Ok, so I'm eating at a debate tournament and one of our volunteer coaches makes a disparaging comment about Kentucky and says that its part of the South. I mention to him that its not, because Kentucky never joined the confederacy. Little did I know that this would start a firestorm.
So they go on about how we're still fighting the Civil War and shit and I just go off. Look, I know that the war is over, that we lost. All that. I get it. But what you don't get is that this motherfucker was in our back yards, all you got was a nice memorial in Gettysburg but I can literally walk 5 miles from my house and pull shot out of buildings that were placed there by this war we're supposedly still fighting.
Futhermore, you Northern motherfuckers are still getting off the boat! I can't throw a stone without hitting some fake ass Irish pissant who claims to be of the 33rd county of Ireland. A big middle finger to all of you! Same with the Italians here, and the Germans! You guys are all obsessed with your belief that you're still part of the Old World. Guess what, that's your heritage and the Civil War is mine. We had people die here, we had people fight here. You did not. Regardless the merits of the war, regardless the right or wrong of the war, they died. They died in my back yard. I had 22 men in my family (and that's just my dad's side) fight in this war. Did they believe in slavery? I don't know. But they died. And for you to be flippant little pissants about that, well, Fuck you.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Say Uncle
My Mom's birthday is coming up this week. And for some reason that makes me think of her brother. Not sure why, but it does. Now her brother, my uncle, is a man that I never met but am always (secretly) compared to by my family. He never gets mentioned by the family, but I embody all his promises and am sort of the new 'him.' It just so happens that he's dead.
The story of DL was told to me by my father. Yes, the father that I don't speak to anymore. He told me because no one in my family ever will. The wounds, even after 23 years (which is when my Dad actually told me) had not quite healed and never will. Sure, they told me that he had been murdered, and gave me thumbnail sketches of who he was and that I acted just like him (and judging from the pictures, we struck a fair resemblance) but that was about it. I think it was fitting that I heard about DL through my father, who was his friend and (if I remember correctly) was partially to blame for setting up my Dad and Mom. Odd.
So apparently DL was this amazing fellow who had a heart of gold but an amazing wild streak--his CB radio handle wasn't "Bushman" for nothing--and knew how to have fun and drive women crazy. He also would give you the shirt off his back (and apparently did--literally--to my father from time to time. They were drinking buddies and things got out of hand occasionally). DL apparently had horrible taste in women. There is no truth to rumor that he fancied Redheads but I think we were kindred spirits.
So DL was about 20 years old, 2 years older than my Mom by the way, and while he loved having fun and doing his own thing he finally decided to settle down with one woman. To this day no one has told me her name, and that's probably a good thing, but I believe that they were married. Anyways, they were living together.
Now DL and this woman apparently loved each other but also could never go 15 minutes without arguing over something. And often it got out of hand. In a shouting way. My Dad claimed that DL never laid a hand on her and it was not in his nature to hit women anyways. But they would argue and shout and fuss and cuss. But one night, things got ugly. During one of their arguments DL's wife slit his throat with a Kitchen knife, hitting the jugular. DL tried to run out of the house but made it to the driveway before collapsing. Because they fought and because they were alone she claimed self-defense and was never tried. Obviously, my family never believed her.
The fallout to this was huge. My grandfather, having just lost his only son, vowed to never lose his daughter and thus threw an iron curtain around my Mom. This led my Dad to give her an ultimatum: marry me now or leave me. After she graduated high school they go married. The two never were a perfect match and eventually divorced when I was in 3rd or 4th grade.
Beyond this, I was positioned to fill DL's shoes. Now, no one on my Mom's side has come out and said this, and how could they really, but my Dad believes it so and so do I. I slept in the same room he did when he grew up (my Mom lives in the same house she in which grew up, my grandparents rarely would go into my room btw), I was always cherished and loved a bit more, and always had a few more expectations to go with it. I also think thats why my Mom and I have such a great relationship too. She loves me for me, but I also think she sees a bit of her brother inside of me too.
My sister has never connected these dots and I doubt she ever would, she's not one for intuition, logic or figuring things out. But I often wonder what our lives would have been like if it were not for that night; if I had an uncle, would I be me? Probably not. How does this change my relationship with my sister? Should it even change anything with her? I dislike her to no end, so I don't know! But often go back to thinking of my Mom, I think about this life that she and my grandparents had long before I was born. A life with a brother and son.
The story of DL was told to me by my father. Yes, the father that I don't speak to anymore. He told me because no one in my family ever will. The wounds, even after 23 years (which is when my Dad actually told me) had not quite healed and never will. Sure, they told me that he had been murdered, and gave me thumbnail sketches of who he was and that I acted just like him (and judging from the pictures, we struck a fair resemblance) but that was about it. I think it was fitting that I heard about DL through my father, who was his friend and (if I remember correctly) was partially to blame for setting up my Dad and Mom. Odd.
