Will You Come Home, And Stop This Pain Tonight?

A lot of times we get in the mode of saying "FML" after every little thing that happens to us even when it isn't so bad. We live our lives like Nancy Grace and gripe for-freaking-ever, and get nothing done. When in reality we should live like Anderson Cooper. Why? 1) Because the ladies dig him. 2)Because he keeps it real. 3)Have you seen his Hurricane Katrina footage? Cooper saves lives.

As people in this world progress towards the world of tomorrow I think we lost touch with what makes living great. Everyone around you.

Today around 2:00 a young junior higher came to my door with something I had already held a funeral for. My wallet in hand she(that's right, she.) handed me my identity. For a split second the world went all WoOoOoO, and I'm pretty positive the song "I Miss You" by Blink 182 began to play softly in the background.
(Read "I Wish I Was A Baller" for context)

I spent a good 5 minutes in shock at the fact that someone actually brought it back. I mean it is probably about as rare as an assassin being able to hit George W. with a shoe. (God knows that man practiced his entire life for that moment.)

I wish I had something more intellectual to say to her than my confused and awkward, "Uhhhh thank you.." Maybe something deep like, "Young child, thank you for returning my pocketbook. You see it contained my very livelyhood! Unto you I say young one, 'tis better to be happy and destitute, then sad and wealthy!"

In a British accent of course.

So my advice:

Today, say "hi" to a stranger or just hold the door open for someone else. I promise you the stranger will be thoroughly weirded out which is both hilarious AND nice! Two-fer. 

Because sometimes I wish I was a little less cynical. 

Because maybe I need an intervention.

Because maybe I need a psychologist.

Or maybe I just need the attractive legal aide from The Social Network to say the lines supposedly spoken to Mark Zuckerberg to me, and perhaps everyone like me.

Marylin Delpy: "You're not an a***hole, Mark. You're just trying so hard to be."

I Wish I Was A Baller

Sometimes life throws you a curveball like a relationship ending or some junior higher jacking your wallet, and you are supposed to be upset. You are supposed to spend time in grief, or prison. Depends how hard you hit the kid, and how fast you can run if the parents are in earshot. However, my upcoming lawsuit has nothing to do with this post. I evidently have no sense of emotional attachment anymore. 

After 3 hours of searching for my MIA wallet, and a thorough final run through with a dog that had my scent I was forced to let my hopes crash on the the rocky stones of reality. My wallet was long gone. Perhaps it is on a beach somewhere enjoying a Pina Colada, or in Narnia having some turkish delight...I can only hope it suffered such a delicious fate.

If I recall correctly the words I uttered at the time of this horrid defeat were, "Sometimes my life makes my heart hurt."

It's true. Beneath my Fabio-esque muscles my heart was hurting. Why? I'm not sure. It had all my information, but most of it is worthless. Maybe that is why it hurts. I had to acknowledge that nothing in that manpurse/wallet was of any real value to me. Should this jerk off of a junior higher actually steal my identity the most he could purchase is a used DeLorean on what little credit I have, and pray that he can hit the proper velocity to fly back in time and tell his mother to never have him. 

Why? Because I will find him, and give him a stern talking to..with my fist.

JKJKJKLOLOLOL

I would never do that. I am actually okay that my wallet is lost to the universe; I am actually okay that I am single; I am actually okay that my life is kind of simple right now.

Hell broke loose today in the form of a thieving child. 

However, someone else also told me today that they read my blog, and liked it alot. They said they were genuinely impressed, and despite being poor and identity-less. That meant a whole heck of a lot more.

I'm not sure why I am the way I am, but I kind of like it. Even if it is a tragically wallet-less lifestyle.

And to the child who stole my identity, enjoy my debt. Oh, and also my late fees that I owe almost every single movie rental facility in the city. Also, if you could build my credit up that would be nice.

KTHXBAI.

You're Gonna Go Far Kid

"If there is one thing I've learned thus far in my life it's that context and citing your sources can help you save a lot of face. Someone can take a few meager lines from a Facebook post full of truth and meaning and make it say something completely different."

George Washington said that. He did, I promise.

For once in my life I've reached a point(outside of my awesome teen angst. Sorry mom.) where I really could care less about how people portray me. Which some would say is a good thing, and give me a high five and say, "Screw the world bro, write all the Facebook posts involving The Hangover quotes that you want!" Others may say, "What other people think about you is important. You should be a better example."

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."
I was always taught in school that character was who you were when people weren't looking, and I'm tired of pretending that that version of myself is some spiritual genius that hangs out and and tries to make everything have some deep meaning to impress everyone.

I'll be honest I make bad decisions. On rare occasions of course. Use everything in moderation children! Even ignorance, and sometimes that compelling feeling that you have to always share your thoughts.

For example: "I, for some reason can not get you out of my head, and that could be dangerous. That could cost me a lot of face, but for some reason my ignorance is exceptionally well above the standard levels right now."

Point proven. I said just enough to be dangerous, but kept it vague and targetless to cover up the fact that I can't cover up the fact that I may or may not be a complete idiot.

A key sign of maturity is learning when to shut up, and when to say something.
However I promise if you just give me a try I'll be the best mistake you ever make.

Would You Like To Kill This Page?

No, Google Chrome. No, I would not like to commit a felony homicide on my web browser. Maybe manslaughter at best, and that only applies if something requires "buffering". Why am I here? Does anyone read this dribble anymore? Do people still care about vaguely stated opinions expressed via the interweb blogosphere? I don't know, but I'll write a bit anyways. 

Maybe some sense of self healing occurs when you write. Maybe somehow this will give me some sense of commitment to accomplish something; even if it is only to an audience that may not even exist.  Maybe, just maybe. 

However, all insane dribble aside I think I will write about something. Something happy, or sad, or some weird awkward chick flick mix of both. I'll write about how I think too much. I'll write about how my love life is a absolutely awesome(You'll learn to catch my sarcasm over time young padawan). I'll write about how too many people write and that it is too mainstream for me, but it's okay because I learned to write before it was cool(the 80's I think? I was born in 89' that still counts). I'll write about how one day, some way or another I will change this world. 

It probably won't be big, but hey if Charlie Sheen can get on TV for being a warlock then I can get on for..well...I guess anything that actually exists. Wizard? Is that too close? I'll go with Wizard, and I'll dazzle the world with my ability to play Sex and Candy by Marcy's Playground on guitar. Not because it is hard, but because no one remembers the 90's anymore.

Hey, "I didn't say I was powerful. I said I was a wizard."

Kill that Google Chrome you murder enabler.