The Day Before I Went Postal, and Other Cute Stories of Death and Violence
Borders. That's where I am. The bookstore in crossgates mall. I am here because I offered to drive my mom to the airport at a ridiculous hour this morning (or was it last night? Well, six of one...). I then attempted to sleep in my car while I waited for Panera Bread to open (Who'da thunk that a place that serves breakfast would not open until 7:30? Lame, Panera. Lame), but I didn't sleep. I had some coffee there and breakfast. Then I surfed the web for a while as I was waiting for a multitude of Albany people that I texted last night, or this morning, to text me back. It's noon and I haven't heard from anyone yet... is there life out there? Guess not. At 11:00 I came to crossgates. I broke the zipper on one of my two pairs of work pants that I like and so I intended to buy more. I found a style that mostly fit (although they are hipster pants and are skinny around the ankles... guess I'll have to deal) and bought three pairs. I didn't want spend anymore money, so I came to Borders with every intention of doing exactly what I'm doing now.
It seems like when a zombie Armageddon occurs, it only inflicts people that I know.
Maybe everyone stayed out late, like I did.
I am currently a mixture of caffeine rush (a full on coffee jitter experience) and brutal exhaustion. After a night of hanging in Saratoga with friends, I didn't hit my pillow until 2:30 in the morning. And then I got up at five to take my mom to the airport.
Throughout Albany, people that I know are in their beds... and they mock me from their slumber. God damn zombies...
While in the mall, I found two things of note that I took pictures of:
Darkwing Duck T-shirt. No more description needed.
This one is an inside joke between my friend Bill O and I. You'll have to ask him what CCS stands for and why "Coming Soon!" is ironic. CCS is already here! And it's in full force this year!
Part of last night's festivities-with-friends included dinner at Sushi Tai Garden in Saratoga. My friend Casey had his sushi delivered on a boat. Everyone else took out cameras so I took a picture too.
Ha! I remember this one. I was in Dunkin Donuts one morning and was waiting for a sausage egg and cheese croissant when I saw this sign and laughed out loud. I wanted to photoshop the word "BITCH" on to it, but I don't have photoshop anymore...
How do you take it BITCH! Now git in da kitchin and make me a donut sammich!
Right.
The jittery exhaustion is making me irritated. But I'm not quite sure my thoughts are organized enough to bitch about my life, the universe, and everything in a cohesive manner. It would certainly start with my house -- wait. It starts with the fact that Borders is playing Sarah McLachlan on repeat... now, I like me some Sarah as much as the next sensitive-in-touch-with-his-feelings guy, but repeat isn't doing Sarah any justice... Right. The house. I own a house. Which means I am paying a mortgage and not saving any money. On top of that, I have to paint one side of the money sucking trap and painting sucks. First, I scraped and the other day I painted. It's not nearly done and I really don't care if it ever gets finished. It's a lot of work on top of regular daily activities (which include my job and cleaning the inside of the house and mowing the lawn -- all things I hate to do to begin with). And right now I wouldn't mind if it burned down, so I could collect the insurance, pay off the mortgage, and move into a comfy apartment. Just let me get my guitar and the cat out first please.
Women is the second thing that I'm infuriatingly irritated at. All of them... you... whatever. If I have to listen to another woman talk about their douchey boyfriend or wishywashy guy that isn't giving them the attention that they want, I'm going to start slitting throats... with my bare hands (in a robot Chuck Norris kind of way). "So, what you are saying is that you can't have an intelligent conversation with this dude and so you are having it with me instead, but you wouldn't really want to date me would you?" I feel raped... emotionally. Seriously. Here me out. Girl uses me for her emotional discussion, then turns around (literally, this is exactly what happened) and makes out with another dude. I was raped. Used. Handed a dirty tissue and sent packing. Alright. Score another one in the friend-zone.
I'm getting a little sick and tired of being Ducky (Sixteen Candles reference). I'm always the fool friend that's in love with Molly Ringwald, who confides all her undying love for the football star, or class president, or general "cool-guy" with a plastic smile, who won't give her any attention. She wants everything that we have (and literally will go as far as to say, "I just couldn't keep a conversation going with him; Like, you and I talked the entire night." Yes. Literally, this occurred).