So apparently DL was this amazing fellow who had a heart of gold but an amazing wild streak--his CB radio handle wasn't "Bushman" for nothing--and knew how to have fun and drive women crazy. He also would give you the shirt off his back (and apparently did--literally--to my father from time to time. They were drinking buddies and things got out of hand occasionally). DL apparently had horrible taste in women. There is no truth to rumor that he fancied Redheads but I think we were kindred spirits.
So DL was about 20 years old, 2 years older than my Mom by the way, and while he loved having fun and doing his own thing he finally decided to settle down with one woman. To this day no one has told me her name, and that's probably a good thing, but I believe that they were married. Anyways, they were living together.
Now DL and this woman apparently loved each other but also could never go 15 minutes without arguing over something. And often it got out of hand. In a shouting way. My Dad claimed that DL never laid a hand on her and it was not in his nature to hit women anyways. But they would argue and shout and fuss and cuss. But one night, things got ugly. During one of their arguments DL's wife slit his throat with a Kitchen knife, hitting the jugular. DL tried to run out of the house but made it to the driveway before collapsing. Because they fought and because they were alone she claimed self-defense and was never tried. Obviously, my family never believed her.
The fallout to this was huge. My grandfather, having just lost his only son, vowed to never lose his daughter and thus threw an iron curtain around my Mom. This led my Dad to give her an ultimatum: marry me now or leave me. After she graduated high school they go married. The two never were a perfect match and eventually divorced when I was in 3rd or 4th grade.
Beyond this, I was positioned to fill DL's shoes. Now, no one on my Mom's side has come out and said this, and how could they really, but my Dad believes it so and so do I. I slept in the same room he did when he grew up (my Mom lives in the same house she in which grew up, my grandparents rarely would go into my room btw), I was always cherished and loved a bit more, and always had a few more expectations to go with it. I also think thats why my Mom and I have such a great relationship too. She loves me for me, but I also think she sees a bit of her brother inside of me too.
My sister has never connected these dots and I doubt she ever would, she's not one for intuition, logic or figuring things out. But I often wonder what our lives would have been like if it were not for that night; if I had an uncle, would I be me? Probably not. How does this change my relationship with my sister? Should it even change anything with her? I dislike her to no end, so I don't know! But often go back to thinking of my Mom, I think about this life that she and my grandparents had long before I was born. A life with a brother and son.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Are there God? Its me Martha.
Prayer is a muthafucka.
You see, the thing people don't understand about prayer is you are asking ASKING, its not a damn wish list or anything. Even the English word backs me up on this. Congratulations, Blogger Guy, you just used Funk & Wagnalls to win an argument.
But seriously. What is prayer. I don't really know. But to me, prayer is the humble submission of my will for a greater Will. Its asking for something to be done, but by asking you release your control over the situation. See, we Christians get it wrong. We make God into this big fucking Santa Clause that delivers in 30 minutes or less. Its more than that. People don't understand the power of asking. When you pray you submit to your will for a greater Will. Follow me here.
You see, people often say "I want X, but your will be done God" and then when it doesn't happen they get all riled up and say that their faith let them down. Or even worse they get all uppity about The God That Failed. That's not it man, you just don't understand. See, prayer has more in common with Zen than it does with wishing. Prayer is about realizing that you have very little control in the world and when you ask God for something you are acknowledging that you cannot do it on your own. Your fiat is comprised of limitations, my friend. Prayer is about realizing that some things happen and some things don't. Its ok to want a specific thing to happen, but its better to realize that it MAY NOT happen. Prayer has an inverse effect in this way, by realizing that it may not happen you free yourself from the burden of trying to force something that cannot be. Prayer is about freedom, not taking on new things or getting things to happen. Its about understanding your role in the universe, hoping that certain things will happen, and if they do then acknowledging the very little role you had in producing them. And if they don't happen, acknowledging the very little role you had in producing them. Prayer is a submission of your will to a higher Will.
At the moment I am praying harder than I ever have. I am fasting from 11 am to 4 pm every day. It may not sound as bad--lots of people skip lunch--but no snacking and no weekend food is difficult. I've been doing it since Dec. 4th when I knew that shit was messing up w/ The Girl. Thats nearly 90 Days. I'm dying here. I've lost so much weight (I'm nearly 139lbs) and I've no energy. On top of that I pray the rosary 2 times a day, a St. Jude Novena daily, and other random things from time to time. I don't disclose to brag, in fact most of the ppl who read this prolly are feeling the opposite of impressed, but to show that at the moment, I'm doing all that I can to fuckin' submit right now. My entire life is out of my hands, and that worries me. I just want it to be the right hands.
