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.