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01.04.2003 -


Where the fuck is it all coming from?

The snot, I mean. It's been damn near TWO WEEKS of this shit, and I am tired of living life with a kleenex surgically attached to my nose. I blow my nose, and everything seems free and clear - for about 2 whole seconds before BLAAAT, I'm ejecting another metric ton of crap out of my head.

I just don't get it. What part of my body is dedicated to mucus production, and why can't it refocus on making lean muscle mass or something? Not only am I creating Dumpsters full of crumpled snotty tissues, but I also have a charming sea-lion bark. I'm sure I'll be a lovely addition to our tradeshow booth next week, hacking away in front of potential customers while trailing thousands of wet kleenexes everywhere.


JB's brother Joe is visiting us this weekend. He and JB went for a couple of dives today, and we're all going out for steaks tonight in honor of Joe's birthday. The big lug is turning 25. Aw, and I remember when JB came staggering into my Portland apartment, viciously hungover from Joe's big 21st birthday bash.

That was actually right after my first official date with JB on New Year's Eve. JB was living in Corvallis (Oregon) while I was in Portland - about an hour and a half away. At the time Joe lived near Portland, so JB came by to visit me the day after Joe's birthday. I lived in a secure building, so I was waiting for the buzzer, and the buffer zone that comes with it - at least a full minute to anxiously primp in the bathroom mirror while someone rides up in the elevator - but JB had bypassed the system somehow and knocked right on my apartment door. We made the awkward small talk of two single people who had drunkenly made out in front of an entire party on New Year's, and headed out to a movie. As we walked by the parking lot next to my building, I made the first of several incredibly embarrassing comments.

"Street parking is a bitch around here. Just so you know, this is the lot for overnight parking."

Stop. What? Did I just say? The fuck? Activate blushing receptors…NOW. Ok, ok, back it up, you can fix this…

"I mean, if you stayed the night or something."

Oh, THAT clarifies things. Yes indeedy, can't get any more clear than that. Why not just tell him you always make it a plan to fuck on second dates?

"I mean. I mean, otherwise they issue tickets."

I have a seat for a Major Retard, party of one?

"I don't mean to imply you're staying the NIGHT, or anything…heh."

Ah, the weak little laugh there at the end has surely fixed this entire snafu. Yes, it's like you never made a total ass out of yourself - like you went back in time two minutes and ignored the nervous compulsion to chatter inanely. Also, YOU SUCK. Shut. Up. Now.

As I remember, we finally just ended up laughing at my inability to extract myself from the verbal diarrhea I had succumbed to. As to whether or not he stayed the night…well, let's keep that my little secret.

You know speed dating, the thing where you have like 5 minutes to figure out if you click with someone? God I would suck at that. I need WAY more than 5 minutes to eventually unearth a piece of my personality that isn't laughably tongue-tied, unbelievably inappropriate and/or profane, or painfully shy. I'm not saying those things are the majority of who I am on a normal basis, but they certainly are with people I've just met. I suppose that's why I have so few people in my life I call friends, it's the meeting new people thing that leaves me feeling like an agorophobe with Tourette's.


This site? Is funny.

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I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

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