But you see, through prayer I feel like I have reached this place where I know what I can and cannot do. I cannot make my world what I wish it to be. But perhaps my wish isn't what is best for me. Prayer is a submission of your will to a higher Will.
And that, my friends, is a muthafucka.
You see, the thing people don't understand about prayer is you are asking ASKING, its not a damn wish list or anything. Even the English word backs me up on this. Congratulations, Blogger Guy, you just used Funk & Wagnalls to win an argument.
But seriously. What is prayer. I don't really know. But to me, prayer is the humble submission of my will for a greater Will. Its asking for something to be done, but by asking you release your control over the situation. See, we Christians get it wrong. We make God into this big fucking Santa Clause that delivers in 30 minutes or less. Its more than that. People don't understand the power of asking. When you pray you submit to your will for a greater Will. Follow me here.
You see, people often say "I want X, but your will be done God" and then when it doesn't happen they get all riled up and say that their faith let them down. Or even worse they get all uppity about The God That Failed. That's not it man, you just don't understand. See, prayer has more in common with Zen than it does with wishing. Prayer is about realizing that you have very little control in the world and when you ask God for something you are acknowledging that you cannot do it on your own. Your fiat is comprised of limitations, my friend. Prayer is about realizing that some things happen and some things don't. Its ok to want a specific thing to happen, but its better to realize that it MAY NOT happen. Prayer has an inverse effect in this way, by realizing that it may not happen you free yourself from the burden of trying to force something that cannot be. Prayer is about freedom, not taking on new things or getting things to happen. Its about understanding your role in the universe, hoping that certain things will happen, and if they do then acknowledging the very little role you had in producing them. And if they don't happen, acknowledging the very little role you had in producing them. Prayer is a submission of your will to a higher Will.
At the moment I am praying harder than I ever have. I am fasting from 11 am to 4 pm every day. It may not sound as bad--lots of people skip lunch--but no snacking and no weekend food is difficult. I've been doing it since Dec. 4th when I knew that shit was messing up w/ The Girl. Thats nearly 90 Days. I'm dying here. I've lost so much weight (I'm nearly 139lbs) and I've no energy. On top of that I pray the rosary 2 times a day, a St. Jude Novena daily, and other random things from time to time. I don't disclose to brag, in fact most of the ppl who read this prolly are feeling the opposite of impressed, but to show that at the moment, I'm doing all that I can to fuckin' submit right now. My entire life is out of my hands, and that worries me. I just want it to be the right hands.
But you see, through prayer I feel like I have reached this place where I know what I can and cannot do. I cannot make my world what I wish it to be. But perhaps my wish isn't what is best for me. Prayer is a submission of your will to a higher Will.
And that, my friends, is a muthafucka.
Absent information...
The mind is an echo chamber. That's why its good to get outside opinions. You let a few stray thoughts ruminate too long inside your head and you're done for. The voices catch up to you, everything's a conspiracy, faces become ugly when you are alone, women seem wicked when you are unwanted, streets are uneven when you are down ...Or something like that.
The truth of the matter is that from time to time our minds are our own worst enemy. Take, for example, me! I'm over think everything to the point of paralysis. Now, my ability to think through things is my greatest asset: I can see the whole problem and often can craft a great solution. The problem is that sometimes I'm allowed to ruminate on a problem far too long, it becomes too personal, I can't separate facts from opinions, and shit happens. I think this happens to all of us, but I'd rather pick on me than you. So lets consider me.
Absent information, I supply my own. That's the worst. I have no clue what The Girl thinks of our situation and so I supply my own narrative instead of just relaxing and letting it be. You see, she didn't exactly come out and tell me she is coming. She told me as she was telling Jimmy (see Last Night... post). Obviously, she wanted me to know (otherwise she wouldn't have used my blackberry as her medium) but in my mind this causes 3 scenarios:
1, She wanted to kill two birds with one stone and told me while talking to Jimmy. Its texting after all. Not fucking Shakespeare. Don't read too much into it. Dick.
2, She knew I would find out sooner or later and thought that through Jimmy she could 'tell' me without telling me, thus diffusing a situation where she has to say "but I'm not spending time with you while I'm here, I'll be busy." AKA, I'm coming to see other people, and you're gonna turn it into something its not. Fuck off.
3, She wanted to tell me but Jimmy was there and the moment seemed inevitable. In this scenario, she wanted it to be a quasi-surprise but since Jimmy brought up her coming to Philly she felt like "well, the cat is out of the bag" and just went with it. I'm coming to see other people, but all I really wanna see is you.
And from these scenarios you have sub-scenarios, or offshoots. I could show you a flow chart of 'if-thens' but you'd probably shoot me. Or just quit reading. You made it this far, right? Good.
