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post #89
bio: chris

first post
that week

Previous Posts
On Sting (and other crap)
Things I Say to My Dad, Because (like myself) He Thinks, Irrationally, He's Going to Die Soon
Why Hipstamatic Was Invented
Happy Mother's Day, Y'all
Black Pear Tree (Guest Post from John Darnielle)

New Year's Resolutions: A Violation
Ah, New Year's. I won't even begin to explain how I rang in the New Year. I probably will eventually. It was quite an interesting experience, and I'm hoping Klutch will give his account of it as well, seeing as he was there and that this New Year's -- for what it's worth -- was definitely one for the ages.

Just one question, though. What does it portend for the New Year if you accidentally find yourself (yourself being an ignorant, unknowing straight male) spending New Year's Eve in a lesbian club?

Anyhow, I made a couple of New Year's resolutions. I'm not so sure if they're "New Year's Resolutions" so much as just some things I think I need to do for myself, and I just happened to come to these realizations right around the New Year.

New Year's Resolution #1 was this: I promised myself I wouldn't write so much personal "Me do this, me do that, me feel this way" stuff on the Robot. People know way too much about me, and I don't think anyone needs to know any more. Don't you agree?

New Year's Resolution #2 was this: I promised myself that, in essence, I would only talk to three people who were not my immediate family or co-workers in any sense. I will not divulge who these three people are, but you three people, you know who you are, 'cuz I've been talking to you. This sorta goes back to Resolution #1, where I think that way too many people know way too much about me, and I'm making an effort to limit that. Again, my reasons for this are many and numerous (that's kinda the same redundant thing isn't it? Aw hell, f' it) and whatever, they're mine. But, it's funny. Whenever people have problems and need to talk about 'em, they usually come to me. And I'm fine with this. Infact, in many ways, I relish it. My friends need someone, and I feel honored to be the guy they come to. But on the other hand, whenever I have whatever crap that's on my mind... well, I don't think anyone needs to know this, nor do I think they should have to deal with it. After all, what's on my mind is on MY mind, and why should I burden someone else with my crap? It doesn't pertain to them. It is mine and mine alone Why should anyone whose not me care? Fact is, they shouldn't.

Well, by writing this, I'm violating Resolution #1. And I've already violated Resolution #2, though in some cases I've sorely regretted doing so after I've done so. So I'm warning you all, this post is in direct violation of everything I promised myself. Read on if you will. But I'm not doing this because I want to talk to anyone. I'm doing this because this is my little corner of the world, and I need to get it out somewhere. And if I want to talk to a computer screen, by golly, I'll talk to a computer screen.

They fixed the heat in my bedroom. Now instead of it being way to freaking cold, it's way too freaking hot, and I can't find a happy medium.

A girl we were hanging out with on New Year's decided that it was a good idea for her to kiss me in front of her date. I of course, in the moment, didn't think this was a bad idea. I, for better or worse, have always lived by the motto "Kiss First and Ask Questions Later". Of course, I didn't feel super special about this, as she probably would have kissed the toilet if it had a pulse. (This is in no way meant to derogate the kisser, as she is a very lovely young lass -- both very pretty and very fun to hang out with. But in the state she was in... Yeah. Woulda made out with bathroom appliances.) Of course, after this happened, I go to the table her date is sitting at and start singing a Decemberists song to him... which starts out with the lyrics "I'm really sorry Steven, but your bicycle's been stolen." If you read the rest of the lyrics to that song (it's called "Apology Song") it's really a cold thing to sing to a guy whose date you just made out with in front of him. But whatever. It made me feel like a bad-ass.

I really want to go out for a smoke after every paragraph, but my body is definitely not up for it like my spirit is. In my world, Spirit usually wins out over Body. But right now, Body's winning this fight. Let's see if that lasts.

Ah, but The Porch is so nice. And the sky is clear. You can see forever out there. And the winter air always refreshes me. I've already had twelve. Thirteen can't hurt any more, can it?

Spirit just beat Body again.

I was hanging out with Decker and Klutch tonight. At one point in the evening Decker made a comment that how, as we're getting older, we have less and less interest in making actual new friends and getting to really know new people. The three of us agreed on this, in essence saying that we're close to the people that we're close to and don't think we wanna get any closer to anyone else. I could be wrong. That was my take on it. But as the only single person in the room, this saddened me. It's true. I'm close with the people I'm close to, and don't really trust anyone who's not them. So, if this is true, how am I supposed to find some sort of partner to share my life with? I guess I'm not, and I know this and sort of relish it. But at the same time, it made me sad to realize that I'm a 26-year-old Old Maid.
And then I look in the mirror and realize that I'm a damn good lookin' relatively young male who plays guitar. Why don't I have a plethora of young ladies knocking down my door? Probably because I do asshole things like kiss girls in front of their dates.

Is it wrong that I look at Lester Burnham's story (Kevin Spacey in American Beauty) as a hero's rise to power rather than a cautionary tale?

Yeah, broke the hell out of those two resolutions.

I'm really sorry Steven, but your bicycle's been stolen.

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