Home for the Holidays

I sat talking to my good friend for hours, which seems to be happening much more frequently as of late. Talking to her has been a refreshing change of pace. I haven't just talked to someone on the phone for hours in a very long time. We were talking about me being home for the holidays. I've been away from home, you know, in the sense of not living with my parents for about five years. You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone. You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know? You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start. It's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place. Don't get the wrong idea, I've thoroughly enjoyed my time back in southern Nevada. I've missed my family. I've missed the familiarity of this place. The deafening roar of my parents, aunts, and uncle's laughter. The vast array of aromas. It feels like Christmas. It IS Christmas. For some reason I can't quite comprehend though, this just doesn't feel like home anymore. Speaking of ear-splitting laughter, I'm currently listening to my ipod on almost full volume and I can still hear my family laughing. I'm pretty happy I was able to see Billy and Andy. It's been years since we've all hung out together. It felt like old times, us four (Mario was with us as well) hanging out. It was hard not to reminisce about better days. I miss my friends. I miss the person I used to be. It's strange to me how much I've changed in such a short time. Time passes. People change. Some for better. Others for worse. I used to be much more driven. Much more carefree. I used to think I was invincible. I miss feeling like that. I mean, I'm still a hard-working and driven guy, but back then....I was naive. Maybe that's the only thing that's changed about me. My naivety. In any case, this is who am now. I'm rather anxious to get back to Utah. To my friends, who in a short time have become my surrogate family. They say home is where the heart is, right? I'm not so sure about that, but I do know that for the time being, Utah feels like home. It feels...right. Happy Holidays. May wherever you be, feel like home.

The Focus and Winnamucca: How WoW saved my life.

Being Jake's best friend is no easy task. During the tenure of our hetero-relationship, we've done a countless number of idiotic things. This story takes place in July of 2009, and it's become one of the more popular stories I like to tell about Jake and myself. At the time, I was in the process of moving to Reno with my then-girlfriend Tracy. Jake had relocated to Utah and I still lived in Vegas. Before Jake's unfortunate mishap at McCarren International Airport (which in itself is a funny story), we had talked about moving to Reno together. That way I'd at least have my best friend to live with. Things took a turn for the worse and Jake ended up moving to Utah, but still had intentions of moving to Reno with me once we were ready. Before I knew it, it was July and I needed to scope the situation in Reno out because Tracy and I were moving in August. I called Jake and arranged for both of us to head to Reno for a few days and look for apartments and register at UNR. Our plan was for me to fly from Vegas to Reno and for Jake to drive from Salt Lake so we'd have a vehicle to drive while there. This didn't sit well with Jake due to the fact that he would have had to drive eight hours by himself. Selfish asshole, right? After much bitching, he finally talked me into flying from Vegas to Salt Lake to then drive to Reno together from there. As it turns out, this was mistake number one.

I arrived at the Salt Lake airport at about noon on a Sunday. This gave us all day Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday to do what we needed to do and be back in Salt Lake by 6:00pm Wednesday to catch my returning flight home to Vegas. Sounds pretty simple, right? We leave the airport at around 12:30pm and the drive is about as boring as watching dead people play chess. About two hours into our drive, we come across a town on the Utah / Nevada border called "Wendover". This little town is Utah's Las Vegas. I know the area pretty well because I grew up in a small town called Elko, which is two hours away from Wendover. For a good part of my childhood, a few of my aunts lived there, so we'd always visit. We stop in Wendover to gas the vehicle up and Jake drops a bit of information that was previously unknown to me.

Jake: So, I hope you're cool if we stop in Elko for like an hour.

Me: Why? I grew up in Elko....that place is fail.

Jake: Well, a couple of guys I play WoW with live in Elko. I've been playing WoW with them for like three years and I've never met them. I told them we were going through there to get to Reno and they want to have lunch.

Me: Oh shit, really? Yeah that's cool. Only if we eat at Nine Beans and a Burrito though. That place is the tits.

Nine Beans was a place my family frequented when we lived in Elko. Their quesadillas are heaven-sent, I swear to God. Turns out, his two WoW buddies thought so too because that's where they suggested we meet them. The two hours in between Wendover and Elko were just as boring as the previous two between Wendover and Salt Lake. Good thing Jake had a Book of Mormon in his car. Reading that thing was pretty entertaining. Just some of the ridiculous shit they believe, really boggled our minds and gave us a good laugh. We get to Elko in a reasonable amount of time and we meet up with "Tharms" and his friend Ronnie. Ok, so Tharms isn't his real name, it's actually Preston. We meet them and they look like pretty laid back dudes. Preston and Ronnie are both around 19-20, and look like my kind of people. I could definitely have a couple of beers with these kids. Side note: it's always bugged me that there's some sort of stigma about people who play WoW. There's this stereotype that people who play WoW are acne-ridden fat kids who live at home in their parent's basement. Not entirely true. I've met Physics majors, Lawyers, and even professional athletes who play WoW. Do me a favor and go to Google and search "Celebrities who play WoW" and prepare to shit bricks. Okay, back on topic. Anywho, so we ordered some food and just sat and bullshit with these guys for around two hours. Mostly WoW talk, how long they'd "known" Jake in game, some of our funniest memories, yada yada yada. After a while, the topic of Reno popped up.

Preston: So, what're you guys doing in Reno?

Me: Well, I'm planning on moving there and we wanted to scope out some housing and get my shit done for UNR.

Preston: Oh, that's sick dude. I actually live in Reno, I'm just here in Elko for the summer helping my parents out. Come to think of it, the majority of my roommates are out of town, you guys are more than welcome to crash at my place as long as you want.

Jake: Seriously? Yeah dude that'd be awesome.

Preston: Yeah man, anything for Whitelight. I owe him more gold than you could imagine, it's the least I could do.

So it was set. We had a place to crash thanks to WoW. Beat the hell out of having to pay for a hotel for 3 nights! We said our farewells and got back on the road. It's another four hours to Reno, so I took this leg of the drive. Just as boring as the last four. Book of Mormon helped us out again. We arrived in Reno at about 9pm on Sunday. Got to Preston's house after a 30 min debacle with the directions. (Jake is a horrible co-pilot) His house was legit. Right on the UNR campus, and his setup was phenomenal. A room dedicated to beer pong, with a regulation-sized table, official rules posted on the wall (For scrubs who try to cheat. Always a good idea to post house rules), and not a fraction of any wall was uncovered. The walls were littered with band posters signed by bands and theatrical movie posters. It was insane! His roommate Eric showed us around the house and let us crash on the couches. He was a pretty legit guy too. After partaking in a few beers, we decide we better crash to get things done nice and early.

Day 1 in Reno:

Pretty eventful day for me. For the sake of the story telling, I'll try to sum it up to the focal points. We scoped out housing. I registered my classes for the fall at UNR. We turned in job applications. I was pretty much the most productive kid in America. Headed back to Preston's place and just kinda hung out. Eric's girlfriend was nice enough to let us borrow her Tomtom to make our navigating through Reno that much easier. Good people, I tell ya. Drank beers with Eric and his lady, and passed out. Great day!

Day 2 in Reno:
Everything was perfectly fine on Day Two, up until 2pm. This is when I get the bright idea to leave Reno early.

Me: Dude, we've pretty much done everything there is to do. It's Tuesday. Lets just take off back to Salt Lake. If we leave now, we'll get there by midnight. That gives us all day tomorrow (Wednesday) to hang out and shit. Then you can just take me to the airport at like 5. It's perfect.

Jake: Yeah, for sure. Sounds like a plan.

This...was mistake number two. We dropped off the Tomtom and wrote thank you and goodbye on Preston's fridge, seeing as Eric and his girlfriend were gone when we arrived. We also left them a 24 pack of Bud Light Lime. What can I say, we're good guys! Unfortunately, life doesn't care how good of a person you are, because it will still metaphorically stab you in the jugular with a shard of glass and watch you bleed out. This is the part of the story were shit starts going wrong. In numbers. Fast.

2:30pm We leave Reno with the most positive of attitudes! Our spirits have never been higher. We're listening to great music and having awesome conversations about how our lives are going to turn around. We're invincible at this point. Nothing can stop us.

4:30pm We pass a town that's in between Reno and Elko called Winnamucca. It looks like a seedy meth town. Thank God we don't have to stop there. It would also really suck to break down anywhere near it.

4:31pm We're about a mile out of Winnamucca, when out of nowhere, Jake's car starts to smell funny. That "your car is fucking up" burnt smell fills our nostrils. We pull over to investigate. His car is leaking antifreeze, causing it to overheat. Good thing we have water! Just a hiccup, right?

4:45pm About 15 miles north of Winnamucca, Jake's car is in the red. The car is overheating. It proceeds to flip us off and ceases to function. We pop the hood again and to our horror, his serpentine belt is torn into ribbons. Rubber spaghetti. This can't be good.

4:46pm Jake is having a panic attack. I tell him everything is going to be fine. My dad has had me change serpentine belts numerous times. I got this.

4:46pm I realize that we're about 15 miles away from civilization. How are we getting to Meth-Town? Fuck.