The problem with thinking through this stuff like so is that I'm assigning to her assumptions that I don't even know are remotely true. It could be none of the above or a bit of all three. I have no clue what she thinks and I can't ask her without causing a house of cards to fall and getting stonewalled. She's a cake in the oven: too much movement and it'll fold. I hope she's a triple chocolate cake. That'd be lovely.
We do this, and we're horrible at it. We don't just over think things, we supply our own information when there is none through faulty assumptions! I need to stop. I need to get out of the echo chamber. I need to fuckin' zen.
Yeah, I just verbed that shit. And you should too.
The truth of the matter is that from time to time our minds are our own worst enemy. Take, for example, me! I'm over think everything to the point of paralysis. Now, my ability to think through things is my greatest asset: I can see the whole problem and often can craft a great solution. The problem is that sometimes I'm allowed to ruminate on a problem far too long, it becomes too personal, I can't separate facts from opinions, and shit happens. I think this happens to all of us, but I'd rather pick on me than you. So lets consider me.
Absent information, I supply my own. That's the worst. I have no clue what The Girl thinks of our situation and so I supply my own narrative instead of just relaxing and letting it be. You see, she didn't exactly come out and tell me she is coming. She told me as she was telling Jimmy (see Last Night... post). Obviously, she wanted me to know (otherwise she wouldn't have used my blackberry as her medium) but in my mind this causes 3 scenarios:
1, She wanted to kill two birds with one stone and told me while talking to Jimmy. Its texting after all. Not fucking Shakespeare. Don't read too much into it. Dick.
2, She knew I would find out sooner or later and thought that through Jimmy she could 'tell' me without telling me, thus diffusing a situation where she has to say "but I'm not spending time with you while I'm here, I'll be busy." AKA, I'm coming to see other people, and you're gonna turn it into something its not. Fuck off.
3, She wanted to tell me but Jimmy was there and the moment seemed inevitable. In this scenario, she wanted it to be a quasi-surprise but since Jimmy brought up her coming to Philly she felt like "well, the cat is out of the bag" and just went with it. I'm coming to see other people, but all I really wanna see is you.
And from these scenarios you have sub-scenarios, or offshoots. I could show you a flow chart of 'if-thens' but you'd probably shoot me. Or just quit reading. You made it this far, right? Good.
The problem with thinking through this stuff like so is that I'm assigning to her assumptions that I don't even know are remotely true. It could be none of the above or a bit of all three. I have no clue what she thinks and I can't ask her without causing a house of cards to fall and getting stonewalled. She's a cake in the oven: too much movement and it'll fold. I hope she's a triple chocolate cake. That'd be lovely.
We do this, and we're horrible at it. We don't just over think things, we supply our own information when there is none through faulty assumptions! I need to stop. I need to get out of the echo chamber. I need to fuckin' zen.
Yeah, I just verbed that shit. And you should too.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
A letter sent to The Girl
Sent this for Valentine's Day via hand written snail mail. Thought it was appropriate to post. Unsure why. Never got an acknowledgment from her but really, how does one acknowledge such things?
Happy Valentine’s Day The Girl,
While I wish I was there to see you and explore Chicago I understand that all things happen when they need to happen. However, I also know that there is no need for a holiday to express my appreciation for having you in my life. Others need days like this to comprehend the significance of those around them but I do not. You are a great woman, The Girl, and have given me immeasurable moments of happiness, joy, and love. You have made my life a charmed life and for that I cannot thank you enough. Our love is unique and is beholden to a robust, mysterious expression of emotions and affections that we have set out to explore. It is an adventure, and I there is only one person I want with me on this journey.
You.
In hope and love,
My Name
P.S.-I miss pouncing on Saturday mornings. Thanks for putting up with that.
Happy Valentine’s Day The Girl,
While I wish I was there to see you and explore Chicago I understand that all things happen when they need to happen. However, I also know that there is no need for a holiday to express my appreciation for having you in my life. Others need days like this to comprehend the significance of those around them but I do not. You are a great woman, The Girl, and have given me immeasurable moments of happiness, joy, and love. You have made my life a charmed life and for that I cannot thank you enough. Our love is unique and is beholden to a robust, mysterious expression of emotions and affections that we have set out to explore. It is an adventure, and I there is only one person I want with me on this journey.
You.
In hope and love,
My Name
P.S.-I miss pouncing on Saturday mornings. Thanks for putting up with that.
So God...
What about him?
Thats the problem. Its a fucking him. I hate that. I'm a man and I don't even want a man god. I want a GOD. The problem with Christianity is that we've coopted some bad habits from the Greeks. Our God is technically YHWH. Thats Yahweh to to the uninitiated. The term in and of itself means "to be" and thats our God. God is existence. God is the "is" inside of all verbs, and you can't 'verb' if you don't exist (hence the 'is').
