Awkward pauses in the Conversation|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in
Virus with Shoes' LiveJournal:
|Saturday, January 17th, 2015|
|They cloned Ripley didn't they
I'm back here for a while. I just need to write freely. Even a blog is too open, too much. This is just for me. And people who have known me long enough that they aren't going to judge.
I'm in a really bad way, emotionally. This last year of trying to get my shit together post college, has actually just been a spiral of loss and rejection and resentment. I just keep thinking that there was some kind of social contract they told us about, school, college, job, content. And I decided, a bit late, to buy in. Just to...feel like a normal person. I want to know what that is. And, that's not happening.
I don't know how much longer I can live without a win. I'm trying, at least I can say that, but I keep having this phrase run through my head, "They call them losers; not because they don't try, but because they can't win."
It might end up in a book someday, if I make it that far.
Deleted my FB for a while. I'll go back in a bit.
Trying to get sober. Trying not to smoke. Trying not to smoke pot. I'm two for three, but the booze. Shit that's hard.
I wish I had something better to say.
|Wednesday, May 28th, 2014|
Job searching. I'm burned out. I have the cats up with me in Winchester for the moment. I could really use a break. But for now I need to look for a job. My vacation was a shit storm of Kat and I not getting along and my fun Texas time turned into her running errands and me tagging along. I don't know about you, but I don't think anything that involves two days at the DMV as a vacation. And that was most of what I did. Ewww.
Anyway, I'm back now and looking for work.
Hopefully I'll find something soon and be able to get back to NoVa by the end of the month.
|Tuesday, April 1st, 2014|
Years ago, Wrestlemania fell on April 1st. It was 2007. John Cena V Shawn Michaels. I picked Allison up from her job at Starbucks to catch the show at my friend's apartment. As we drove over to the UBREVO house (The apartment of my friend's Nick, Matt and Brian where we would often gather for the events and shindigs) we decided that given the day we should prank the guys. Allison, despite being a big ole lesbian, was going to pretend to be pregnant; and I was going to pretend to be a dick about it. And we were going to see how far we could take an uncomfortable family fight around our friends.
Allison stormed into the apartment ahead of me, angry and sulking. I followed her in, cracking jokes. For the first match or so, we hinted at things, leaving clues to the story behind what was bothering her. It was during the second match that I finally laid enough of a groundwork for Allison to finally proclaim to everyone that she was knocked up. This was my cue to start berating her even more.
This created what is called in Professional Wrestling "A Double Turn" where the role of Face (Good guy) and Heel (Bad guy) switch mid-match, and the audience finds itself sympathizing with the person they'd been indifferent too and hating the person they'd cheered. To this end, my friend's, my three best friend's in the world, quickly turned on me and took my baby sister's side.
They kicked out of the room.
I was watching Wrestlemania from the kitchen. While Allison was feeling the love and support of my friends.
I began to text her, asking when we could just get to the blow off spot and end this prank. She texted me back that she was just building suspense. I think she was having fun. Still, I wasn't going to stop mid-bit. I had to keep being a dick. I had to keep making fun of her. You wouldn't think a wrestling show would invite many comparisons to the moral laxness of unwed mothers, but if you try you'll find a way.
My friends, began to hate me.
Allison was loved by all.
Eventually, I had to kill the bit. Allison texted me that she was ready. I said that I was leaving and asked if Allison wanted to keep the coat-hanger, since that could solve her problem. She hit me. A bunch. So I grabbed her by the throat and lifted her above my head. Ready to choke-slam her through the living room table. Everyone freaked the fuck out.
I believe it was Matt who yelled, "No...You can't slam a pregnant girl!!!"
And, holding my kid sister above my head, (she was propping herself up with her arms on my shoulder, and I had a grip on her belt, we'd practiced this part earlier in the day) I began to laugh. As did Allison. We fell over the couch. Laughing hysterically telling them it was all a prank. As they calmed down, Nick looked at Allison and deadpanned, "Wait, so you're not mad at Joey or you're not pregnant? I'm confused."
Because Nick is awesome like that.
