the late show… taking a 3 minutes break.

where was I.  well I realized, observation like, that I knew what was going on, and I decided to just sulk about it and leave.  I had to get home anyway.  Here I am with as great a life as a person could ask for; so many great things have just fallen into my lap but there’s this one thing, which seems like the only thing, and the only thing I can do to keep from going crazy about it is masturbate frequently.  Then on a night like tonight I watch the last metro of the month pull out of the station without me and the only thing to do is drive home. 

Chili + Corn Bread, DCBlogs, Orgasms

I made some nice chili today. Here is the recipe:

2 Big Cans Crushed Tomatos, 2 Cans Kidney Beans, 1 Can Black Beans, 1 Can Black-Eyed Peas, 2 Can Chilis in Adobo Sauce, Chopped, 1 Can Corn, Some Cumin, Garlic Salt

a couple (? I can’t remember…) pounds of Pork Shoulder Butt Rib Meat, whatever the hell that means. Basically go find some cheap as hell meat and cut it into big chunks. This was less than 2 bucks a pound on sale and very awesomely tender in the chili. Beef is good too

I poured in the chilis and some water, got that shit sizzling on fairly high heat, browned the meat in it for about 10 minutes, dumped everything else in and a little more water (just wash out the rest of the tomato and use that), put the top mostly on, and cooked for three hours on low heat. Some corn bread muffins (jiffy mix, sour cream, egg, oil, cheese, salt) are essential as well.

There is something intensely satisfying about having no idea what the fuck you’re doing and making something delicious. This process is central to my being and I feel spiritually and physically nourished right now. However, both those effects may instead be due to the girl 37 minutes into the girls gone wild video I found on my computer last week. She’s so delightfully innocent! And yet… not! She must have, in fact, gone wild! Also, her breasts are large.

Since we’re on the topic of embarrassing myself, I feel a lot like Larry Craig must have felt in those last thrilling encounters before he got busted. I’m writing mostly about girls and sex, because its funny and fun and awkward to talk about honestly in real life. But I’m also writing anonymously because I don’t want my friends to look at me funny or girls to ask awkward questions. Now, I figured the odds of my friends coming across my little blog randomly was pretty slim, but when you’re on the main page of dcblogs, suddenly these odds start to increase. But then, continuing my comparison, I’m sure Mr. Craig felt great as the thrill of his inevitable downfall and the climax of a sloppy anonymous blowjob combined into one incredible orgasm. Since I am always in the pursuit of incredible orgasms, I will blindly march onward, until the poor quality of my writing delivers me safely back into the oblivion of the hinter-net, where I will be safe.

(has anyone coined hinternet yet? Its like hinterlands, get it? Let me google it…)

(results: it is already a technical term for something I don’t understand. Oh well)

So… I can’t really pay for that

I went to the dentist today to get work on a toothache that’s been bothering me for, oh, 6 months or so. This whole living on my own thing has not been conducive to scheduling appointments. The xray comes in and my tooth is basically fucked. Root canal! But he can’t do it today, so we have to reschedule. Or so I thought… when I left the house I checked the prices for cavity filling: $42 on my health plan. I have a 100 or so in the bank so I should be fine.

Except this root canal thing… apparently the doctor pulled the nerve out as he filled the other cavity and I was charged for the entire root canal. $530. Ummmm yeah I don’t carry my credit card. Staredown with receptionist ensues, curb your enthusiasm style. I caved. Realized I had the exp date and code thingy for my credit card memorized and I could get my number off the internet. Soooooo… xbox 360 + GHIII + Bioshock may have to wait

I called the girl after school, got the machine of course, she called back in the middle of my nap, I woke up in the middle of her movie, so I need to call today. or, as senor poopyface correctly pointed out (someone commented!), text her. After two illicit near-encounters with aforementioned 17 year olds due entirely to the magic of texting, I’m convinced that texting is the greatest thing that has happened to sex since the cigarrette. Perhaps this topic is worthy of an article, but its lunch time.

Karaoke Girl: the Approach

I was out with friends on Saturday and we went to a karaoke night. I thought the girl running it was reasonable cute… but how does one go about making conversation without being a nuisance? Well… we stuck around ’till closing and I realized that the girl was almost certainly upstairs packing up the equipment. So… I go up and offer to help.  Definitely the easiest conversation starter I’ve ever had; maybe I’m actually getting better at this? We talked for a while (my friends call to see where I am.. me: “Oh I stuck around to hit on karaoke girl… yeah its just me and her up here so I guess my cover is blown” KG: “It’s alright, I kind of figured”) and I got her number, I’m going to put my chances at 45-60%. Chances of what? Who knows… I had a very frustrating summer (flirted with dozens of cute high school girls day and night, but it just wasn’t a possibility) and I’m ready for something. maybe even, like, a real girlfriend. I usually get over that phase in a couple weeks though once reality sets in.

There’s only one little problem… I haven’t called her yet. Stupid hangups… this time, I always decide that whatever time of day it is is the wrong time of day to call someone. First too early, then its dinner time, then they might be watching something good on tv, then its too late. What is the right time to call someone? If I haven’t called by thursday night I’ll issue a public apology for being lame.

School started this week. I’m already lazier than I planned to be.