4:50pm After putting out heads together we come to a solution: Call Tracy and have her look up the phone number to an Autozone. We can give them a credit card number to buy the part, then we can just hitchhike there and back with the belt. In my mind, we're set back an hour....tops. Oh, did I forget to mention that neither of us were carrying a good amount of cash? I had around 60 dollars in my backpack, and Jake had around 40. Just enough for gas and snacks. Life is great!

5:00pm A highway patrolman pulls over to try and help us. He isn't much help, but gives us a few phone numbers to some tow places. Oh, Jake saw a snake on the side of the road and freaked out. I giggled.

5:20pm We called the Autozone and spoke to a fine gentleman who sold us the belt! It came to be around 20 dollars, which we put on McKell's card. She gave us the CC number over the phone. Mormon Jesus, bless her soul.(He's for sure different than Normal Jesus. Fact.) The guy also offered to drive it out to us after he was done with his shift. Good news, right? He didn't get off until 9pm. It was 5. When it rains, it pours right?

5:30pm It literally starts to pour. It's pouring rain....in 100 degree weather. Not only is that bad, but we have no air conditioning in the vehicle because the belt that spins the compressor is fucking ripped to shreds. We are now faced with a dilemma: Open the windows to cool off and let rain in, or keep them shut thus staying dry, but frying in the heat. We choose to roll down the windows. Mistake number 3.

5:35pm What happens when it rains in the desert? Mosquitoes decided to pop up out of nowhere. Who rolled the windows down and let mosquitoes into the vehicle? We did. This day just keeps getting better and better.

6:30pm After spending an hour talking about random things to keep our minds off of the fail that were going through, we each take the time to call our respective families and give them an update on our situation. Mosquito bitten and spirits shattered, we wait.

9:30pm Homeboy from Autozone calls us and tells us he's on his way with the belt. Rejoice.

10:45pm Homeboy shows up and hour and fifteen minutes later. He gives us the part and proceeds to examine the car. I think his name was Dan or something. Turns out he was like 17 and had just graduated high school. Lord have mercy. He called himself something ridiculous like a "self-proclaimed auto guy who was in love with cars" What he finds isn't very good.

Dan: Looks like yer water pump pully's all busted up. Yew guys ain't movin' this car tonight. Might as well hitch a ride back inta town and call a tow truck first thing in tha mornin'.

Jake and I exchange looks of dismay. The way we figured it, it was just a minor set back with the belt. We thought we'd be back on the road as soon as he showed up. Instead, we were going to have to spend the night in that little seedy meth town. Awesome. "Dan" proceeds to give us a ride back into town and our conversation with him while en route, shed a little light on the town where we'd be spending our evening.

Jake: So, what is there to do in Winnamucca?

Dan: Drugs. Oh, and sex. But mostly drugs. Did yew know that 3/4 of Nevada's meth comes from 'round here?

We were going to die. That's all there was to it.

11:30pm We made it into town, Dan drops us off on "Main Street", and tells us to call the tow company first thing in the morning. Jake and I are walking down this ominous looking street looking for a place to crash. Oh lord! A Motel 8! Maybe there is a God! We stroll up to the Motel 8 and there is a congregation of about 5 or 6 shady looking meth-heads just hanging out right outside the main office door. We ask one of them if there are any rooms available. She says yes. We breathe a sigh of relief. She then tells us it will be 90 dollars a night. We leave.

11:45pm After walking for what seemed like hours, we get to a grimy looking "casino" called "Winners". The Winners Casino. What kind of name is that? Let me tell you one thing, this place was the opposite of win. It failed in every sense of the word. Luckily the room was only 35 a night, so we give the dude cash and head upstairs to our room to elaborate some sort of game plan for the following day. At this point, Jake is pretty much gone. He has been having a 5 hour long panic attack and is of no help to me. Looks like I'm going to have to save the day all by myself. Yet again. Now, the way that my mind works is very simple. I'm a very logical and strategic thinker. That being said, I don't take into account one very small word, and that's variables. This is the plan that I laid out for us:

6:00am Wake up and get some grub. Have everything ready to go and start walking to the tow place. Get there by 7:00am.

7:00am Get a tow truck to take the car back into town, have them look at it and get it fixed....lets just say that'll take 3 hours. Be back on the road by 10:00am.

10:00am-3:00pm 5 1/2 hour drive to Salt Lake, make it back by like 3-3:30ish, accounting for 5 minute stops for gas. My flight leaves at 6:00pm, it'll work! We can do this!

Pretty solid plan, right? But wait! I didn't take any variables into account! Silly me! So this is what ACTUALLY ended up happening:

6:00am We woke up. Got ready. Packed out stuff. Ate. Started walking to the tow place. What we didn't realize was that the tow place was on the outskirts of town...4 miles away from where we were. Brilliant.

7:00am We'd been walking for about an hour and this place was nowhere in sight. Around this time we catch our first break in this whole debacle: Homeboy strolls up in his truck and offers us a ride to the tow place.

8:00am Tow place opens. Mean lady tells us it will be 20 minutes for Mr. Tow-man to come back. We anxiously wait.

9:30am Tow-man shows up. He looks like he hasn't showered in days. Smells even worse. He picks us up and takes us to the car. Our second break arrives in the form of good news. Apparently the pulley that broke was merely a tension pulley, which is only around twenty bucks. He offers to do the repairs himself. Hail Mary, mother of God! Our break comes screeching to a halt when he tells us that A) The tow would be around 300 scrilla, B) the repair on the car would be around 100, and C) He couldn't even START working on it for about 4 hours. Wanna know how shady this guy was? We had no cash and no card, but he took down McKell's credit card info....OVER THE PHONE.

10:00ish We decide to not let the stinky tow-man fix our vehicle and instead have him drop us off at the Ford dealership in town. While the car gets diagnosed, Jake is still trippin' and I'm still cooking up schemes in my brain. I see an Enterprise Rent-a-Car and my brain is fast at work concocting a plan involving that. Variable-less plan, no doubt. My hopes were high, up until the point when I got to the door of the office. Crudely scrawled on a piece of cardboard were the words: " Gone to lunch. If you need to contact me, use the phone and speed dial 1. Ask for Shiela. -Shiela" The phone mentioned was a cordless house phone jammed between the doorknob and the frame. This town is so charming. I call this so called "Shiela" to hopefully rent a car, but to my dismay, they're all booked until the NEXT day. Just my luck.

10:00ish (cont) We get the diagnostics back on the vehicle and they are grim at best. Blown water pump and a few other things wrong. Couple day's labor, 600 bucks. We're completely demoralized and around this time I'm starting to feel hopeless. Anxious. Scared. We were never leaving Winnemucca.

10:30am After sitting on the Ford dealership's front steps for a good 30 minutes, something occurred to me. A spark of an idea. A slice of fried gold.

Me: Jake. I know how we're getting out of here dude.

Jake: -long stare- .....You're not thinking...

Me: Yup. Call Tharms.

We call Preston. He answers. We fill him in on our situation thus far, and he regrets to tell us that he has to work that day. So much for my brilliant idea.

10:40am Tharms calls us back and tells us that he called in sick to work and is already on his way. Could this be?!

10:40am - 2:00pm The drive from Elko to Winnemucca is about two hours. Due to God hating us however, there just happened to be construction zones all the way between the two. 55 mph tops. It took Preston 3 1/2 hours to get to us. A few noteworthy things happen to Jake and I while we waited though. After we dropped the car off at the shop, we walked to Wal-Mart to dick around while we waited for Preston. Here are a few highlights:

A) I call Tracy to let her know that I'm ok and to ask her to grab the phone number for Southwest so I can change my flight to the following day. She's pissed that I woke her up. I lose my shit, yell at her, then hang up.

B) While roaming Wal-Mart, our spirits are now somewhat back. We start joking around and ask one of the employees if there's an internet cafe around so I can change my flight online, seeing as my girlfriend was being a twat. The following conversation took place.

Me: Excuse me, do you know where I'd be able to find like an internet cafe or something around here?

Lady: Yeah, of course. What you're going to want to do is exit Wal-Mart, then make a right. Make another right at the dirt road and follow that for about a mile. Once you get to the train tracks, cross them and head down for about another half a mile to a fence. At the fence, make a right, go around, and it should be on your left.

Me: Serious? Uuugghhh, ok, thanks.

Seeing as we still had about a two hour wait, we decide to try to head to this internet cafe. Mind you, it's July in Nevada. It was 110 at around 11am, and I'm wearing sweats and carrying around a fucking backpack. Jake's not doing any better. Pasty-white Irish kid rocking sweats and hulking around a backpack as well. Recipe for disaster. We see this dirt road and we start heading down it. After about a mile, we get to the train tracks. We cross the train tracks. We look further ahead and see the fence, but behind the fence are some shitty little shacks, none of which remotely resemble an internet cafe. Either this bitch was messing with us, or sending us to get gutted for our kidneys. Either way, we decide it'd be best to just turn around and head back. Fuck this place.

