Thursday, August 30, 2007

Plastic Wallets

Earlier this summer I finally broke down and bought my first new wallet in like... three years. It's not that my old wallet was all that great, by the time I finally got rid of it looked like it had been rode hard and put away wet. Most of the sleeves and little pouch things were torn and stuff was falling out of it all the time. I finally made up my mind to get a new one when I lost my credit card at the movie theatre :O , the Apex PD ended up visiting my parents, scaring the crap out of them thinking I'd been busted for doing something stupid, but really they had just gotten the billing address for the card (how?) and were trying to locate me. I was watching a movie at the time, my parents called me, and everything ended just fine. Many thanks to the boys in blue in A-Town.

Anyhow, I bought a new wallet the next day. I decided to do something different. Instead of my old standby, the leather bi-fold (I'm not a fan of that tri-fold crap) and went with a Mossimo pleather bi-fold. It has a trendy green stripe on one side and little breathing-holes similar to what you find on the tops of tennis shoes. Plus it was only like $12.

Turns out that was a big mistake. The pleather isn't exactly conducive to heat, and between my hot ass and the 100 degree, 70% humidity of the NC Piedmont region, it doesn't have anywhere to hide. It gets warm and sticks much the same way your ass sticks to a leather seat on a hot summer day. Opening the damn things sounds like a crunching potato chip and prying a credit card or the occasional dolla bill is a feat of engineering.

I hate my wallet, but the saddest part has to do with me being a tightwad now that I'm temporarily unemployed. I can't justify the dough to purchase a new wallet to store my dough. Is it me, or does it seem odd to spend money on something to store your money in?

I'm going to bed.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

This is who I are

I had a sudden rush of optimism as of fifteen minutes ago. This is odd for me, at least lately. I know it'll probably go away within the hour, but I'ma ride this wave until it crashes into the surf.

Loud, heavy music is the order of the day. Or at least right now. I plugged my bose-knock-off noise canceling headphones into my lappy, flip the switch and construct my playlist.

It's not varied or lengthy. Some songs from the new Linkin Park album, 30 Seconds to Mars, Hawthorne Heights and my favorite local band, Pivot. These guys sought us out as the story of my sister's murder was making the rounds in the media, and offered to turn their upcoming show at Volume 11 Tavern (just around the corner from where my sister was killed) into a benefit concert. We met with them and decided to give the show the go ahead, and it turns out that along with being an awesome group of guys they have a kickass sound. They gave me a copy of their newest EP and I've been addicted ever since. They have another show in Raleigh in late September, I'll definitely be making an effort to be there.

Anyhow, things are starting to get a little better. I'll hopefully be employed next month and have a chance to get out of the house for a change. All apologies to all of you for not keeping in contact. Between the grief and depression and general bull pucky that goes along with that I haven't been calling anybody, or leaving the house much for that matter. I'ma try and be better, but keep in mind, I love you all.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007


Here's a change of pace. As opposed to actually trying to make sense with my posts I'm just going to ramble on incoherently. This is the reason I hate most blogs. All people do is ramble on and on about themselves and nothing, but tonight (or rather this morning) I don't care.

I thought for a second about just talking to somebody about this stuff, but for the last week or so my mind has been touching on such non-linear subjects that all I can do is confuse people, and in turn probably scare them to an extent. Open a book, any book, now read only every eighth word. Yeah, that's what it's like in my head when I try to sleep.

My situation is on tumble dry right now. Everything has been tossed around, and I haven't even started to figure out where everything has ended up. I have a different outlook on life; I have no sympathy for others or myself when it comes to petty problems in life. I'm unemployed, and I came to the realization last week that I'm depressed.

Let me clarify that last statement. Yes, I'm struggling with depression issues. However, I'm not all that unhappy. All things considered my life is going just fine, I just have social anxiety issues, I disappear from my friends (something that's easy when 99% of them are 2000 miles away) and occasionally I don't leave the house for four days. I know that sounds terrible, but I've dealt with worse bouts of depression. I have a lot to be happy about. I have a great family including two beautiful nephews that I love being around, despite being unemployed I'm not in financial trouble, and I have a sweet ride. I know how to deal with this. It's not fun, but I know I can handle it and I'm starting to put together a plan to work through it. Things are good, I'm just depressed... that doesn't even make sense to me. I assume this is part of the grieving process. Who knows.

Anyway, time for something different that's been on my mind tonight.

As I was laying down trying to sleep I started thinking about a certain relationship I was in years ago. This girl absolutely blew my mind, I was infatuated. I spent almost every day that summer spending time with her. Anyway, I'll spare you the rest of the story, but you get the idea. Anyway, I was reminiscing, and yearning (for lack of a better word) to have those moments back, to have somebody that fascinates me like that again, that was by far the most amazing relationship I have ever been in. But was it really?

This girl and I went our separate ways, but stayed in touch. We saw each other again months later, and I was underwhelmed. She'd change, being with her then wasn't as incredible as it was before. Then shortly before she left again we had more great times together. Then she left again. Then we saw each other again and the same thing happened. Disappointment followed by those incredible moments that reminded me why I was so caught up in her to begin with. This happened a few more times before we finally drifted apart and found new people, but every once in a while, like tonight, I reflect on the good times we had. They seem so awesome, I can't believe I ever let her get away, but that's got to be my mind playing tricks on me. The relationship definitely wasn't perfect, she had personality quirks that drove me bonkers, but I don't remember those times as well.

This got me to thinking, are the great memories we have really that great? I think oftentimes we live in that moment, we capture it and glean out all the things we didn't love about it. Maybe that has something to do with why some people always end up getting back together when they probably shouldn't. They have those great times tucked away and subconsciously forget the not so great times. I think this is where "absence makes the heart grow fonder" kicks in.

That doesn't mean this girl from ages ago wasn't worth the trouble. She definitely was, and I hope the girl I marry someday in the very distant future is a lot like her. However, we have to keep things in perspective. Nobody is perfect, you're not going to get along all the time, or even most of the time, if you allow yourself to develop unreal expectations of people you're never going to be content with things.