A Better Version of Me

The nickel dropped
When I was on
My way beyond
The rubicon--
What did I do?
And the games that I can handle,
None are ones worth a candle--
What can I do?
I'm a frightened, fickle person,
Fighting, cryin', kickin', cursin'--
What should I do?
Oooh, after all the folderol,
And hauling over coals stops--
What will I do?
Can't take a good day without a bad one,
Don't feel just to smile until I've had one--
Where did I learn?
I make a fuss about a little thing,
The rhyme is losing to the riddling--
Where's the turn?
I don't want a home, I'd ruin that
Home is where my habits have a habitat--
Why give it turn?
Oooh, after all the folderol,
And hauling over coals stops--
What did I learn?
I am likely to miss the main event
If I stop to cry and complain again,
So I will keep a deliberate pace--
Let the damned breeze dry my face!
Ooooh mister wait until you see
What I plan to be...
I've got a plan, a demand and it just began
And if you're right, you'll agree--
Here's coming a better version of me
Here's coming a better version of me
Here it comes...
A better version of Me

I wish two drinks were always in me...

What does it mean when you shave your legs and put on lingerie and get all ready to have sex with your fuck buddy and then he finally comes over, but he'd rather just go to sleep?? In your bed. What the fuck is that? Boys continue to confuse me. But it's actually really good news. He resisted me. He must not love me, and this time I'm glad. I mean we're friends, and it's nice to have him over here with me, but we are NOT together, and I think last night made that evident. Thank god. And I lied to my 20-year old because he just reminds me of a puppy dog. I can't keep him off me, so I told him I was on the rag. Ha! And he still suffocated me. What the hell is going on? I went years without getting laid. So I was all about it once I started to. Now betwixt FB, my 20-year old, and the random catcalls from the street, I feel like I'm drowing in dick. Yeah.

Why can't I attract cash money like I'm attracting these boys?? Sheesh.

I think I've found myself in that comfortable rut Gingerfish used to wax poetic about. Well, he really "borrowed" the idea from my man Hunter S. Thompson. Regardless, it changed my life and the way I looked at things in general. I was strong enough to break out of it then. And I have been strong (in spurts) since. I am strong enough to help Steph out of her own comfortable rut. It was I who advised her about this "comfortable rut." Ironically, I am finding myself stuck there yet again. I'm such an asshole. I am only halfway responsible for my life right now. I have done pretty well, but I have stalled somewhere along the line here lately. I may have done well so far, but I know I could do far better.

...someday you will ache like I ache...

So I got my blood tests back from the doctor. I have what they call Celiac Syndrome, otherwise known as Living Hell. Apparently I am allergic to gluten, which means wheat, flour, and all things grain. Think about what that means. I exist on pizza, burritos, ramen noodles, and grilled cheese sandwiches. This was the very last fucking thing I ever wanted to hear. It seems that I have to quit everything! Of course drugs, now bread, cigarettes, being fucking lazy, etc. The list goes on. Heh. Do you know how hard it is to break a habit or addiction?? I've even done it, and only through environmental change and an out of sight--out of mind attitude. But I've been eating bread and pasta and the like my entire life! I was a drug addict for only a handful of years. And you can't just put bread "out of sight--out of mind." I mean come on. This is the real world.

This is the real world. Oh. My. God. ...Shit.

Jam for the Day: Fins by Jimmy Buffett

Unprecedented Sunday Fear and Sentiment

My eldest readers already know this, but ya'll should know that I love Nascar, and most especially Mr. Jeff Gordon. I watch 24 every Sunday (and sometimes Saturday nights.) Anyway today he wrecked, with only 10 laps to go. Jeff rarely wrecks. But today his left front brake went out going into a turn. Going 200mph. Yeah. And he hit The fucking Wall. He hit hard, the driver's side smashing completely into The Wall. My jaw drops. Horror is flowing through my veins, however slowly. I feel paralyzed. The Wait. Seeing the car smashed into The Wall. No movement. I do not know if he's Okay. The announcers are Solemn. Quiet, and those guys are never quiet. I'm holding my breath, staring at the 24, tears brimming my eyelids. The Wait. The Fear. And then The Relief. Relief that flowed in waves over my body and coarsed through my brain right down to my toes and to my fingertips. I see his helmet pop through the window. I hear the announcers sigh with The Relief. Of course My Boy hops out of the window and goes directly to inspect the left front brakes to try to figure out exactly what the hell had happened. And I cried. Warm tears of sheer Relief. He was okay; no--he was fucking fine. But the wreck was so awful that they had to red flag the race to repair The Wall because he had hit it that fucking hard. Yeah. Then during the following caution they interviewed Jeff. He said it was the hardest hit he'd ever taken and that he really didn't know how he walked away from it. He said that he never even lost consciousness. He then mentioned having a headache.
That's my Boy.
That's my Soldier.
That's my Jeff.
He's so Smart. And Focused. He knew that he had lost his brakes going into the turn and steered downtrack into the grass to try to slow down as much as possible before he ultimately hit the wall. You should have seen the Dupont Chevrolet. It was fucking destroyed. But if it weren't for Jeff it would most definately have been worse. No one understands my love for Mr. Gordon. But that's what I find so hot. That Intensity; that Presence of Mind. And That combined with The Skill with which he does that which he does is something I can get down with. Something I can Admire. Something I can Respect.

So 24 didn't finish the race today. So Jeffy wrecked. So what? He may have dropped out of the top ten in cup standings and lost the race, but what he did not lose was his life.
I'd rather the latter.
But that's why he's my Hero. He risks his life on a weekly basis for what he loves. And he's been The Best in his field and he will be again, because of his Presence of Mind, his Skill, his Intensity, and, most importantly, because of his Passion.

