Skip to main content


Showing posts from April, 2012

Ballin' like a g.

No, not really, but I did have a blast last night and damn proud of it. Three friends and I hit up some gay joints in town and made a night of it. Wonderful times were had and friendships were deepened. Except with Parker, who was clearly too straight to be cool like the rest of us. Bitch wouldn't even fake dance. But we forgiae him because he's sweet. See, I don't normally do stuff like this. I'm secretly kind of shy and a bit timid. Like a lot a bit. But it's something I want to do more--go out with friends, mingle with queers, check out hotties, get my ass grabbed now and then by weirdos (and occasionally hotties). It's a good time and something I know I don't do enough of. So when my friend Matthew invited me out, I jumped at it. When I got Aaron and Parker on board, I got pretty stoked. Part of why I never go out like this is, as I said, that shyness and stuff; having friends to go with, people to feel comfortable around--it's what I need to get

Too damn long.

So I realized last night I cant think of a favorite color anymore. It used to be green, like sage or olive greens, but now...I can't really say it's my favorite . I think it's from working on retail. I no longer shop in terms of "ZOMFUG!! I love that green thing!!" but rather "oh, that's nice, that is very nice..." "that is such a nice green (or red or navy blue or gray or whatever color; it's less out of generally loving that color family as seeing specific colors on specific items that I react to specifically)." or "that looks so cute with this (or that thing I have at home)". Which is another side effect of retail, if being surrounded by and considering endless items & combinations of clothing: I sometimes sound dangerously like Daria's sister Gwen ("oh, that is so cuuuuu ute!! ").... So I can either get used to it and accept what a who're for retail the retail industry has made me or I can rise up

This morning.

I dunno what to call it, just that it was really nice. I didn't ret up particularly early, but neither did I fritter much time on wanking or sleeping excessively. Specifically, I got up, poked around on my phone for a bit, then decided how nice it would feel to go get my bag packed for work. Just get everything outta the way and outta mind until I had to leave (I still had, at that point, about 4 hours until I needed to be anywhere). So I did, and it was relatively painless. Then, while I was already in my clothes area, I gathered up some laundry and took it upstairs to put it in the wash. Then I made some breakfast and loaded the dishwasher. Then I ate my oatmeal and drank my coffee while catching up on some reading on the porch. I helped mom with some porch furniture related stuff, worked out a bit, showered, biked to work and still had time to spare. It's amazing what you can get accomplished when you decide to actually get up and do something. Any or all of those things I

Just tell me why: A half-assed rant.

I was discriminated against the other night. In fact, I've been discriminated like this every day of my life. Truth is, I don't entirely care; I'm not interested in 'bucking' the System' so much as 'strongly questioning' it. Very strongly. So, I bike to work. Naturally I wear regular street clothes for that. No need ruining good work clothes with the commute--especially with summer on its way. When I get to work, I go in through the Associate Entrance, put my things in my locker, then proceed to the other side of the store to change my clothes. I realized earlier this week that on my way to the bathrooms, as I walk through that lingerie section, women's ready to wear, and whatever that other one is, I must be passing at least two fitting rooms. Like, areas with a dozen fitting rooms each. It occurs to me--those are actually closer, and easier, and more reliable, than the stall in the men's rooms. I have to ask myself--why not hop in a fitting

Is this quitting?

So I'm down to the last week or so of my The Patch regimen. So I haven't had a cigarette in basically forever. It's weird; this step uses a 7mg patch (the step before it was 14mg for 6 weeks), but I often forget to put it on. In that, I hardly notice when I haven't put a new one on. It's an odd feeling. I almost forget that I ever smoked. I smoked for 7 years, and, although never quite a chain smoker, you'd think that might still register. That was, I suppose, why I opted for The Patch instead of cold turkey. I knew those odd habitual moments or split second decisions/cravings would destroy my attempts at quitting. Turns out The Patch worked better than I anticipated?

Earning it.

Needless to say, only a few of things I set out for myself to do Saturday actually got done/worked on. I'm not exactly surprised nor guilted, but something occurred to me this morning. Part of my problem is, and has always been, putting enjoyments before responsibilities instead of earning them through responsible decisions & progress. Like, that night last week where I did all that laundry and polished my shoes and felt kinda normal; when I made the to-do list at work that day I committed myself to accomplishing most or all of it before I could even touch  my computer. I decided that I would have to earn the right to goof off on the computer by taking care of (long overdue) chores. And it actually worked. Heck, I wasn't even worrying too much about all the computer game playing time or masturbation I was missing out on while I did my laundry, and I hardly even worried about it after I was done, too. And most importantly: a very large amount of my laundry was actually