(Sally: This one has some things you may take issue with. I wouldn’t recommend it. Not today anyway.)
Not too long ago a buddy of mine was visiting me in sunny south Florida. Right before he left to make the atrocious 11-hour drive back to Nashville he decided to impart some unsolicited words of wisdom on me. He informed me that the one thing that would “complete” me “as a man” would be a little puppy. To this ridiculous statement (as if I need anything to complete me as a man, I’m pretty darn perfect) I laughed, and told him that would never happen. He attempted to convince of me of his idea for what seemed like way too long to be discussing whether or not I should own a puppy, and when his attempts ended fruitless he started his venture back to Nashville (leaving the better portion of his clothes in my dryer. I hope he doesn’t need those anytime soon). Continue reading Why I Don’t Own Pets (or have children)
(Sally: I think this is mainly ok for you to read. There may be a little harsh language throughout, but I hope you get a chance to enjoy. And for all the people who know Sally and read my blog, let her know)
There are a few areas in life where I am not fully adept at coping in the proper ways. I am lucky enough to know this about myself and am glad I can recognize this as my flaw. I have never been the best with handling breakups, either as the dumper, or the dumpee, which is why I don’t date anymore. I would rather just hang out with someone until we mutually get tired of each other and then amicably split ways. I have found it is much less messy that way. When real labels and emotions are placed on relationships is when people’s feelings get hurt. This drags on way too long and eventually I am either breaking up with you in a fashion where you will call me a narcissistic sociopath (Shannon), or you are breaking up with me and I have to struggle through months of alcoholism in order to come out on the other side realizing you are a terrible individual who has the ability to be the Typhoid Mary of every STD known to man and the only benefit to our relationship was that I didn’t end up with some disease that would have cost me my (and some friends of mine, their) favorite body parts. Normally, though, one can tell when a relationship is about to end and can typically brace themselves for the shock of losing someone they considered someone who would be a positive influence in their lives. What I don’t deal with is when you don’t see a relationship of any stature ending. This can apply to significant others, parents, family members of any variety, friends, Romans, countrymen and so many other types of relationships. What I don’t cope with properly is when people pass away. Continue reading Putting the Fun Back in Funeral
(*Sally: Do not read this one. Actually, if you know me personally you may not want to read this one)
As I was sitting in a Starbucks with a friend of mine who was detailing the horrors of sex education, and how the absolute fear of utilizing what she didn’t know was called a diaphragm made her completely uncomfortable (a conversation that made me completely uncomfortable) I started to remember the years before I became the person I am today, when I was still under the impression I would wait until marriage to lose my virginity, and envisioned that by this point in my life I would be a happy, successful, family man (run on sentence for the win). That was a long time ago, before my heart had grown calloused to the thought of being in a relationship and still believed in things like Cameron Crowe movies, and that John Cusack was the best actor in the world. Don’t get me wrong, I still love Cameron Crowe movies, I just don’t believe in love stories anymore (Sorry How I Met Your Mother). Continue reading Sex Ed, Video Stores and V-Cards
(Sally: I think this is actually ok for you to read. You already know about the worst things I talk about in here. I hope you enjoy this one.)
A few nights ago I was talking with my good friend, Carter, on the phone while we were playing backgammon against each other online. This was a throwback to when he and I were roommates in Virgina during our late teens, and then again in our mid-twenties, when we would sit outside on our balcony, smoking cigarettes, drinking beers, and playing backgammon until the sun came up. Then we would walk over to the McDonalds a block away and get breakfast (this was before a McDonalds breakfast would cause me to spend the better portion of my day reading in the bathroom). While we were playing the virtual game the other night, he started reminiscing about the days when we were living lives that were more or less void of any sort of responsibility. Instead they were filled with nights of playing backgammon while sitting at Mike’s Diner with a group of modern day self-prescribed beatniks, drinking coffee and waxing on philosophically about the simple fact that “2 is always less than or equal to 4.”
(Sally, I have no idea what this story is going to be about yet. Proceed with caution if you choose, but be prepared to read something that disappoints you about your son. Edit: don’t read this. You will abhor some of the subject matter.)
My editor (and sister) and I don’t really see eye to eye when it comes to politics. After reading my last entry on this site, she responded by asking me when I became boring. What can I say? I finally graduated college (lots of people take 7 years to graduate college) and found a passion. Who knew it would be Libertarian politics and dating people who are 11 years younger than me? (actually, anyone who knows me probably saw the latter coming) The fact of the matter is I am boring now, and I hate that about who I have become. I spend most of my time alone. I do go out and hang out in public at night, but even as I’m out among the crowds, I am spending the bulk of that time in my head wondering what exactly happened in my life that lead me here. Am I upset about my lot in life? No. I would never say that. Anyone who has read my stories knows I enjoy drinking from the chalice of life allowing it to drip from my lips as I chug the sweet juice attempting to get every ounce of pleasure from it. Somewhere along the way though, that pleasure switched from blowing lines of cocaine and ketamine to organizing politically charged social gatherings, while dreading someone dropping off a free pan of lasagna on my front porch.
(Sally: I openly express later on in this story how I don’t know why I continue to do things that would make you ashamed of me. So please don’t read past this line.)
Writing this will be mildly difficult. I don’t want to give away anything about the other members of this story so I will have to not only change the names of the people in this story as I tend to do, but the timeline will be off and what city it occurred in will be a city that I never lived in, and the job I say I have may or may not be the job I had at the time, as to truly protect everyone involved in this story (which in all honesty is one or two other people, but they don’t need me to air their dirty laundry…unlike everyone else I write about. Huh. I must actually care about them). Basically, what you are about to read has been turned into a work of fiction based on many different experiences in my life that have been conglomerated into one story (It’s kind of amazing how often I find myself in this situation), and my desire to truly protect one person. Continue reading The Last Right Thing I Did (Followed By The Next Wrong)
(Sally: Do not! Do not! Do not! You don’t want this in your head. I 100% promise you that. Do not open this link.)
(Everyone else: If you know me, this may change the way you see me and not in the same way as other stories may have changed the way you see me. This story is really dark. Be warned before proceeding.)
Right now, Jupiter can be viewed from earth by the naked eye. That doesn’t have a lot to do with the story I’m about to tell, but does have a lot to say about the importance of timing in our lives.
Timing is uncontrollable, and undeniable. There is this girl I had a crush on a while back, but I didn’t have her number so I couldn’t get in contact with her. One day I went to the gym (because even perfection needs maintenance) and realized once I got there I had left all of my swimming gear at home. I drove back to the house, grabbed my gear, and got back to the gym as quickly as I could. As I was walking through the lobby of the gym, the girl I had a crush on happened to be walking through at the exact same time. We talked for a few minutes, and I almost asked her out, but I am a huge sissy when it comes to asking out girls that I actually like, so I didn’t (I know, the ending is very anticlimactic, but it goes along with the theme). If I hadn’t forgotten my gym stuff, I would have already been in the pool swimming with absolutely no chance of running into her, the opportunity to ask her out would not have presented itself, and I would be able to live with the delusions I would ask her out if ever I randomly bumped into her out in public. Now, I can’t.