Part B of my complaint on all woman kind has to do with those of you on the dating sites. It's a DATING site, girls. If you're on it, you're looking for a DATE. Or am I confused about the whole thing? See, when I write you a little superficial message about the weather and the area and what we seem to have in common and you write me back and I ask if you'd like to get coffee or something, an answer would be nice. Yes or no. Or are we supposed to do the email back and forth thing forever? I've tried that to. Am I moving too fast by *GASP* asking you on a fucking date... on a DATING website? The patented matching system says I am exactly (98%) what YOU are looking for... and you don't respond to my message... beautiful. Match this, Skank, and your stupid toothy smile and gorgeous brown eyes.
The cell still hasn't buzzed.
Which leads me to something else... since being single, I made a big change in who-I-am-as-a-person. I became a "yes" person when it comes to getting together with friends and doing things-in-general. For instance, if I get a text from someone that says "let's do such-and-such-thing at such-and-such-place" then I respond with "yes. Let's." This has resulted in the opposite effect in the world of people-that-I-know. For example, I send out a text to a friend, "let's do such-and-such-thing at such-and-such-place." And the responses that I get: "Have to take a raincheck." "Doing something else." "Don't feel like going out." "Flying solo tonight." And my favorite response of all is the resounding silence that says so much.
Apparently I'm in a snowglobe; I'm surrounded by flakes.
I had a neat revelation with a single musician friend of mine. He said that all of the women he meets have problems with their cell phones. I have certainly met a few. We counted; together we know at least 500 people who have working cell phones, but the girls we attempt to date (including the ones on the dating sites) have cell phones that are damaged or don't get texts promptly or voicemail is broken... and they never get a replacement or an upgrade.
Truth be told: rejection sucks. Hearing a "no thanks, I don't want to hang out with you tonight" hurts a little. But it's the truth and it's polite to be honest. If I know you don't want anything to do with me (AKA aren't going to return my texts), at least I can get back up and move on. I can text someone else and test their level of flakiness and go down the list of names until someone desires getting together.
I'm going to buy a nerf gun with rapid fire and unload on people at the mall... maybe I'll steal a whole arsenal of nerf weapons and arm myself like Neo in the first Matrix movie...
Why Nerf? I really don't want to kill anyone... Seriously.
It's one o'clock now and I still haven't gotten an buzzes on my cell phone... maybe the fucker is damaged. How do you take it bitch? I hope you take it with a nerf gun... and Sarah McLachlan is still playing...
Rant/vent/what-have-you is over.
To prove that I'm not going to kill anyone, here are some cute pictures of my cat hiding in the on-call bag for work:
It seems like when a zombie Armageddon occurs, it only inflicts people that I know.
Maybe everyone stayed out late, like I did.
I am currently a mixture of caffeine rush (a full on coffee jitter experience) and brutal exhaustion. After a night of hanging in Saratoga with friends, I didn't hit my pillow until 2:30 in the morning. And then I got up at five to take my mom to the airport.
Throughout Albany, people that I know are in their beds... and they mock me from their slumber. God damn zombies...
While in the mall, I found two things of note that I took pictures of:
Darkwing Duck T-shirt. No more description needed.
This one is an inside joke between my friend Bill O and I. You'll have to ask him what CCS stands for and why "Coming Soon!" is ironic. CCS is already here! And it's in full force this year!
Part of last night's festivities-with-friends included dinner at Sushi Tai Garden in Saratoga. My friend Casey had his sushi delivered on a boat. Everyone else took out cameras so I took a picture too.
Ha! I remember this one. I was in Dunkin Donuts one morning and was waiting for a sausage egg and cheese croissant when I saw this sign and laughed out loud. I wanted to photoshop the word "BITCH" on to it, but I don't have photoshop anymore...
How do you take it BITCH! Now git in da kitchin and make me a donut sammich!
Right.