C) Tracy calls me back and apologizes. I get the number for Southwest from her, tell her I'll call her back later, and hang up. Not so much of a twat now.

D) Jake and I fall asleep on a Wal-Mart bench.

2:00pm Tharms finally arrives and picks us up. I want to cry tears of joy because we're finally leaving this God-awful place.

5:30pm We make it back to Elko. We chilled at Tharm's house and drank a few beers and bullshit about WoW. During the drive, I called Southwest and yelled at them for 45 minutes because they didn't want to change my flight. I wasn't in the mood for any of their shit, so I brought out the big guns. I dropped the "Let me speak to your manager" line. Changed my flight for free. I was now leaving Salt Lake at 6am. While at Preston's, Jake decides to call McKell and ask her if she could pick us up after work. She tells Jake she got off early and had already been on the road for 2 hours. Mac FTW!

7:30pm Mac picks us up from an Arctic Circle.

12:00am We finally reach Ogden. The nightmare is over.

I caught my flight at 6am and went back to Las Vegas. As for Jake? Jake had to leave his car there since we didn't have the cash on hand. He worked for two weeks saving up money. When he had enough, he had to take a Greyhound down to Winnemucca, then drive his car back up. I honestly feel like Jake and I bonded on that trip. I've done a lot of retarded shit, and been in a plethora of fucked up situations, but this singlehandedly had to be the worst experience of my life. I'd never felt such a feeling of hopelessness in my entire life. Hopelessness, mixed with demoralization, mixed with fear, anger, frustration. Everything that could have gone wrong did. I really don't want to know how things would have turned out without Preston helping us out. I love you Tharms! And that's the story of how World of Warcraft saved my life.

Into the night.

It has recently come to my attention that I may or may not have a big "I'm not good enough for anybody, so please do my the hugest favor imaginable and fuck me over" stamp on my forehead. Please, spare me. I'm not one to delve into the whole self-pity thing, believe me. Been there and done that. People just seem to enjoy making me feel useless, even if it's in an indirect manner. Which is where I'm torn. You see, I know I have a lot to offer. I know that I'm altruistic even when my demeanor or my actions show otherwise. I know that, if broken down to my very core, I'm a decent human being. Is this enough? What do I need to do? Should I start saving babies from burning buildings? Maybe taking multivitamins twice daily? I don't fucking know, but I'm getting irritated at the world as a whole. My last few posts have been a tad negative, but lets face it, I've always had a flair for the dramatic. I don't think that's the case here. I honestly feel like I'm a well rounded individual, but other people's actions make me feel like it's not enough. Maybe that's not it then. Maybe it's purely based on aesthetics. Am I not good looking enough? Too fat? Too tall? Not enough facial hair? I love myself enough, it's not like I'm in a constant state of self-loathing. I know that I'm perfect just the way I am. I don't try to isolate myself from my peers or from society, quite the contrary. I'd describe myself as a very sociable person. I love interacting with people. I love making people laugh. I just don't get it, and maybe I never will. Normally, this would be the part where the Tetrahydrocannabinol would start seeping into my bloodstream faster than oil in the Gulf, but I've decided to quit smoking pot. Maybe even for good. Hahaha okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves. For the time being anyway. I need to start getting back into shape, and my usual cocktail of Mountain Dew Voltage and pot isn't going to help me get there. That, and I know that a few people I know may appreciate me not smoking anymore. See? There's me caring about other people's feelings. Jesus, if you exist, send a couple of Heaven Points my way, please. It's sleep time though. Busy day tomorrow, and I'm not nearly high enough to try and dive deeper into my emotional subconscious.

And they told me I invented Times New Roman.

Noise. I awaken from the deepest slumber to a collective jumble of noise. Inaudible at first, but becoming more and more distinguishable with every second that passed. Ronco Rotisserie Ovens. The chicken looks delightful. I awkwardly slide out of Jake's Lazy Boy and hobble over to the office chair. As I masterfully peel layer after layer of upper body ware from me, I take a minute to gather my bearings. 1:30am. I've been out for what seemed was a couple of decades, but in reality was around three hours. The off-white hue of the monitor's glow makes my skin look more pale than Voldemort's. Fuck, I'm the whitest Mexican ever. Change the channel, this infomercial is making me hungry and apparently it's bad to eat after 7pm. Flip flip flip. Nothing good is on. Flip flip flip. If channel-surfing were an actual sport, I'd be the Kobe Bryant of it. Flip flip fli-...ohh, MTV! Any chance I could catch some music? No, it's some documentary about being bi-sexual. I remember tuning into MTV as a kid/young teen and seeing a plethora of music videos. What the fuck happened to MUSIC television? Oh well. I'm trying to think of a way to regurgitate what's in my mind onto this blog, but these social cliche's are distracting me. Quit smiling at me, damn it. Can I find the courage to spill what's in my head? You’re only brave until you're scared, and you’re only unique until compared. How did I get to this point? I feel as though the things I love are slipping away from me. Truth be told: I miss home. I've been away from it for such a long time, but a big part of me feels homesick. I long to go back home and see my family. My friends. Those familiar faces of days already passed. Oh, you know what days I'm talking about. The days where you felt invincible. The days where you made no plans, yet ended up having the most amazing day of your life. The days where you were truly and utterly happy. I miss those days, and the people whom I shared them with. I feel like my best friend is forgetting me. No, not Jake. I'm obviously writing this from his computer, in his apartment which happens to be hotter than the sun at the moment. I'm talking about my other best friend. I feel like in the monotony that her life has become, and in an effort to liven it up a bit, she will forget me. It scares the shit out of me. I'm not a selfish person, in the least. I obviously want her to go out and experience life. Meet new people. I want her to be happy. I'm just terrified that in doing so I will become obsolete, and as such, replaced. I also feel as if my life is becoming some droll routine. I can't stand the prospect of this. Life is supposed to be exciting and awesome, not some fucking routine that bores you. My life has become work. Work and sleep and food. Throw school in there in about a month and a half and it'll be more or less the same. School, Work, Sleep, and Eats. 1:57am. I've been spewing my thoughts onto my blog for almost thirty minutes now. I find myself having a very difficult time finding the words to fully express what's in my dome. Maybe I should change the channel and find a little inspiration....Flip flip flip. No Food Network please, I could decimate an entire cow at this point. Flip flip flip. "Too Fat for 15". Irony. Flip flip flip. Zombieland. Instant inspiration. Emma. Fucking. Stone. By far one of the hottest celebrities...ever. I can't help but feel kind of lonely. I want an Emma Stone to save from cannibalistic dead people! "You'll never find anyone who loves you as much I as I do, remember that." Oh, I do Tracy. I do. Seared into my fucking brain like a cattle-prod to a steer's ass. Maybe she's right. Maybe she's wrong. I do miss her, as weird as that sounds. I wonder how she is from time to time. I really wish things would have ended on a more positive note, but that's what I get. I'm the one that ended things. So I do wonder if I'll meet someone who doesn't think I'm a complete jackass. Someone who can see me for me, and still toy with the idea of being with me. hahaha. Maybe I'm too straightforward? Too blunt? Do I go for the throat? They say the more you squeeze the more it slips away. I want to watch Garden State. That movie always puts things into perspective for me, as far as "falling in love" goes. Natalie Portman is gorgeous. Although I feel a huge weight lifted off of my proverbial shoulders by venting, there's still a huge chunk of things that I can't even begin to put into a cohesive thought. I'll sign off on that note. You stay classy, San Diego.

So, what're you thankful for?

I really hate to be "that" guy. You know, the one that makes an obligatory post on thanksgiving about what you're thankful for. I just got to thinking today - I'm pretty freakin' blessed. Woke up at a reasonable time (7:00am. I forgot 7:00am even existed) and proceeded to call Jake. That guy, he truly is a wonderful chap. I may just start calling him Broseidon, King of the Brocean. Clever, right? Anyway, I call him and I find out we're gonna grab coffee and eat cinna-buns. Great start to the day! I look outside and the sun is already shining brightly, though it's still 8 degrees outside. Oh, Utah! I don't bother to shower because, well, I'm sorta lazy. Slap on a couple of hoodies, a beanie, an old pair of jeans, and my Vans. I'm out the door. I drive to Jack's house (She's a good friend of ours. My kindred spirit!) and eat some cinna-buns, then drive to some random elementary school to play football in the snow. It was freezing balls. I just watched. Saw the cute hostess from Outback there. Still don't know her name. Still haven't asked. haha. After some time, we leave and I head back home to make cookies for Cassie. She was nice enough to invite me over to her uncle's house for Thanksgiving, seeing as I couldn't drive back home to spend it with my family. That's when it hit me. I was thankful for having such good friends. Jake, for always being there for me, even though he's a mollusk and lacks self motivation at times. Love you man! Cassie, for letting me spend an otherwise lonely day at home with her and her awesome family. My parents, for being so kick-ass and wanting to see me today, even though they couldn't. My life has been pretty crazy this past year. From moving back to Vegas, to living in Utah; I'm thankful that no matter where I go I'll always have my friends and family. If you can get anything out this readers, it's this: Be thankful for anything that makes you happy or gives you hope. When it boils down to it, that's what today's really about. Well, the turkey never hurt either. :)

Where's a Muse when you need one...

