Lao-Tzu in my Living Room
I've spent the past nine months searching for solace. I found heartbreak in January, dealing with the fallout of a past relationship- one which ended precisely because of my own selfish ignorance. The ordeal resurfaced when she took a trip up here to visit me (though it wasn't so much of a visit as it was her best effort in helping a friend get setup in Columbus). We rediscovered our love, and along with it the reasons why it wasn't meant to be.
In the two years since we'd been apart, she found love in someone else. She had been dating him for well over a year when she visited me, but I wasn't about to be deterred by this. We fucked on her third night in town, and I wrote it off as (severely overdue) breakup sex. I felt absolutely no remorse for being "the other man." When she left, I realized how much I missed her- that I really did still love her- and I spent the afternoon in tears on the couch. I tried to get over her by getting under someone else. Less than eight hours after her flight, I was at a house party fucking the hell out of some blonde girl. I didn't even get her name.
I spent winter and spring questioning my actions. I never thought I would become the person that breaks up a relationship. I never hoped to be someone who sleeps around to get over someone. I used to know the name of every person I kissed, and I never thought the day would come that I'd cease to remember. But clearly, the day had come, and I wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. So I tried a bunch of things: I grew out my hair, fasted, boxed, went on drug binges, went vegetarian, removed television from my house, took up harmonica, joined a jam band, learned how to dance, befriended gypsy/hippie folk, developed a Korean culinary repertoire, and delved deeply into The Beatles (amongst other things).
I ended up with enough adventures to last a lifetime. On my 21st birthday, I marched with my best friend in an anti-prohibition rally, only to end up being held at gunpoint outside a liquor store. I've been propositioned by prostitutes, co-eds, and Mrs. Robinsons' (think The Graduate) alike. I've been caught up in shady drug deals, fist fights with ex-marines, and 4am run-ins with the police. I've woken up in people's houses without the slightest idea of who they were or how I ended up there. And that's just what happened in spring.
Summer has been one bender after another. I became a regular at seven bars, visiting them so frequently that I've yet to be carded since June. I regularly enjoy after hours privileges at two of them- a hipster lodge bar and an underground punk rock pub. They even know me by name at my favorite Greek diner. It's not uncommon for me to walk down the street and be greeted and high fived by people who claim to have partied with me. I really wish I knew their names.
As much fun as it's all been, it wasn't what I was hoping for. I choose to stay here to train for boxing- to get in shape and feel better about myself physically. That train got derailed when I made the fateful decision to abandon my vegetarianism in order to barbeque. My friends and I just enjoy my fajitas too damn much. With the food and the terrible hangovers, finding the grit to get up early and run/fight has been demanding. But it's not as though I haven't been trying. I average five miles and fifteen rounds a week- fairly meager by boxing standards, though slightly above the exercise regimen of the average bear.
I suppose the real reason I'm unable to be more dedicated is that I don't have a full time day job. Since June, I've been working freelance for a technology consulting firm, which means I get paid really well for working sporadic hours. Some weeks I'll be working every day, while others none at all. The freedom this gives me is spectacular in terms of both free time and work experiences; I worked at the Ohio bar exam as a site engineer for the supreme court, repaired exchange servers infected by an undetectable rootkit, redesigned the network infrastructure for a government agency, set up computer labs for an elementary school, and ran the IT department for a mid sized non profit company. Kind of cool being able to meet people across the city, but it's always high-stress situations that I'm called into, and that takes a lot out of me. So I basically blow all my cash on bars in order to recuperate.
But its not always bars that I rely on. At one point near mid July, a friend of mine called me up to do mushrooms with him. He bought an eighth off his frat brother and wanted me to be his trip partner, figuring that I'd be down for it. We ended up chasing raccoons around the lake, dancing at a gin joint, toking up with hippies, jamming with a local band, and discussing intently the intricacies of The Beatles, destiny and love. He made the decision that night to propose to his girlfriend of three years. I got him a job two days later at a place I used to work for, and he saved up his earnings to buy the ring. He's now in his first year of law school at a top tier institution, but he's waiting for the leaves to change colors before he proposes.
Since that night, I've found myself in a bit of a slump. I've been dating girls here and there, though I've yet to seriously date someone that's interested in anything besides one night stands. The average bear should be happy with that kinda girl, but I guess I'm just old fashioned.
In hopes of a fresh start, I finally cut my hair and shaved my beard last week (the latter I've had for nearly two years). Most of my friends don't recognize me anymore- indeed, a good number of them had never seen me clean-shaven before! I look and feel like a different person, like the kind of guy I used to be back when I was younger. I've got a job interview coming up for a full time IT position, and I imagine I'll get it since I'm no longer scary looking.
This has been the craziest year of my life. My best friend's mom is growing pot in her garden. My father is going blind from diabetes, and he nearly died a month ago were it not for an emergency bypass. I've got five love interests, one of which a close friend of mine is also into. I've decided to be vegetarian again, though finding the right time to make the switch is key. With any luck, I'll make it happen by week's end.
Speaking of which, I now have a lucky cricket. My neighbor and I were hanging out tonight, enjoying the waning moments of the late summer. We watched a kung fu movie, then sat on the porch for a few hours, drinking malt liquor and speaking of manly things. He notices a one-legged cricket below the concrete steps, and I tell him that it must be lucky for being able to survive with just one leg. We bring him inside, setting him in a plastic tupperware jar. I cut him bits of tomato and give him a tiny sponge, soaked with water. He's now living like a king on the mantle in my living room, in front of an empty bottle of Bombay Sapphire. I think I'll call him Lao-Tzu.