See, Moses was asking for God's name at the burning bush because well, thats what we do. We ask for names. Names are powerful. If I used real names here ppl would be like "I KNOW THAT PERSON!" and then boom, an entirely new context. Thats why The Girl, is The Girl and not Jenna (fooled ya ;-). Back to God. See, Moses wanted God's name so that the Hebrews would know that he was truly sent by God. In short, Moses wanted a name, a concept, and a conjuring ability to 'channel' God (you see this later on with him hitting the rock instead of politely asking for water to spring forth. He wants to conjure. Why? B/c when you conjure, who holds the power, you or God?).
God gives him a verb. God gives him a real understanding of what it means to be God. God gives him existence. God is the 'Is.' My God is the big B, the thing unto which all other things be. That doesn't make God Pantheistic. God isn't 'everything' as much as God is the 'to be' unwhich all things be. God creates things unto themselves (this is why there is free will as opposed to us being puppets to God's will). Its panENthic.
Now, if only I knew what this grand existence meant for my life. I just want to know. Beer, you're not helping.
What about him?
Thats the problem. Its a fucking him. I hate that. I'm a man and I don't even want a man god. I want a GOD. The problem with Christianity is that we've coopted some bad habits from the Greeks. Our God is technically YHWH. Thats Yahweh to to the uninitiated. The term in and of itself means "to be" and thats our God. God is existence. God is the "is" inside of all verbs, and you can't 'verb' if you don't exist (hence the 'is').
See, Moses was asking for God's name at the burning bush because well, thats what we do. We ask for names. Names are powerful. If I used real names here ppl would be like "I KNOW THAT PERSON!" and then boom, an entirely new context. Thats why The Girl, is The Girl and not Jenna (fooled ya ;-). Back to God. See, Moses wanted God's name so that the Hebrews would know that he was truly sent by God. In short, Moses wanted a name, a concept, and a conjuring ability to 'channel' God (you see this later on with him hitting the rock instead of politely asking for water to spring forth. He wants to conjure. Why? B/c when you conjure, who holds the power, you or God?).
God gives him a verb. God gives him a real understanding of what it means to be God. God gives him existence. God is the 'Is.' My God is the big B, the thing unto which all other things be. That doesn't make God Pantheistic. God isn't 'everything' as much as God is the 'to be' unwhich all things be. God creates things unto themselves (this is why there is free will as opposed to us being puppets to God's will). Its panENthic.
Now, if only I knew what this grand existence meant for my life. I just want to know. Beer, you're not helping.
A letter to a friend on Facebook
The names have been changed to protect the innocent:
Courtney,
I've been thinking about you. You and I have an odd relationship. We started dating and my shit with Myra, and your shit with Brad (Brad, right?) got in the way. It happens. So we became something else altogehter. Not sure what it was or what it is and what it will be. But I wanted you to know that you really helped me get beyond lots of things in my life. I remember when we were at a mixer at Spanky's and we were dancing together. Life felt so simple at that time, I hoisted you up and twirled you. All I cared about was that I was too drunk to make you land on your own two feet! Its what I think of when I think of you.
Its odd for me to send that memory to you, but it reminds me of a time when hope was abundant and we could do anything. There are few moments in our lives when life feels so right and so simple. We complicate things. We change things. Life moves on. I'm not sure what trajectory you have with yours and I know that your illness is debilitating. I hate that for you, it stymies your happiness and it kills me to see such a great person feel so much pain. I wish that I could alleviate it, but I no longer have that hope. I'm not a superman, nor a doctor, and I cannot. But do know, that there was a time when I genuinely loved you. Not romantic love, not friendship love, but Love. And that time began at Telula's and continues to this day. You're a great person. I'm glad to have you in my life. Even if we meet all too briefly.
Anyways, I was thinking of you and wanted you to know. Be well, smile. And most of all, know that there is always someone thinking of you.
Courtney,
I've been thinking about you. You and I have an odd relationship. We started dating and my shit with Myra, and your shit with Brad (Brad, right?) got in the way. It happens. So we became something else altogehter. Not sure what it was or what it is and what it will be. But I wanted you to know that you really helped me get beyond lots of things in my life. I remember when we were at a mixer at Spanky's and we were dancing together. Life felt so simple at that time, I hoisted you up and twirled you. All I cared about was that I was too drunk to make you land on your own two feet! Its what I think of when I think of you.
Its odd for me to send that memory to you, but it reminds me of a time when hope was abundant and we could do anything. There are few moments in our lives when life feels so right and so simple. We complicate things. We change things. Life moves on. I'm not sure what trajectory you have with yours and I know that your illness is debilitating. I hate that for you, it stymies your happiness and it kills me to see such a great person feel so much pain. I wish that I could alleviate it, but I no longer have that hope. I'm not a superman, nor a doctor, and I cannot. But do know, that there was a time when I genuinely loved you. Not romantic love, not friendship love, but Love. And that time began at Telula's and continues to this day. You're a great person. I'm glad to have you in my life. Even if we meet all too briefly.
Anyways, I was thinking of you and wanted you to know. Be well, smile. And most of all, know that there is always someone thinking of you.
So yeah...
I trust you, one day we will get to theology. Its been a The Girl heavy week. Primarily because I have a big decision that I can't make coming up next week. The big decision, you ask? Well, you prolly didn't ask, but what the hell. For the last two years I wanted to study with this one person in Belgium, Lieven Boeve, he's the top scholar in my field. You study with him, you're made. And I could be made. But... Well, lets just say life got in the way.
I got accepted while I was in Chicago, with The Girl, in a hotel room. It was amazing. I made it. My dream that I had carried on my back since 19 years young had finally been achieved. But; I saw her face. that was it, and I knew. I couldn't leave this woman. I just couldn't. When we started dating, I thought to myself: "Self: she's the exact same age as your last, you know what happened. She went all existential on you and left your sorry ass just as you were thinking she was it."
So I was cautious with The Girl. She couldn't get to me. Her minor peculiarities intrigued me but I also used them to keep her at bay. I loved her but I tried to be wary of the 'crisis' impending. When I saw that face when I told her I got accepted to Belgium, I knew. I knew that I never kept her at bay, that she was me and I was her. It was there that I knew that I couldn't leave her without being forced to do so. Thus, I said that I "couldn't get a Visa in time" (a bit of a stretch, Belgium, after all, is not China and I got a Visa to China within two weeks. Whatever.) and had to defer so I could be with her. I didn't tell her this, but I knew. I also knew that it gave me time to check out other schools, which is what I was doing while I was waiting on the word from Belgium (I know the time thing is tricky here so let me refresh: I was in Chicago, while I was there I was looking at other schools assuming that I wouldn't get into Belgium which had delayed my acceptance for lots of strange occurrences, so while I was checking out Chicago schools I got accepted to Belgium. There, caught up?). I found a great school in Chi-town, Loyola, that basically had all that I wanted except Lieven and the prestige that followed. Can you guess what I'm waiting on now?
Loyola said that their decision would be made late Feb and that I'd know either later Feb or early March, and I'm waiting. This decision is killing me. Its literally the decider between a life without The Girl or the possibility of life with her. If I go to Loyola, I'm not sure that we'll be back together. I know that things are too fickle for that, but it gives me an in. And all I need is an in. I love her, I'll get her, and if I don't then something greater will come along. But I cannot do life without trying. If I go to Belgium, I'll be happy. Life will be sweet. Nectar will rush from my nipples. But, I need The Girl.
Have you ever done something purely for the hope of Love? Not love, but Love? The grand ideal. This is my pure push into faith, hope and love. This woman guides my sun. She brings across the stars of my universe. How could I NOT give Chicago the chance? Now, if it doesn't work out, I'll have a great life with Chicago. I know Loyola is a great school and that I can become something in Chi-town. But I know even more than that, any greater success I get from Belgium outside of The Girl will be haunted with a great What If.
Now, all I need is Loyola to tell me that I can study at their institution. I'm dyslexic. My grades are good but flawed b/c of it (Science and Lang's in undergrad bring me down, as well as my GRE scores). You put me in an interview and I'd kill. On paper, less so. I need God to help me here. I've been praying, fasting, loving and hoping. Lets see if its meant to be. I hope she knows how hard all of this has been for me.
The Girl isn't all that matters, but she's a huge chunk.
I got accepted while I was in Chicago, with The Girl, in a hotel room. It was amazing. I made it. My dream that I had carried on my back since 19 years young had finally been achieved. But; I saw her face. that was it, and I knew. I couldn't leave this woman. I just couldn't. When we started dating, I thought to myself: "Self: she's the exact same age as your last, you know what happened. She went all existential on you and left your sorry ass just as you were thinking she was it."
So I was cautious with The Girl. She couldn't get to me. Her minor peculiarities intrigued me but I also used them to keep her at bay. I loved her but I tried to be wary of the 'crisis' impending. When I saw that face when I told her I got accepted to Belgium, I knew. I knew that I never kept her at bay, that she was me and I was her. It was there that I knew that I couldn't leave her without being forced to do so. Thus, I said that I "couldn't get a Visa in time" (a bit of a stretch, Belgium, after all, is not China and I got a Visa to China within two weeks. Whatever.) and had to defer so I could be with her. I didn't tell her this, but I knew. I also knew that it gave me time to check out other schools, which is what I was doing while I was waiting on the word from Belgium (I know the time thing is tricky here so let me refresh: I was in Chicago, while I was there I was looking at other schools assuming that I wouldn't get into Belgium which had delayed my acceptance for lots of strange occurrences, so while I was checking out Chicago schools I got accepted to Belgium. There, caught up?). I found a great school in Chi-town, Loyola, that basically had all that I wanted except Lieven and the prestige that followed. Can you guess what I'm waiting on now?