I didn't think it could happen. Fabian...stricken with WRITER'S BLOCK! I usually always have something that I'd like to express via writing (or typing in this case) but my mind is blank. Am I running out of creative juices? Am I losing my creativity / originality? It makes me want to go do something stupid just so I can write about it. So, it's about two hours before I'm supposed to head to work...and there's a damn blizzard warning for the greater Salt Lake area. Yeah, BLIZZARD. Not the frozen delicious treat from Dairy Queen either. Establishments are closing left and right to "brace for impact", so to speak, and Brick Oven just spits in everyone's faces in a "Fuck that, we're staying open no matter what" sort of manner. I'm dreading driving to work today, but not as much as I'm dreading the potential drive back home afterward. Wow, I've already typed a good ten sentences. Typed diarrhea for the win! Anyway, I was sitting in bed texting a very good friend of mine, when it dawned on me: I'll ask her for a topic to write about! That will for sure get rid of my writer's block, right?! She then bluntly responds: "Write about me!" So I figure I'll give it a shot. Let me take you on a little journey to when I first met Miss Cassandra Knuth!

Mid September. Alex and I are rushing to Brick Oven to attend our midday server training. As usual, Alex took his sweet ass time so we were running a couple of minutes late. We arrived at 12 on the dot. Good thing I'm a fucking awesome driver. We sat down and proceeded to talk about the amount of clowns that were hired, in our usual fashion. Looking around the room, I see the bevy of familiar, yet at the same time, unfamiliar faces. Sure, I'd been seeing these people for about two weeks, but only for two hours a day. It's not like we talked to any of them about non work related things. For fuck's sake, I hardly even knew anyone's name! So, I was doing my usual scope of the room when out of nowhere I see these two girls I'd never seen before. Pretty good looking, but that wasn't what caught my eye. It was the fact that one of them was wearing a Justin Beiber t-shirt. Justin. Fucking. Beiber. Really? So, I figured I'd use this as a way to break the ice. Alex and I sit next to these two girls, who are still nameless to me, and I proceed to make small talk about how much of a clown Justin Beiber is. They laugh. I'm silently relieved. I learn their names: Liz and Cassie. Liz is kind of quiet. Cassie, however, is not. She's loud, kind of obnoxious, and border-line conceited, but for some reason it wasn't off-putting at all. Quite the contrary, I felt myself wanting to get to know her better. The way I figured it, there had to be more to this girl then being a loud brat! Boy was I right. As time passed and I got to talk to her more, the more I felt myself being drawn to her. We talked a lot at work, which was a very welcome distraction from the large amount of failure that happens on a daily basis at the BO. We talked about her boy troubles. She seems to fall for assholes who end up screwing her over. I know that subject all too well, I used to be one of those kind of guys. I give her advice. I'm completely and brutally honest with her. She seems to appreciate it. We talk more. She seems less obnoxious and less bratty with each conversation we hold. I can't help but genuinely like this girl. I invite her over for steak and mashed potatoes. Yes, she's a steak and mashed potatoes kind of girl. I make dinner. We talk for hours. About anything and everything. Continued boy troubles. Life. Family. I'm looking at her from across my dining room table and I'm just looking into her eyes, which are gorgeous. I'm purposefully trying to find flaws in this girl. Aside from being a tad bit immature, IMPATIENT, and kind of stubborn, I can't find any. I like everything about her. I like spending time with her. She's one of the most down to Earth people I've met in a very long time. She's not fake, and I love that about her because most girls her age are. It's crazy to me that we've become super good friends in such a short amount of time. I never thought that the girl who's friend had a Justin Beiber t-shirt would mean so much to me. As for now? Present tense? We've had our first little tussle, I'll admit, I was being a little bitch. No need to get into details, but we worked things out and now we're good friends again. So, since I know you're probably reading this Cassie, I want you to know that you're one of the sweetest, most caring people I have ever met. I can look past your tough-girl act and see who you really are. You're a good friend, I hope you never forget it. Did I also mention that I dig your hair? Oh, and your sense of humor? Can't forget about those cute ears! I kinda like your laugh too. hahahaha. Writer's block = gone. Thanks, Cass. :)

Just another day in the life of an under-achiever...by choice.

11:30 am. I stepped outside into the cool autumn breeze, the crisp air clinging to my exposed skin like a newborn to it's mother. The temperature has been steadily decreasing, which is a clear indication that winter is upon us. I've always been fond of this time of year. Not because of the holidays or anything; in fact, as I've grown older I've sort of just detached myself from Christmas. I've just grown to realize how consumer driven the holiday has actually become. It's all about who gets who the flashiest gift, or who didn't get what. I love this time of year because I love being able to step outside and smell winter. It may sound odd, but I definitely believe that winter has a smell. It's the smell of burning firewood. Ever since I could remember, this smell has brought me some sort of comfort, on a subconscious level. I stepped outside today on my way to work, in the midst of a developing snow storm, and just breathed in a huge nose-load of air. It smelled like snow and burning firewood. I knew I was going to have a great day.

12:00 pm. I arrive to work in quite possibly the best mood of all time. This was due to the "winter smell", but the large amount of niacin flowing into my bloodstream had a large role to play in it as well. Thank God for Rockstar, right?

4:30 pm. My burst of Rockstar induced energy begins to dissipate and for the first time in four hours, I feel it. I'm starting to crash. Hard. My legs begin to ache, I find myself growing more and more irritable by the second, and I feel increasingly sluggish with every step I take. Normally this would be the time that I'd be going home to a cozy air mattress. Not tonight though! As if by some cruel twist of fate, Fabian is working a double shift. Without a break. Fabian is not happy.

4:32 pm. Alex brings me a Full Throttle energy drink. Looks like I'm back in the game!

4:35 pm. It kicks in. I feel the ache in my legs melt away and my mood begin to lift. I'm running at what feels like 18 times the speed of light. That's right, fuck you Einstein.

9:00 pm. I'm five tables deep, my section metaphorically in flames, and I'm fresh as a fucking daisy. NIACINNNNNN! Now the only things that are throwing coal into my good mood train are the large amount of cash in my pocket, the fact that it was snowing outside, and from time to time the thought of her. Yes, avid blog readers. HER. She's truly amazing, that girl.

9:20 pm. Spoke too soon. Five tables deep. Section now literally in flames, and I'm about as fresh as a Jawa's underpants. Niacin, why have you failed me?

10:30 pm. Fabian is officially no sat. Fanfare proceeds to chime in. My legs feel like Flan. Flan sounds good to me, because I just worked 10 1/2 hours straight, without a break. I roll my silverware, do my checkout, and get my ass home.

3:30 am. Why I'm still awake is beyond me. I literally can't move my legs, my eyelids feel like they're holding 45 lb dumbbells, and I really just want to go to sleep more than anything in the world. The thought of leaving my blog post incomplete is kind of irking me. That's for sure keeping me awake. Also, as corny as it sounds, I'm thinking about her again. I don't know why I'm surprised. It happens every single time I see her after going an extended amount of time without seeing her. The expression "out of sight, out of mind" pops into my head, and to a certain extent I'd have to agree. Not seeing her very often definitely puts her on a back burner, so to speak. Not that I feel less strongly about her when she's away or anything, don't get the wrong idea. Not a day goes by that I don't wonder how she's doing, or if she's having a good / bad day, etc. Just seeing her again brings all those feelings back to center stage. She came to visit the other day and I have to admit that it was the best day I've had in a very long time. She was so gorgeous. I swear this girl is the epitome of perfection. Seriously. Look up the word in a Webster's Dictionary and I'm pretty sure that a picture of her will be right next to it. Do you see my dilemma now?! It's hard to sleep when just thinking about her makes my heart beat a million times a second. Her eyes, her smile, the way her hair smells. It's insane. I love this girl with every fiber of my being, yet life and it's cruel circumstances denies us being together. I know with the passing of time things will return to how they were. I'll still think about her from time to time, and we'll occasionally talk. I miss her. The day she left, I worked a double as well. I rushed home in between my shifts to see her before she left. Her hair looked adorable under her beanie. We embraced, kissed, and she left. I went into my room and laid down. I could still smell her on my sheets. That's all that's left of her from her visit. She's just a scent on my sheets. I miss her.

3:48 am. Very exhausting day. The air mattress I sleep on is calling my name in an almost hypnotizing manner, like a siren's song. It's time to hit the sheets. I anticipate a 10-14 hour mini-coma is in store for me, I earned it! Worked my ass off, made almost 300 dollars, cleaned my room, and still managed to update my blog? BAM! Not bad right? I guess it's just another day in the life of yours truly. :)

-Fabian

-Fabian

The Summarized 30 Day Survey thing.

