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New Years Eve (aka Happy Tuesday) saw the formal return of the thing I've been avoiding for approx. four months, now: Courtney. She called to invite me to go out and do New Year's crap with her and her husband and their friends. There was no way in hell I was going to go out with her. I genuinely felt like shit, but there was the fact that there's a matter of principle here. I blew off Aaron and Kista recently, and I think of them as friends. Be damned if I'm going to go somewhere with this person who's fucked me up so hard that I've gotta separate myself from her just to get my head right again.
That, and I'd already posted that I was already staying inside away from the world, and I had every intention of getting fucked up in the comfort of my own home. Sha'nt lie to the journal.
In any case. Courtney has a new car. What's up with all of my old high school chums getting new cars, and me being stuck at home without wheels? This validates the feeling I've had for several months that I've been left behind. Again. I wrote about the Simpsons were at the heights of their popularity when I was in 7th grade. I say this because I had two, yes, two Simpsons shirts at that time. One of them said "Bart Simpson: Underachiever and proud of it." I didn't feel that way at the time, and I certainly wasn't an underachiever at the time (all honors classes, baby), but that didn't last. Now I can't help but feel like an underachiever.
Balls on it.
Before tonight, I can't remember the last time I'd shaven. I'd come to a "Fuck it!" mentality about shaving. Just let it all go, man. See how nasty you can get before you can't stand it anymore. Tonight, after shampooing my face (haha, that's trippy) in the shower, I got out and combed my facehair out. Then I grabbed a ruler. My sideburns were an inch and a half long. Yeah. Wolverine indeed. or Rico, for those of you who watch WWE. And it wasn't even. Upon seeing its unevenness, I decieded it was time for the beard to go. So that's gone... I kept a long goatee, though... One of my customers has a long goatee thing, comes almost down to his belly button. His name's Reggie. Owns a place called Bell Bottom's. The place is crap... i went there one night and saw a girl get a beer bottle shoved up her stuff. She was trying to win fifty bucks. The most fun I had that night was at around 3:00 am when they played You Shook Me All Night Long... but it was a fucking dance mix. Imagine that.
Bob is a good man. He has varying tastes in things. Bob's taste in movies and books are off the fucking charts, and there are times when Bob and I see eye to eye on music, but the point is, when it comes to most media, if Bob says it's good, he's usually right. I have a handful of friends like that; they keep me in the good swag.
They keep my dad in good swag, too. He just doesn't know it. For Christmas I got my dad Dirty White Boys by Stephen Hunter, which was recommended to me by Bob LONG ago. As such, I began searching for it long ago, but could never find it. It was my luck that I happened upon it on a trip to a bookstore and thought it would be a good gift for Dad. Dad thought so too. He thanks you, Bob, he just doesn't know it.
As soon as he was finished with it, I picked it up. I'd say I'm almost halfway finished with it, and I've found something very strange about it. Not gonna say what, seeing as how this is a public forum, and there might be someone who might want to read the book reading this. But this is definitely not the ordinary good guy vs bad guy, cop vs robber book. Deep shit bubbling under the surface here. Not in a bad way.
I've blown my nose so much that I've rubbed the skin off a little spot under my nose.
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club was unjustly lumped into that whole scene with the White Stripes and whatnot. This is something else entirely. Not sure what... but I like it. A lot.
Forgot to thank Marissa for the links to the Hater CDs. I'm stupid. I've never messed with half.com before. Sorry for the ignorance, thanks tons for the help. You're a queen!
Stole that last bit from Dante.
I woke up having a strange dream. I was drinking shots with people I didn't know. Not an entirely bad dream... just strange. Now I can't sleep. But I think I'll go try.