Anyway, the moral of the story is this. If you're going to really sell a prank, you better be willing to fake a pregnancy, turn your friends against you, miss at least half of your favorite sporting event and threaten to choke-slam your baby sister into a plate of nachos. Because selling the bit matters.
|Friday, March 21st, 2014|
I wasn't going to post here anymore, but I suddenly realized that I can post anything here and no one except maybe Leah is gonna read it. So, that's pretty great.
I'm waiting to hear back from Grad School. Mason and VCU. They are the only ones I applied to. I should have applied to more, but I was stressed and broke and it costs money just to apply; Money that, late in December, I just didn't have. So, they should have gotten back to me by now, but they haven't. Which I guess is better than a flat no. Anyway, the only wrinkle in this grad school thing is that on May 15th my lease runs out and I need to move. Of course since I don't know where I'll be going to school, I don't know where I should look for a place. I might end up back at my folks for a minute.
I don't really see much point in staying in NoVA if I don't get back into Mason. I'm tired of my job. I can't afford to live here on my own and I don't see Courtney and I getting a place together. She hates cats. Specifically Doom. She's jealous of the love I show him. It's complicated. But we love each other, but I don't think we're in love. Long term, it wouldn't work. But I can't be single while working for NTR, it would just be too hard to deal with. The travel. And the driving by COurtney's house every day because she lives and works next to where I do half my gigs. The constant reminder would just be too much. She keeps saying she is too busy, but also that she doesn't want to meet someone in he bar scene because they're just looking for sex. If we're using each other, at least it is mutual. And we do care about each other. We just don't work long term. And that's something that is going to have to be dealt with eventually.
I think Irene every day. I wish I could justify trying to win her back. But, I realize three things: I treated her deplorably; she is dating someone new, who while he seems lame is probably much kinder and; I should focus only on my writing. The last one is just a personal excuse, but the first two are pretty good reasons.
I tell myself every day that there is a reason that she is the only relationship of mine to go longer than six months. I think about how the only really happy day I've had in years was spent with her. And I remind myself that I really fucked it up.
Emotions are weird. They try and explain them to you, but do such a bad job. Like fear of commitment, that old chestnut. What an asshole phrase. See, I've been afraid. I've been in car crashes, I've had guns pulled on me, I saw Event Horizon in the theatre, I know scary. I was never afraid of committing to Irene. I just was worried about missing out on all the possible other sexual partners I wouldn't get to have. I was greedy. Or fickle. But not fearful.
Also, love is stupid, because love with Irene was calm and placid and nice and actually made me happy; which worked in direct contrast to every other relationship I've had where love is just the feeling you have that distinguishes 'not-fightin' from 'fighting'.
It doesn't really matter though. I'll miss her for a while. I hope I'll meet someone who makes me feel good. I don't think so though. It's something I always find amusing when my friends who've spent their lives in long term relationships tell me it's hard to meet someone. I'm feel like a guy coming off a buffet meeting a man at a hot dog stand who tells me there is nothing to eat. Of course in this metaphor the buffet was Old Country and I keep getting sick off the chocolate fountain...and that metaphor is falling apart in 3...2...1...yeah.
I'm writing again. That's good. Trying to do a thousand words a night. It's not a huge amount, but after work and work outs and dinner and playing with the cats, its a pace I can live with. Hopefully I'll be done by the end of Lent.
Of course I'm sober for Lent again. 28 days left.
That's it for now. I should get some sleep.
|Tuesday, December 10th, 2013|
|Just so you know
I graduated. I've been done with college for four months now. Go me. I guess in some ways this journal represented my path from college dropout to successful person. I'm done with it. I'll leave it here. But I haven't really been writing in it the last few months. Years. Goodbye, old friend.
|Friday, July 26th, 2013|
I think I might be done with College on Monday. At least my undergraduate classes. It all depends on one last test. Or... if I read the policies on Gen Ed studies, it doesn't matter at all and I have the credits. I don't know. I'll go to my faculty adviser on Monday and talk to her. But I could be done. Finally.