So Britney, I totally jacked this off of your blog. It seemed pretty interesting, and it's more for me than anyone else. If someone happens to read it, cool. So, for those of you tuned in, this apparently is the "Summarized 30 Day Survey". I really hate to go "Myspace" on everyone and post a fucking survey on my blog, but this is one that you're supposed to do over the course of 30 days. And some of these questions need to be answered by me, to me. For my own mental stability. Enjoy.


Something you hate about yourself.
Hmm. A toughie really. I sometimes feel like a borderline narcissist. But if I had to pinpoint something I really just don't like about myself, I'd have to say its how completely and utterly lazy I can be. Don't get me wrong, for the most part I'm a very driven and goal-oriented individual, but when I switch in to "lazy mode", forget it. That turns into "procrastination mode", which morphs into "complete lack of care mode", and then leads to "smoke a lot of pot and do nothing all day mode". I have done and seen a lot of things in my short 22 years on this rock, but I know that I've also missed out on a bunch due to my laziness. Finally maturing a bit (yes, a bit) and actually going out and seeing places and things finally put it into scope for me. No more laziness! (At least not as often as before. haha)


Something you love about yourself.
Here we go! This is more like it. Where to begin?! I mean, there are just SO many things that I LOVE about myself! Real talk, I may put on this sort of persona for people in which I'm just an ego maniacal, self centered, cocky jerk, but it's all for laughs. I'd like to believe, and my close friends can attest, that I'm just a fun loving, down to earth guy. What I love about myself is my never-ending supply of optimism. Throughout my life, I guess there's nothing I could do that others couldn't. I guess I've always just been dumb enough to give things a shot that most wouldn't. Eccentric enough to figure out a way around, some of my limits. And care-free enough to accept failure, over and over again. Each and every time, with the naive anticipation of success. And I love that about myself because most people aren't like that. The reason I'm still alive and I think my only true gift, is the ability to analyze and react with mental clarity in truly horrible situations. Well, that plus a lot of luck. :) Oh, I've also been told I have a kick-ass smile, an awesome and easy to get along with personality, and devilishly handsome good looks. Aaaaaaannnnnndddd he's back!


Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Honestly, this is a tough one. It's probably going to be a tie. I've done a lot of retarded shit in my life. I've hurt a lot of people, mainly the people whom are closest to me. If I had to forgive myself for anything, it would be for causing my loved ones so much grief and pain. I know they've forgiven me for it, but I think that's something that I still need to work on just letting go. The second one is going to definitely be letting that person (if you're reading this, you know who you are) go all those years ago. No regrets, but literally one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made, and I'm still paying for it to this day. Forgive yourself, Fabian.


Something you have to forgive someone for.
Can't be a complete and total asshole without some form of daddy issue eh? If I have to forgive anyone for anything, that spot's reserved to the sperm donor. I never met the guy, and I was too little to remember him, but the fact that he was such a spineless fuck and bailed on my mom and my sister disgusts me. Don't get me wrong, we turned out perfectly fine. My mom met a great dude and married him when I was two, so he's the only dad I've ever known, but I think on some sort of subconscious level my biological father bailing on us has kind of fucked me up. My close friends and family say that I should just contact him and mesh things out. They say I'll feel better if I do. I don't know. I know I NEED to forgive him before it's too late. I'm just not sure if I want to, or if he even deserves it.


Something you hope to do in your life.
Oooohh! So many things to choose from. I'll narrow it down to a few, the most important ones. Number 1! I hope to raise a family and be the best husband / father to ever walk the earth. Better than Bob Sagat in Full House. Yup. Number 2. I hope to be able to graduate and find a job that I love to do. My mind's been scrambling the last couple of days and I know what my calling is. Music and writing. Lets get it done! Number 3. I hope to, after I graduate college, plan a trip to Europe and Asia and see the fuckin' world. I want to backpack and experience different cultures and I won't front, I want to eat all the food. I want to experience life!


Something you hope you never have to do.
Easy. I hope I never have to be lowering the casket on my children or my wife. Oh, I also hope I never have to eat dog shit. That'd be way gross.


Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Is it completely fucked up that even before I finished reading the question I knew who it was? Cynicism aside, I think that I have made my own life worth living for. Through my fuck ups, my achievements, my falls and my rises, I can sit here and tell you that you shouldn't live your life for anyone but yourself. That being said, I can't really entirely stand by that because while, yes, I have played a pivotal role in making my life worth living, so has someone else. Laura, I don't think I would have made it this far without you. You have done so much for me without even realizing it. You know what you gave me? Hope. That's something that no one will ever take from me and that I still carry to this day. I love you.


Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
This one's also gonna have to go to me. Its true when they say that you're your own worst enemy. For a few years in the latter part of my adolescence, I really was the only person making my life as shitty as it was. Since then, I've learned about self worth (maybe a little too much) and have moved onto bigger and better things. Someone else kind of indirectly made my life hell for a while during my late teens, but I think it'd be best to leave that person unnamed and bury the fuckin' hatch. :)


Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Laura. Plain and simple. We're close now, and we've come a very long way from being two stupid teenagers sitting on a park bench, but we've definitely strayed a bit, which I think we've both been trying to remedy. I'd also have to say my really good friend Aly. I wish things didn't go down they way they did. You were an awesome friend Aly, and I treated you wrong. I hope you know that I'm sorry and I miss you.


Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Meh. I think everyone I've met and things that I've experienced have made me the person that I am today. No regrets. Even the people who flat out don't like me. They say bad press is still press, right? haha


Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
My smile, for sure. Life is too damn short to NOT be smiling all the time, right? Plus, this smile cost my folks three grand, better show it off! I also get told how tall I am, like, ALL the time. Not sure if it's a compliment, but I hear it enough to start taking it as such. :)


Something you never get compliments on.
Something I never get compliments on? Hmm...Well, I've never been complimented on my ruggedly handsome features, which leads me to believe that either A) I don't have ruggedly handsome features, or B) People are SO dumbfounded by my rugged handsomeness, that they can't put it into words. A is probably true, but B gets me through the day. Truth is, I look 12.


A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough days.
Anything in my current iPod. Trust me, being a person who's life revolves around music, for me it was specific songs that got me through tough times rather than bands as a whole. "My Heroine" by Silverstein, "Don't Call Me Peanut" by Bayside, and "Alive with the Glory of Love" by Say Anything are just a few examples.


A hero that has let you down.
I think I'm fortunate enough to look up to the right people. Luckily, none of them have let me down. Yet.


Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
I'm taking this as a two part question. Something I couldn't live without would definitely be, at the expense of sounding extremely cliche', my cell phone. Tried it for a week and I almost died. Literally. Almost died.(Blown water pump on Jake's Ford Fuckus, stranded in BFE Nevada) SomeONE I couldn't live without, would definitely be my madre. Sounds gay, I know, but that lady has put up with more just from me, than most parents put up with from 3 or 4 kids. I have stolen from her, lied to her repeatedly, and been the biggest asshole to her at times, but she still loves me unconditionally. Which is awesome for me, because you don't really find that anywhere else nowadays. Not everyone cares enough to look past your flaws and still think the sun shines out of your ass. I love you mom! And all this was typed at the expense of sounding like a total momma's boy. Which I'm not. Ok, maybe a little.


Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Cancer. Too blunt?


A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Any of the Harry Potters! Life changing! Sorry, I'll stop trolling. My Friend Leonard and A Million Little Pieces helped me through some tough spots and definitely changed my outlook when it was grim at best. Also, The Picture of Dorian Gray made me change the way I look at people in general.


Your views on gay marriage.
If they want to be as miserable as straight people, by all means. Let the gays get married, America, for real.


What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
The two things you're supposed to never talk about, meshed into a single question? Challenge accepted! The following statement may or may not offend some of you, but this is my blog so I could care less. Religion to me is a bunch of bullshit. Especially the made up religions like Scientology and Mormonism. Mormonism, which if you really think about, was the Scientology of it's time. They were both created by drug addicted sociopaths. Now, as for the OTHER religions, mainly Christianity, I personally feel like they're here mainly as a way to help people get through their days and cope with the idea of dying. I would much rather believe that when I die I get to go to some magical place in the clouds instead of just rotting in the ground, but we also have to be realistic here. Religion is a bunch of bull. Plain and simple. Does that mean I don't believe in a higher power? Absolutely not. I do believe there are forces at work here that are bigger than just you or me. I don't need a religion to know that or tell me that, though. The idea of God is one thing; when people start throwing religion into the fray is when things get fucked up. It's great on paper, but the heart of man is full of greed. Science flies people to the moon, religion flies people into buildings. Nuff said. Now, onto politics. The majority of our nation's politicians are crooks and liars who are simply trying to push their capitalistic-consumer agendas on to all of us. If the Forefathers would have known just how corrupt the government they fought so hard to create would become, I'm sure things would be different.


Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Now, being someone who was completely and utterly lost to drugs, my opinion may be a bit biased, so I'll start with alcohol. I'm of age. Do I think it's wrong to indulge in the consumption of alcohol in a safe environment from time to time? Absolutely not. I'll admit, I like to drink beer with food. It's delicious to me. Do I go out with the intent to get smashed? No. Does it happen? Sometimes. But I don't drink with the intention of using it as some sort of escape mechanism. That's where the problem lies. People who use drugs and alcohol as a means to escape their problems or everyday lives. I'll be the first to admit that I recreationally smoke marijuana. Do I do it to numb myself from how bad my life is? No, because my life is awesome. I smoke it because it's fun and makes you feel rad. Obviously I do this in an environment in which I'm not putting myself of others in danger. People are so down on the Mary Jane, when in reality, it would solve more problems by legalizing it then it would create. Legalize it, sell it, tax the shit out if it. Voila. Instant money maker. Since the government would be growing it and selling it, not to mention taxing it, that would be money straight into their pockets, hence getting the country out of this retarded recession that Obama has failed to get us out of. My mentality is, if grows in the ground and nothing is added to it, you should be good to go. Here's a little message though, little inspirational quip. There's nothing in this life that you CAN'T turn into heroin. Remember that.



(Scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Not let some petty fucking argument get in the way of me and my best friend. I'd drop whatever I was doing and help my best friend. What a retarded question.


Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
On one end I could say drugs, because I'd probably be in a completely different spot in life. At the same time though, all of my fuck ups and my flaws, and the stupid choices that I've made have led me to this very spot. I like where I am and I like the person that I've become. Wouldn't change it for anything.


Something you wish you had done in your life.

Gone to college right out of high school. Taking that year break was a terrible idea hahaha. That, and I wish I'd had the balls back in high school to say what I really felt to the person who meant the most to me.


Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)

You know the songs, and you know who you are. :)


The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Honestly? Luck. Lot's of fucking luck. Luck and optimism, for sure. Things get better. Sometimes they just have to get extremely fucked up before they do. It's always darkest before dawn, or so I've heard. :)


Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
You know, there were a few times when shit got to the point where I honestly thought: "Wow, I could just die right now and this would be over. All the bullshit and tough times. Gone." but it never got to the point in which I wanted to act on it. Like I said earlier, I'm blessed with being extremely optimistic and that definitely got me through the points in my life where I didn't think I'd be able to make it. The best way out....is always through.


What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Everything. I'm at a point in my life that I haven't been in a while, and that's completely and utterly happy. I have a great job, I'm starting school again, I have the best friends a guy could ask for. My life is the best thing I got going for me right now. Hands down. Only thing I really need now is a lady friend....hahaha


What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Raise the little shit. Love him (yes, him. I'm only having boys.) unconditionally. If you made the conscious decision to be hittin' the sheets without protection, then you have to man the fuck up and take responsibility for your decision. Because, for the most part, sexual intercourse without the use of contraceptives leads to pregnancy. Wrap that shit up and you won't have issues!


Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
I hope to change, or tweak rather, certain aspects of my life. The biggest one being my health. I'll be the first to admit that since my move to Utah, I've been slacking on the healthy food department. I've been eating like shit. I want to be healthy and fit. I want to get back into the groove of hitting the gym 4 times a week and eating healthy. I also hope to change my sometimes lack of motivation and overall laziness. I'm a work in progress, people!


A letter to yourself: tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself.
My kind of thing right here!

Dear Fabian,

Hey man, it's me....you. Just wanted to let you know that I love everything about you. You're funny, smart, a great listener, and an even greater friend. You have a family that loves you and friends that would do anything for you. You like to front like you're a tough guy, but I know that deep down you're one of the most caring individuals I know. But what I love most about you is everything you're not. You're not desperate for anyone's approval or attention. You're not fake. You're not a carbon copy of every other dude. You're unique as fuck man! You're perfect just the way you are, even with all of your flaws and issues. You just gotta find someone who feels the same way about you as I do! That being said, quit being such a lazy ass, finish your fucking Bachelor's, hit the gym and get back in shape, quit being such a pussy and just tell her how you fucking feel...be an Alpha Male! Most of all, cherish every moment as if it were your last. I love you man, I'm looking forward to spending the rest of eternity with you, whether it be rotting in the ground or in some magical cloud kingdom. :)

Yours Truly,
Fabian

I swear I'm not dead.

It's been a while since I updated this thing. Utah's been keeping me rather busy. I have officially lived in this state for approximately two and a half months and so far, it's been grand. Working at Brick Oven is pretty laid back. People there are generally nice, although the vast majority of them have never worked as servers or even in a restaurant setting for that matter. My roommate Alex and I work together at Brick Oven, which we kindly refer to as our "little kid job". It's been consistently busy which is money in my pockets. I'm not sure how we'll do once the hype of a new restaurant wears down, but by then I should have enough money saved up to not really worry too much. I've met a lot of very interesting people so far. Most of them are either very religious (Mormons, no less) or extremely anti-church or anti-religion. That makes for a pretty eclectic group of acquaintances. Other than all of that, my life has become a sort of routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, hang out, sleep. Rinse and repeat. I'm very excited to break the monotony of this routine by going to school again next semester. I also broke what has become my norm by attending a few concerts. I saw Atmosphere live for the first time and I have to say that Slug and Ant can put on a show! Their set was phenomenal, and something that Slug said to the crowd as they departed has really stuck with me. He said something along the lines of "Life is too short for you to be sad or angry or frustrated all the time. Each day is a blessing, and each day should be treated as if it were the best day of your life. Thank you all for being a part of the best day of my life." I had an epiphany then and there. He's fucking right, man! I'm worried about all this mundane, meaningless bullshit. There's no point. Each day should be the best day of your life. On top of that, I went to see quite possibly my favorite band for the time being, Circa Survive, and their lead singer Anthony Green said something that further fueled my epiphany. He went on to thank the fans in a very stereotypical fashion, but then he said this: "It's crazy to me that we're doing this. I would have never thought in a millions years that I'd be here and have so many faces singing these songs back to me. You can do this too. You could be doing this. There's no reason why any of you can't be what you want to be. If you don't want to go to school, don't. You don't need to work your shitty job. Follow your dreams." It sounds kind of gay, even to me as I type it, but the energy in the room while he was saying this to everyone was purely spectacular. I literally felt moved. I know what I want to do with my life, and it lies in music. And writing. So recap: Work rocks, met tons of chill people (couple of nice girls too! ;]), AND had numerous epiphanies about the direction my life is taking. Not bad for two months, eh?

Utah....

If you would have approached me on the streets four months ago and said "Hey Fabian, where do you think you'll be living in four months?", I woulda been like "Hey -insert name here-, NOT Utah!" Sure enough, four months later, I'm living in Utah. Strange how life works isn't it? Not so much how it works, but how it tends to just not give a fuck about you or your plans. Let me rewind a bit here. I moved back home to Mesquite from Reno in high hopes of landing a gig at this pretty legit restaurant in Vegas. My sister had setup interviews for me in a number of other high profile places as well. I interviewed my little heart out, but to no avail. With the passing of time, I became more frustrated at the fact that I wasn't getting hired at any of these places. Did I say the wrong thing? Did I do my hair the wrong way? Was there something in my teeth? Did I silently pass gas? I was pissed off, man! Theoretically, I could have stayed in Mesquite until I found a job, but lets face it, living with your parents at 22 is fucking lame. I started weighing my options.

A)Stay in Mesquite until I found a job and a place to live in Vegas, then move accordingly.

B)Stay in Mesquite. Like...to live there. (Why is this even an option?)

C)Move to Vegas, jobless, and wing it.

Z)Move to Utah.

I was growing increasingly frustrated with my situation as a whole. Living with my parents, jobless, at 22. They say that everything happens for a reason right? I mean, if Chili's wouldn't have laid me off, I'd still be in Reno. I'd be going to school, living with awesome people, having the time of my life. I can see where life would be like, "Nah, fuck that. Let's move this kid back to Mesquite, just for shits and gigs." Totally. So, Jake and I had been in contact since his departure to Utah and he kept harassing me about making the trip up to Ogden to visit him. I figured I might as well, seeing as I had no job and would be making the trip on Nevada's dime. (God bless you, unemployment!) I get here and I'm pretty impressed. The weather is fantastic. The women (for the most part) are good looking. Long story short, in the three weeks that I stayed in Utah, it grew on me. Next thing I know, I'm packing up my shit and moving here. I've made some stupid choices in my life. Quite arguably, some REALLY stupid choices. The thing is though, that all of those stupid choices have led me here. This is normally the part where one would say "It's the next chapter in my life and I hope it's good blah blah blah", but I'm going to say fuck that. I say evolve. I'm going to make the most of my time here. I'm going to grab Utah by the throat and hump it into submission. I'm going to make this chapter legit. Why? Because I'm Fabian. Hey Utah, I'm here to fuck shit up. Lets do this.

Fabian Ramirez: The Mexican Bobby Flay?