Loyola said that their decision would be made late Feb and that I'd know either later Feb or early March, and I'm waiting. This decision is killing me. Its literally the decider between a life without The Girl or the possibility of life with her. If I go to Loyola, I'm not sure that we'll be back together. I know that things are too fickle for that, but it gives me an in. And all I need is an in. I love her, I'll get her, and if I don't then something greater will come along. But I cannot do life without trying. If I go to Belgium, I'll be happy. Life will be sweet. Nectar will rush from my nipples. But, I need The Girl.
Have you ever done something purely for the hope of Love? Not love, but Love? The grand ideal. This is my pure push into faith, hope and love. This woman guides my sun. She brings across the stars of my universe. How could I NOT give Chicago the chance? Now, if it doesn't work out, I'll have a great life with Chicago. I know Loyola is a great school and that I can become something in Chi-town. But I know even more than that, any greater success I get from Belgium outside of The Girl will be haunted with a great What If.
Now, all I need is Loyola to tell me that I can study at their institution. I'm dyslexic. My grades are good but flawed b/c of it (Science and Lang's in undergrad bring me down, as well as my GRE scores). You put me in an interview and I'd kill. On paper, less so. I need God to help me here. I've been praying, fasting, loving and hoping. Lets see if its meant to be. I hope she knows how hard all of this has been for me.
The Girl isn't all that matters, but she's a huge chunk.
Last Night...
I'm awash in a sea of pussy, and I want a life boat.
Last night my bud Jimmy, whose girl is in Ibiza of all places, decides to take me out. We go to a nice warm up bar and then head over to G' Lounge, which is the most expensive loitering spot I've ever seen. 'People' pay 20 dollars just to stand here. We knew people so we got in for 10, and the drinks weren't horribly over priced (a well drink, like a Tom Collins, costs 10) and the talent was pretty fetching. So on any other night I could see why a man would pay such an extraordinary amount of money to stand next to loud speakers: women. But this wasn't any ordinary night for me. This was a night where you couldn't really have any fun because your mind was elsewhere.
Back up a bit, tonight I got three interesting messages. One from an old flame who mentioned that its been 5 years since we've seen each other. Imagine that. Inevitably you know where this is heading: after a 15 minutes of chit chat we decided to lock it down: she'll be spending a weekend here sometime in the relative future. Second interesting message came from a woman I barely know. It was in the form of a mms. It was her naked body on my blackberry. Woohoo? And the other interesting message was from The Girl. She said she just got my message from 8 hrs ago b/c she was in her studio and she knows Jimmy so we had a bit of a three way text convo. Turns out she's coming down (possibly) in the middle of March. Now you can see why the other girls get a nonplussed reaction. As happy as I am to be able to see her, I'm caught a bit off guard that she picked now, talking essentially to Jimmy, to bring up that she's coming. But then again, why not? Its a good way to diffuse things.
I'm awash in a sea of pussy and I want a life boat.
I have this problem with picking up women. Sometimes I can be too good at it and it gets me in trouble. I'm essentially throwing women down this big void inside me at the moment hoping that one can stem the tide. I need a damn, I need a dike (hopefully you get the pun). For Valentine's day I had 7 dates in 7 days and well, 2 surprise visits which you technically can't call dates. No, I didn't fuck them all, and no this isn't some type of bragging thing. I'm just picking up girls because I think she's picking up men. I'm incappable of leaving the opposite sex alone because I don't want to be alone. Now these girls were of good quality, but nothing stands up to the hyper-idealized picture of The Girl. Now do they?
Last night I pulled a classic move. We were walking away from the bar after we bought our drinks and I notice this girl wearing a colorful dress. Women, sadly, don't wear much color anymore in the evening. In the club it was all black or shiny silver. So as we walk past her friends I stop. "I'm sorry but I must interrupt for a second, my dear, that is a bitchin' dress you're wearing. And you wear it well. I felt like it needed to be said. I hope that you all have a lovely evening." And then I walk away. You see, you have to lay a foundation with some women. I don't have a bank account the size of center city and I don't have muscles on top of muscles so you have to be inventive. What I did here was give her validation for her outfit choice, made her and her friends blush, gave them a story for the cab ride, and, most importantly, around 1 o'clock, an in for a conversation. It worked. Got her digits.
But see, thats the problem. I didn't really want them. I didn't want to see Elise's tits on my phone tonight either. I just want my life to either move forward with The Girl, or to move on. But I can't. I'm in suspended animation right now. This woman, this beautiful woman. Has me. and no bitchin' dress in the world is going to change that. Yet.
Last night my bud Jimmy, whose girl is in Ibiza of all places, decides to take me out. We go to a nice warm up bar and then head over to G' Lounge, which is the most expensive loitering spot I've ever seen. 'People' pay 20 dollars just to stand here. We knew people so we got in for 10, and the drinks weren't horribly over priced (a well drink, like a Tom Collins, costs 10) and the talent was pretty fetching. So on any other night I could see why a man would pay such an extraordinary amount of money to stand next to loud speakers: women. But this wasn't any ordinary night for me. This was a night where you couldn't really have any fun because your mind was elsewhere.
Back up a bit, tonight I got three interesting messages. One from an old flame who mentioned that its been 5 years since we've seen each other. Imagine that. Inevitably you know where this is heading: after a 15 minutes of chit chat we decided to lock it down: she'll be spending a weekend here sometime in the relative future. Second interesting message came from a woman I barely know. It was in the form of a mms. It was her naked body on my blackberry. Woohoo? And the other interesting message was from The Girl. She said she just got my message from 8 hrs ago b/c she was in her studio and she knows Jimmy so we had a bit of a three way text convo. Turns out she's coming down (possibly) in the middle of March. Now you can see why the other girls get a nonplussed reaction. As happy as I am to be able to see her, I'm caught a bit off guard that she picked now, talking essentially to Jimmy, to bring up that she's coming. But then again, why not? Its a good way to diffuse things.
I'm awash in a sea of pussy and I want a life boat.
I have this problem with picking up women. Sometimes I can be too good at it and it gets me in trouble. I'm essentially throwing women down this big void inside me at the moment hoping that one can stem the tide. I need a damn, I need a dike (hopefully you get the pun). For Valentine's day I had 7 dates in 7 days and well, 2 surprise visits which you technically can't call dates. No, I didn't fuck them all, and no this isn't some type of bragging thing. I'm just picking up girls because I think she's picking up men. I'm incappable of leaving the opposite sex alone because I don't want to be alone. Now these girls were of good quality, but nothing stands up to the hyper-idealized picture of The Girl. Now do they?
Last night I pulled a classic move. We were walking away from the bar after we bought our drinks and I notice this girl wearing a colorful dress. Women, sadly, don't wear much color anymore in the evening. In the club it was all black or shiny silver. So as we walk past her friends I stop. "I'm sorry but I must interrupt for a second, my dear, that is a bitchin' dress you're wearing. And you wear it well. I felt like it needed to be said. I hope that you all have a lovely evening." And then I walk away. You see, you have to lay a foundation with some women. I don't have a bank account the size of center city and I don't have muscles on top of muscles so you have to be inventive. What I did here was give her validation for her outfit choice, made her and her friends blush, gave them a story for the cab ride, and, most importantly, around 1 o'clock, an in for a conversation. It worked. Got her digits.
But see, thats the problem. I didn't really want them. I didn't want to see Elise's tits on my phone tonight either. I just want my life to either move forward with The Girl, or to move on. But I can't. I'm in suspended animation right now. This woman, this beautiful woman. Has me. and no bitchin' dress in the world is going to change that. Yet.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
So what is this about?
I'm all over the place lately. Its intriguing, my life. I'm quite a success in several ways. Honestly, I am! And I'm not bragging, I had several goals and in my 27 young years I've accomplished them or am on the right track to accomplishing them. I went out, got into my top school, got a masters, have taught for two years, and will leave for my PhD next fall. Life is good.
But...
There is this woman. There is always this woman. I lost her because, well, not sure why to be honest. I think she went down the rabbit hole or something. We talk, we dance around the issue. We may get back together. We'll have to see. But who knows. This won't be some melodramatic blog, but I may hit on that issue from time to time.
Another But...
I've gotta figure some shit out concerning schools. I'm waiting to hear back from one school in Chicago, and I've been accepted to a school in Belgium. Awesome! Right? Well, yes and no. To understand it a bit, you have realize, the girl, she's from Chicago. And... that changes things. Go to Chicago, could win the girl. Go to Belgium, new life. Go to hell.
But...
There is this woman. There is always this woman. I lost her because, well, not sure why to be honest. I think she went down the rabbit hole or something. We talk, we dance around the issue. We may get back together. We'll have to see. But who knows. This won't be some melodramatic blog, but I may hit on that issue from time to time.
Another But...
I've gotta figure some shit out concerning schools. I'm waiting to hear back from one school in Chicago, and I've been accepted to a school in Belgium. Awesome! Right? Well, yes and no. To understand it a bit, you have realize, the girl, she's from Chicago. And... that changes things. Go to Chicago, could win the girl. Go to Belgium, new life. Go to hell.
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