Oh, and he's pretty Handsome too.

They restarted the race with 5 laps to go at Pocono International Speedway. Denny Hamlin, a rookie, won first place. It was his very first ever Nextel Cup win.

All's well that Ends well.

Represent

Lufkin Computer Hoes

(note the Cheech and Chong movie on tv in the background, lol)

Flashback

At My Parent's House

Jam for the Day: You Are The Roots That Sleep Beneath My Feet and Hold the Earth in Place by Bright Eyes

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

I hadn't seen him in a week or two and F(uck) B(uddy) had apparently missed me. He took me to see The Omen last night, which was surprisingly good. It was packed being opening day 06.06.06, and we had to sit on the floor in the back corner, which was actually pretty awesome. 06.06.06. Woo. Scary. Well maybe it would have been if the fucking redneck crowd hadn't started laughing at all the suspenseful parts. Retards. But the good news is that I am most definately not FB's inadvertant girlfriend. Sigh of relief. But he's still good in bed. Bigger sigh of relief.

I am applying for a job today. It's probably in the bag. I found out that Riverside Chevron (bear with me) across the street from Freebirds pays much more than my old shitty and stressful job and offers full medical coverage. Yeah. You see I know all the peeps that work there, as that is MY Chevron station. I mentioned to them that I should get a job there and they got seriously crunk at the thought. They told me it was so easy and the bosses were cool and they'd love for me to work there 'cause I was cool too. Haha! Well that was enough for me. No job can be bad if you like your co-workers. And of course I'm totally overqualified to be a clerk at the damn convenience store, when just last year I was preparing invoices to and building instrumentation for Chevron Petrochem. But thats what's fun about my life right now. And girls just wanna have fun, right?

Speaking of, FB doesn't know about Ethan, whom I will now refer to as my 20-year old. Is it wrong that I'm fucking these guys and I just don't care about them?? Or am I just having sex "like a man" as they say? Carrie Bradshaw got upset when someone mentioned that she must think that men are expendable. Sometimes I wonder if that's how I feel. Or if that's what I'd rather think, after having my heart broken, then damn near destroyed. And then the infamous one wanted to chat with me for no reason, most recently. In the stead of feeling the great sentiment of the love we once shared like I did the first time we spoke, I felt the anger rise in my stomach and to my throat and it came out in a storm onto my keyboard. Where was the love then?? Sometimes I still have it, sometimes I'm bursting with it. But not in the bedroom. Not with FB. Not with my 20-year old. Not anymore? And it's depressing. On the floor beside my desk, I have an accordion file full of research for my first novel, about (what else?) that love. I can only look away from it in disgust, because I can't feel that anymore. Can I? I don't know if I can't or if I just won't let myself. More and more I am understanding that it is the latter complicating things. The only thing I have to fear is fear itself, to quote that most tenacious of American Presidents. It keeps me in bed. On the couch. Behind the screen. It kept me doing the drugs. Staying with him. Going to prison. And why? For what? I grow tired of the street cred and the battle scars and the war stories. Yet I stack them up. Oh but I lied. I do know exactly why:
For This.
For You.
For Me.

I don't wanna be afraid anymore.

So I am feeling growing pains. You know, those pains in your legs, in your gut, in your heart. It wants to grow. It's bursting to grow. But my mind is holding it back. The habits of childhood are hardest to break. I feel like I know what I have to do, but I just can't. Like I don't have the strength to. There is some mysterious wall in front of me. A lovely, however tragic, wall. I have been running into it and falling down all of my life. Now I have no choice but to climb it. Except that I have the fear in my heart. I don't know that I will make it over. I don't know that I really want to make it over. When I fall asleep at night I have nothing to dream about. Oh there are dreams. But they are blank. They are vague. They are something more like a feeling. A feeling I think I missed somewhere down that crooked path I ended up following. But I passed that sobriety test. Now this is the only part of myself I have left to conquer. And I must prepare for war.

There ain't nothing like regret to remind you you're alive...

Jam for the Day: The Game Needed Me by Minus The Bear

Everything Zen

Another lazy day of surviving. Heheh. One might think I'm not doing anything to better my situation. Not so! I am branching out. On Wednesday I attended Shambhala Buddhist Meditation group. It was wholly foreign to me, as I came with minescule prior knowledge of the religion? and it's practices. But that's what made it fun. I really got into it. I did the bowing. I shared my ideas on the Dharmic material. I chanted. That was my favorite part. The bulk of what we did was meditate, or sit. They call it sitting for a reason. The idea is to sit so that your spine and everything is in balance, and concentrate on your breathing so hard that your vision goes out of focus and you meditate. I found it quite hard to think of absolutely nothing. The times I was able to, I had this strange tingly sensation in my body, mostly my limbs. At best I felt like everything in the room was one solid mass, as if I could feel the incense soaked air adhere to my skin. It was kinda trippy at times, but I found nothing very spiritual about it. I thought of it as a kind of self-discipline, because it is not easy for me to be in a room with other people and sit still and quiet. If you knew me in real life this would make you laugh. I'm going to go again. What else better do I have to do?? Sit around?
The Brain Tuner
And today I tried something interesting called the Brain Tuner. Yup. The fucking Brain Tuner. My friend bought this device that uses electricity to shock your nerves into acting right. Haha! Seriously, I don't have a really good idea of how to explain the way this works but it made sense to me when I read about it. It's supposed to help repair the brain chemicals of drug addicts. Like to quit smoking cigarettes, etc. So I hooked myself up and I really do believe that it worked! I felt really sublime, and I didn't smoke. I did later, but it worked for awhile. It's not a miracle cure whatsoever, but I think it's interesting technology and reckless trial-and-error is just my style.

But you knew that.