So let me just start by saying (or typing, rather) that I am the greatest cook to ever grace the face of the Milky Way Galaxy. Maybe even the Andromeda Galaxy too, but I think I'll just stick to the Milky Way. I've lived here for like twenty-two years and I've grown rather fond of it. Anywho, lets rewind a bit and we'll get to my culinary prowess later. Day started like usual in good ol Mesquite. Woke up, ate a bowl or two of Frosted Mini Wheats. Yeah, I like to keep it nice and simple. Played with my dog a bit, did the whole "refresh the Facebook page 50 times a minute to see if anyone has posted on my wall", don't act like you've never done it.(If you must know, nope, no Facebook wall posts. Sad face) I kinda promised my mom I'd cook her a legit meal for mother's day, but since we had committed to other engagements, my l33t cooking had to be put on hiatus until today. So I did all my normal stuff and started watching Food Network. Let me just say that the Food Network is my filthy heroin addiction. I can't get enough of that channel. If I had to suck a dude off for money to afford my Food Network habit......well...let's just leave it at I think the channel is amazing. So I'm sitting in my parent's comfy reclining chair, watching Guy's Big Bite. He's making some Cuban style pork-chops with some really tasty lookin' mash potatoes. SOLD. It was like that stupid show "Say Yes to the Dress", only instead of being totally gay and boring, it was manly and it involved food no less! I KNEW this dish was "The One", my mother's taste buds had to have this and nothing less. I proceeded to scribble down the ingredients and cooking procedures in my half human / half primordial beast lookin' handwriting, and headed to my nearest Wal-Mart. I was so excited that I'd actually be cooking. Fun fact about Fabian? He's a pleaser. Pay close attention, ladies. In all seriousness, I love cooking and it's actually been a blue moon since I had cooked last so I was pretty pumped. Not only do I love the ACT of cooking, but more-so the feeling of satisfaction I get knowing that I busted my buns to make a meal and people enjoy it. Praises are always nice too! For future reference, I live off of a strict diet of zero carb Rockstar and attention.

You: "Gee Fabian, your cooking is phenomenal!"

I would then reply with: "MMMM this attention is delicious, nom nom nom!"

In my head, of course. I find everything at Wal-Mart and cruise on back to the casa. I had a few hours to kill before my parents got home and I could actually start cooking, so I decided to go for a jog and do menial exercises around the house. Push-ups, sit-ups, that sort of thing. 6PM rolls by and I knew it was on. I could finally commence the epicness. I'm whipping utensils out I've never even seen before. Things that look like hammers and medieval torture devices. I'm mincing and cutting and slicing and julienning stuff like it's no one's business. I swear for a few minutes my hands were possessed by angels. Angels that knew how to cook food for the Gods. I'm marinating things left and right, sauteing and stirring and mixing and tasting. I felt like I was on Iron Chef. It seemed like a milennia had gone by. I look at the clock...it had been 5 minutes. Holy. Shit. So without delving too much deeper into the mystical art that is cooking (remember, a magician never reveals his secrets, same goes for cooking.), I finish and I have my final product: pork-chops marinated in a bit of OJ, Lime juice, and vinegar. Dry rubbed with a medley of awesome spices and then pan seared with some onions and garlic, and finally deglazed with a bit of white wine. If that wasn't enough, I also made some Sofrito Mashed Potatoes, which included green and red bell peppers, red onion, little bit of white wine and tomato sauce, simmered and reduced, and finally folded with a bit of butter and heavy cream. This sauce, was literally sent from the heavens. I wanted this sauce to have my children. All the meanwhile, I was boiling Yukon Gold potatoes and when they were done, I poured this sauce all over them and mashed. This dish was full of culinary grandiosity the likes of which had never been seen! My mother's clearly outmatched taste buds were clearly outmatched. It was like trying to watch an ant try to lift the Empire State building, while being repeatedly punched in the face by bully ants. Like, this ant is a nerd and not very popular so he gets beat up a lot. His mom asks him how his day went and he's all like "Well, I tried lifting the Empire State building but I couldn't because for one, I'm an ant, and for two, I had other ants punching me in my ant face." And his mom is like "Damn." Clearly outmatched right? Did I also mention that besides being the best cook alive, I'm also the king of awesome examples? If only I could put that on a resume...

Interviewer: "Fabian Ramirez? Hmm. I see here on your resume that you've worked in so and so...and you're also the king of awesome examples, as well as the best cook alive?"

Me: "Oh, you forgot that I'm a snazzy dresser, and that my interests are punching and fighter jets."

Interviewer: "I saw that, thank you. On our application, where it asked you to explain any gaps in employment, you answered with: 'Doing all sorts of ill shit?'"

Me: "Word."

Interviewer: "Congratulations, it would be a privilege, no, an HONOR, to hire you Fabian. You have the job!"

Me: "Rad."

Oh...a man can dream right? Needless to say, my mom and dad thoroughly enjoyed my meal. I only thought of one other person who I could grace with such a meal of champions. Laura. So I jet down to her pad and I hand her my plate of win. Yes, it was literally a plate full of win. If win were a tangible object, it would be anything I cook. Ever. You'll have to ask her if she liked them or not, 'cause I know she wouldn't tell me if they were bad. Lets be honest though, they weren't. Why? Because I'm the man. After she ingested the meal I had prepared with such love and care, we decided that dessert was in order. I suggested Dairy Queen, because after Food Network, my second filthy heroin addiction comes in the form of Reese's Blizzards from the DQ. Can you believe this girl? This gorgeous, nineteen year old American girl, has NEVER had a Blizzard. What? Starving Ugandan's have had Blizzards. We get to DQ and to my dismay, it's closed, so we do the next best thing: get Ben and Jerry's! Head back to her pad and pretty much kill a half a pint in around 5 minutes. I'm watching her do dishes, and I get struck in the face with an epiphany: I can't find a reason to hate Mesquite anymore. When I'm in that kitchen with her, which as of late has been pretty frequently, Mesquite aint so bad at all.

-Fabian

Long Drives on Short Roads.

Why haven't our top scientists invented Auto Pilot for vehicles? I mean, seriously. Have you ever stolen a bottle of alcohol and tried removing the anti theft device? It's insanely difficult. Get the inventors of that to make an auto pilot. Those people seriously need to be finding a cure for cancer or something. It took 8 drunk guys 45 mins of torching (yes, with fire), poking, prying, pulling, and anything else you could imagine to get this thing off. But just imagine the auto pilot for a sec. Pop that shit on and take a nap? Watch a movie? Hell, maybe even play xbox or read! As I write this, I've been cooped up in a vehicle for the past 7 hours with nothing to keep me entertained except my ipod and me talking to myself. You don't get it, I must be insane because I literally had a full 2 hour conversation with myself. About NOTHING....like it was NORMAL. It went a little like this:

Me thinking out loud: "Damn, it's such a great day out today. Why the fuck did I have to be stuck driving?!"

Me responding to the vocalized thought: "Well Fabian, because you have to move to Las Vegas and get your life back on track, duh."

Me responding to the response: "Fuck you."

That. For 2 hours. That's creeper status dude. Like, closet-full-of-skin-sombreros-wearing-a-woman's-bathrobe-while-wearing-tons-of-make-up creepy. On a positive note, I'm finally in Las Vegas again! Hooray! -insert fanfare here-. I must admit, I do get a little misty-eyed thinking about my friends and the amazing summer I could be having up in Reno, you know, where it won't be hotter than the sun this summer. I did a lot of that on the way down here too. Reminiscing. Remembering all those times me and Brady would get ridiculously baked and play Alive by Pearl Jam, watch the History / Discovery channel at 2 am and talking about space / aliens / life for hours, or all of us swapping our tales of drunken revelry. My roommates were both in a frat, Alpha Tau Omega to be exact, so the stories of blackout drunkenness, trading
belt hits, and hooking up with random girls were always fun to hear and very abundant. They would share their stories of having sex with random girls who were rather promiscuous, appropriately dubbed "Tau-Hoes". Like the lake, get it? Clever right? I'm going to miss our fun times bullshitting, making fun of each other for stupid shit we'd done. Like Bobby for sleeping with a black girl(Not racist, just funny. You'd need to know Bobby to think it's funny.) Brady for being a little short. Brett for having sex with a 40 year old lady in the rain. Shit like that, lol. I'm going to miss going down to The Flowing Tide (our frequent bar) and playing pool even though none of us were really that good. I may have only lived in Reno for about 9 months, and known most of my friends for about 6, but I forged a strong bond with all of them. It's insane to me that we all grew pretty close in such a short time. (No homo. Well, maybe. Just kidding.) I recall writing in a previous blog that my life's chapter labeled "Reno" was coming to a close, but I think I will have to formally retract that statement. It's not over, I'm just gonna throw an ellipsis at the end of it. I'll go back, for sure. To be honest, I really just wanted to use the word "ellipsis" in a sentence. So now, as I sit in this parking lot, sipping on my one true vice (Taro flavored Snow Ice, with boba!), trying to steal internet from like 20 different wireless connections, I can truly take everything in for what it is and say that I'm feeling mixed emotions. It's very bittersweet. I guess I'm supposed to learn from this experience and grow as a person, but fuck man, I kinda miss Reno already. I know that as far as job opportunities go, Vegas > Reno. I like free money as much as the next person...I mean, working for the state of Nevada, but I really just want to start working again. Start going to school again. And I know that I'm going to make new friends here, and that the world keeps spinning, but as cool as Vegas is, it doesn't have a river in which drunk people lazily drift on running down its center! So to all you Reno people that may be reading this, I love you and I'm gonna miss you. Have a helluva summer. Grill a chicken breast, drink a Blue Moon, and enjoy life. As for me? It's time to make that money!

-Fabian

McGriddles: God's gift to humanity, or heart attack wrapped in pancake? You be the judge.

It has come to my attention that many McDonald's restaurants no longer serve McGriddle sandwiches for breakfast. This is an outrage. A buddy of mine and I got into a pretty heated argument over this and I had to whip out the Tucker Max quotes. If you don't know who Tucker Max is, I highly suggest picking up his New York Times Bestselling book: "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell", which is literally one of the funniest things I've ever read in my entire life. Tucker Max's claim to fame is a life of opportunistic sex, drunkenness and partying while managing to fumble through college and grad school. He's my kind of guy, although a bit older. All of us have had similar exploits which is why I like the guy. A lot of people hate on him, but whatever. Back to the subject at hand, my friend Will said that McGriddles are less than favorable upon one's palate and I had to disagree because I think they're fucking delicious. So I read him this excerpt from IHTSBIH:


Tucker Max : "Dude--That thing looks disgusting. It has to be nasty, with the syrup shit in it. What is that?"


Guy2 : "I can only assume from your cavalier attitude that you have not yet partaken the wonderment that is the McGriddle. Let me enlighten you. What happens is the One True God grows them on trees in the Elysian Fields using a heretofore unused incantation. He then proceeds to magic them down to your local eatery where whatever Ghetto Bastard cook your McDonalds has rescued from welfare that week proceeds to wrap it in cellophane and pass it along to you, the fortunate consumer. You proceed to ingest this finery in the vain hope that your obviously overmatched taste buds can somehow grasp the delectable intricacies it is suddenly faced with. Is that egg? Why yes it is, and bacon too. But wait-They didn't add... yes they did, yes they did indeed. They added cheese. And then, then my friends, they wrapped it in a sumptuous pancake bun! As your taste buds try to process that amazing piece of information, IT hits them... the syrup nugget. THE MOTHERFUCKING SYRUP NUGGET!!! It announces itself with a burst of confectionery grandiosity the likes of which your palate has never seen."


Tucker : "So you like them?"


Guy2 : "If you EVER speak ill of the McGriddle again I will personally force-feed you one while I fuck you in the butt using the wrapper as a condom and then donkey punch you when the infused syrup nuggets explode in your mouth."

Now I for one may or may not have a biased opinion. My aunt has worked at McDonald's for years now. (Immigration laws in America suck. People get all whiney when you dont have a Social Security Number. Yup, go ahead and insert random Mexican jokes now. I'll wait.....Done?) She'd always bring us free Micky D's, more importantly, free McGriddles. I always wondered why I was such a fat kid too. Never dawned on me that it was the syrupy goodness. Gotta love America and it's compulsive nature to over indulge in everything, especially shit that's bad for you. On that note folks, I'm out. But I will leave you with a lil some somethin'. Enjoy!

-Fabian

Nom nom nom nom. PS: I love how they add the word "ingenious". hahahaha

Sunshine sunshine, is fine!

It's crazy to think that just nine hours ago I was holding onto the ground to prevent myself from falling off of the planet, or that I was gagging myself in front of my toilet to rid my body of the excessive amount of alcohol and Jack in the Box, and now I'm having the best day of all time. The weather's a solid 75 degrees with a slight breeze, yeah, it's fucking gorgeous outside. I woke up this morning to the sound of Nick opening my door and telling me to wake up. I felt bad. No, scratch that, I felt like ass. I felt like I got hit by a truck...that was full of smaller trucks, which had dynamite in them. Yeah, that just happened. So I do the drunk crawl out of bed, and mind you, at this point I'm still hammered. We make our way into Brady's room and started trying to fit the pieces together of our collective recollections of the prior evening's events. As time goes by (like 15 minutes lol) I start to realize that I'm still pretty damn drunk, I feel like throwing up, and the room is starting to spin. Great way to start the day right?! We then proceed to be drivin to our cars by my roommate Shalese, because yeah, we didn't drive. Responsible adult much? Check. It dawns on me that we should get Keva Juice to help with the recovery process. It also dawned on me that the day was simply fucking fantastic. It's like that song Sunshine by Atmosphere. His day starts off shitty because he's hungover, but as the day goes by he realizes what a great day it is. We get Keva Juice right? Strawberry something-or-other. Fucking revelation. Now I start to feel slightly less like throwing up all over Nick and Brady. Brady goes to work, so I'm hanging out with Nick and all I really want to do is go home and view the inside of my eyelids for the next eight to nine hours. I decide against it because the day is just so damn nice. We go to Raley's and buy sandwich materials. Yeah, real men eat sandwiches outside on a porch shirtless. I'm sitting out here and it's like I never even drank. Somehow the sunshine, raspberry lemonade, and sandwiches just UFC fought my hangover and whooped the shit out of it. Sitting here on this porch, just watching the cars drive by, enjoying the fact that I'm alive. Nothing greater if you ask me. Isn't it funny how things work out? For all I know, if I wouldn't have drank, I wouldn't be enjoying this amazing day with a good friend. Such is life I suppose. It's time to drink some more lemonade and ejoy the day while this sparatic Reno weather stays nice.

Tattoo!

Alright, so let me just say that I think people with nautical star tattoo's are gay. I really think that if I'm going to have something on my body pretty much until I'm worm chow, It has to mean something. I always romanticized that my first tattoo would be my favorite song from the band Bayside. The song is called Landing Feet First, and it's always had some sort of meaning for me. In the song, the lyrics go as follows: "If our world falls down tomorrow, you be sure I'll be there with a net, to catch the pieces falling." Later on in the song these lyrics also mean a lot to me: "Imagine what it'd be like if the ocean poured in from both of the coasts and we set sail to find out, just were our boat would go. But I don't that I'd want to know, 'cause it would just make time so I can see your smile with our brand new life in tow." OBVIOUSLY I'm not going to get that long ass lyric tattooed on me, so I started brainstorming on how to make these lyrics tangible. Well, sure enough, being unemployed has it's perks so I drew this bad boy:

Not too shabby right? Pretty much drew a guy being held tightly by a girl. They're on a boat surrounded by waves (I know my waves look like flames or spikes, I'm not an artist lol)and the guy is holding a net catching the pieces from the crumbling world. Pretty G right? I know. I'd probably get it as a half sleeve. Here's what I'd want the waves to look like:

I've always had a thing for the Japanese style of tattoos, whether it be Geishas, Koi Fish, or waves such as those. I wouldn't want them that high, but I def like the color and the style, as well as the Lotus flowers at the bottom. Let me know what you guys think!

You always remember your first...

So I've finally mustered up enough cajones to finally start a blog lol. Where to start? Well, my life's been pretty crazy these last couple of months, to put it lightly. I broke up with my long time girlfriend. We'd been dating for a little over a year. Long story very short, things just weren't really working out for me. I decided it'd be best if we just went our separate ways. I tried to be civilized and hell, even tried to be friends but she wasn't having any of that. So what do you do in that situation, you know? I took all the experiences good and bad, learned from them, and moved the fuck on. I still think about her from time to time, wondering how she's doing or if she ever fixed any of the problems she was having. Thats about it though. I mean, it's kind of hard not to when you ate, slept, and breathed this other person. For fuck's sake, I moved up to Reno just to be with her lol. Speaking of which, this town is pretty legit. I love the scenery. I love that there are actually seasons here, as opposed to the Mildly Hot, Hot, Super Fucking Hot, and Warm seasons that make up Southern Nevada. I've met some amazing people up here. It's funny that it took me breaking up with Tracy to actually be able to meet people and make connections. My roommates are amazing. I didn't even really get to "meet" them until the post break up. In the first month that I lived in Reno, I was at my pad maybe 3 times. Kinda hard to get to know people that way haha. So I move here to be with the girl (which I recommend NOT doing), and I find a job at good old Chili's Bar & Grill. Let me tell you folks, I wouldn't recommend doing that either. That place is a fistful of asshole. The people I worked with were genuinely the coolest people I've met. Fuck, I'm still friends with most of them. It's the management that sucked a fat cock. Making THIS story short as well, things didn't really pan out there and I got "laid off". Really? Laid off? After I busted my ass doing everything BUT serve (which was promised to me upon my hiring, that I'd be made a server asap), I was pretty much just strung along like the dollar bill on a fishing pole trick. Whatever. So now I've been unemployed for the past month and a half and collecting that sweet sweet unemployment money. I refer to it as "Yeah, I work for the State of Nevada" so it doesn't sound like I'm mooching off of the government, which I am. Don't get me wrong, I fucking HATE not working. I've applied to every job posting you could imagine, but this economy sucks more than a promiscuous vacuum. So, I've been forced to move back to my city. Back to Las Vegas. The chapter in my life titled "Reno" is drawing to a close. I really can't wait to see what Vegas has to offer me on my second go around. We'll see!