Alone and classy
There really aren't enough ways for me to say that I don't write in this enough. Truth be told, I don't live an exciting life because of working from home, having mostly married/engaged friends, and not being enough of a drunk. So I'm gonna talk about how February likes to put the WORST days ever back-to-back just for me.
Now I am lucky in the sense that I've never had anything extremely gruesome happen to me, Captain Superstitious, on Friday the 13th. I recall having a few crappy school days in middle and high school, but no losing any limbs or waking up to wombats pooping on my chest. Though it didn't help that I consciously avoided playing online today, and of course, the bad beat jackpot hits on the poker site I play on, at the same buy-in limit and tables I always play, with $41k going to everyone at the table, and the winner/loser of the hand getting $400k/$200k each. But if I was sitting there, it likely wouldn't have happened anyway, it's more of a stick in my craw since a significant part of the rake goes towards that jackpot and the guys that win these things never even donate it back, they just leave the site forever or gamble it off in blackjack or something.
Valentine's Day is more of a Friday the 13th to me. I've had 3 non-terrible V-days, and just one literally great one. Last year was ok despite being platonic. I had dinner with Kristina at some random Thai restaurant, and I had also won the biggest pot of my life earlier in the day for about $2400. Before that, the last decent one I had was when I was on February vacation in 8th grade with my parents in Cancun, and I spent most of the day drinking Sex on the Beach and Pina Coladas pool-side as there was a bikini-modeling show at the hotel that day. Of course, I later learned my then-girlfriend was cheating on me that day was less than ideal, but at least I was soaking up the rays and wasted underage.
And pretty much the only traditional V-day was when I was 13, and spent it at a Thai restaurant (hm, didn't notice that theme, I literally have never been to a Thai restaurant outside of V-day and Titanic with my then-girlfriend. She didn't even cry at the end. Suffice to say, she sure didn't cry when having her friend dump me VIA EMAIL the next week. This was in 1998, so way more unexpected/brutal then than it would be now.
So I don't know how I'm going to forget about this commercial holiday to be honest. I turned down going to Monster Jam in Worcester with Steve-o because it'd have to be completely sober since he has work the next day, lives in Boston, I couldn't crash at Jess' place since she'll obviously be having a real V-day with her husband, and frankly, I can't fathom enjoying Monster Jam without being totally shitfaced. Probably play a lot of poker unless it gets depressing fast, lift, and finish off two bottles of Pinot by myself watching something on streaming Netflix. Oh well, it can't be anywhere near as depressing as 2000(2001 maybe), when I fawned over Andrea Jorgensen for way too long, got her some really lame talking bear, then later saw her making out (it might have been faux-making out, since Steve Pierce did that a lot) in the hall, or just embarrassing like 2006 when I drove out to the middle of nowhere for a first date with this girl, brought her mums since I thought roses were cliche but didn't know mums were funeral flowers (foreshadowing FTW), and chose out of her craptacular movie collection to watch Freddy Got Fingered, since it is one of my favorite "awful" movies and she claimed to have loved Tom Green but was immediately turned off by it and me.
Well, I desires to write something more insightful but better than nadda. We'll see what comes out when I'm buzzed later. Toodles.
Now I am lucky in the sense that I've never had anything extremely gruesome happen to me, Captain Superstitious, on Friday the 13th. I recall having a few crappy school days in middle and high school, but no losing any limbs or waking up to wombats pooping on my chest. Though it didn't help that I consciously avoided playing online today, and of course, the bad beat jackpot hits on the poker site I play on, at the same buy-in limit and tables I always play, with $41k going to everyone at the table, and the winner/loser of the hand getting $400k/$200k each. But if I was sitting there, it likely wouldn't have happened anyway, it's more of a stick in my craw since a significant part of the rake goes towards that jackpot and the guys that win these things never even donate it back, they just leave the site forever or gamble it off in blackjack or something.
Valentine's Day is more of a Friday the 13th to me. I've had 3 non-terrible V-days, and just one literally great one. Last year was ok despite being platonic. I had dinner with Kristina at some random Thai restaurant, and I had also won the biggest pot of my life earlier in the day for about $2400. Before that, the last decent one I had was when I was on February vacation in 8th grade with my parents in Cancun, and I spent most of the day drinking Sex on the Beach and Pina Coladas pool-side as there was a bikini-modeling show at the hotel that day. Of course, I later learned my then-girlfriend was cheating on me that day was less than ideal, but at least I was soaking up the rays and wasted underage.
And pretty much the only traditional V-day was when I was 13, and spent it at a Thai restaurant (hm, didn't notice that theme, I literally have never been to a Thai restaurant outside of V-day and Titanic with my then-girlfriend. She didn't even cry at the end. Suffice to say, she sure didn't cry when having her friend dump me VIA EMAIL the next week. This was in 1998, so way more unexpected/brutal then than it would be now.
So I don't know how I'm going to forget about this commercial holiday to be honest. I turned down going to Monster Jam in Worcester with Steve-o because it'd have to be completely sober since he has work the next day, lives in Boston, I couldn't crash at Jess' place since she'll obviously be having a real V-day with her husband, and frankly, I can't fathom enjoying Monster Jam without being totally shitfaced. Probably play a lot of poker unless it gets depressing fast, lift, and finish off two bottles of Pinot by myself watching something on streaming Netflix. Oh well, it can't be anywhere near as depressing as 2000(2001 maybe), when I fawned over Andrea Jorgensen for way too long, got her some really lame talking bear, then later saw her making out (it might have been faux-making out, since Steve Pierce did that a lot) in the hall, or just embarrassing like 2006 when I drove out to the middle of nowhere for a first date with this girl, brought her mums since I thought roses were cliche but didn't know mums were funeral flowers (foreshadowing FTW), and chose out of her craptacular movie collection to watch Freddy Got Fingered, since it is one of my favorite "awful" movies and she claimed to have loved Tom Green but was immediately turned off by it and me.
Well, I desires to write something more insightful but better than nadda. We'll see what comes out when I'm buzzed later. Toodles.