The jittery exhaustion is making me irritated. But I'm not quite sure my thoughts are organized enough to bitch about my life, the universe, and everything in a cohesive manner. It would certainly start with my house -- wait. It starts with the fact that Borders is playing Sarah McLachlan on repeat... now, I like me some Sarah as much as the next sensitive-in-touch-with-his-feelings guy, but repeat isn't doing Sarah any justice... Right. The house. I own a house. Which means I am paying a mortgage and not saving any money. On top of that, I have to paint one side of the money sucking trap and painting sucks. First, I scraped and the other day I painted. It's not nearly done and I really don't care if it ever gets finished. It's a lot of work on top of regular daily activities (which include my job and cleaning the inside of the house and mowing the lawn -- all things I hate to do to begin with). And right now I wouldn't mind if it burned down, so I could collect the insurance, pay off the mortgage, and move into a comfy apartment. Just let me get my guitar and the cat out first please.
Women is the second thing that I'm infuriatingly irritated at. All of them... you... whatever. If I have to listen to another woman talk about their douchey boyfriend or wishywashy guy that isn't giving them the attention that they want, I'm going to start slitting throats... with my bare hands (in a robot Chuck Norris kind of way). "So, what you are saying is that you can't have an intelligent conversation with this dude and so you are having it with me instead, but you wouldn't really want to date me would you?" I feel raped... emotionally. Seriously. Here me out. Girl uses me for her emotional discussion, then turns around (literally, this is exactly what happened) and makes out with another dude. I was raped. Used. Handed a dirty tissue and sent packing. Alright. Score another one in the friend-zone.
I'm getting a little sick and tired of being Ducky (Sixteen Candles reference). I'm always the fool friend that's in love with Molly Ringwald, who confides all her undying love for the football star, or class president, or general "cool-guy" with a plastic smile, who won't give her any attention. She wants everything that we have (and literally will go as far as to say, "I just couldn't keep a conversation going with him; Like, you and I talked the entire night." Yes. Literally, this occurred).
Part B of my complaint on all woman kind has to do with those of you on the dating sites. It's a DATING site, girls. If you're on it, you're looking for a DATE. Or am I confused about the whole thing? See, when I write you a little superficial message about the weather and the area and what we seem to have in common and you write me back and I ask if you'd like to get coffee or something, an answer would be nice. Yes or no. Or are we supposed to do the email back and forth thing forever? I've tried that to. Am I moving too fast by *GASP* asking you on a fucking date... on a DATING website? The patented matching system says I am exactly (98%) what YOU are looking for... and you don't respond to my message... beautiful. Match this, Skank, and your stupid toothy smile and gorgeous brown eyes.
The cell still hasn't buzzed.
Which leads me to something else... since being single, I made a big change in who-I-am-as-a-person. I became a "yes" person when it comes to getting together with friends and doing things-in-general. For instance, if I get a text from someone that says "let's do such-and-such-thing at such-and-such-place" then I respond with "yes. Let's." This has resulted in the opposite effect in the world of people-that-I-know. For example, I send out a text to a friend, "let's do such-and-such-thing at such-and-such-place." And the responses that I get: "Have to take a raincheck." "Doing something else." "Don't feel like going out." "Flying solo tonight." And my favorite response of all is the resounding silence that says so much.
Apparently I'm in a snowglobe; I'm surrounded by flakes.
I had a neat revelation with a single musician friend of mine. He said that all of the women he meets have problems with their cell phones. I have certainly met a few. We counted; together we know at least 500 people who have working cell phones, but the girls we attempt to date (including the ones on the dating sites) have cell phones that are damaged or don't get texts promptly or voicemail is broken... and they never get a replacement or an upgrade.
Truth be told: rejection sucks. Hearing a "no thanks, I don't want to hang out with you tonight" hurts a little. But it's the truth and it's polite to be honest. If I know you don't want anything to do with me (AKA aren't going to return my texts), at least I can get back up and move on. I can text someone else and test their level of flakiness and go down the list of names until someone desires getting together.
I'm going to buy a nerf gun with rapid fire and unload on people at the mall... maybe I'll steal a whole arsenal of nerf weapons and arm myself like Neo in the first Matrix movie...
Why Nerf? I really don't want to kill anyone... Seriously.
It's one o'clock now and I still haven't gotten an buzzes on my cell phone... maybe the fucker is damaged. How do you take it bitch? I hope you take it with a nerf gun... and Sarah McLachlan is still playing...
Rant/vent/what-have-you is over.
To prove that I'm not going to kill anyone, here are some cute pictures of my cat hiding in the on-call bag for work:
