Geriatrics
I'm probably going to end up regretting writing this entry because, for once, anything and everything that I could possibly write about includes other people. I hate writing actual journal entries about my cliche' "god-forsaken, drama-filled life", but damnit i'm going to have to expose a little bit of that just this once.
Monte Carlo Night
This is always a fun dance; people dress up, play cool, lose with money, dance without any room for jesus to squeeze through, and thump with Chingy in "Da Haliday Inn." I think i'm the only person that can take such wonderful circumstances and have an absolutely awful time. To start off, i went around the tables with Reinis, and later on found people that i knew. It was funny. A few months ago, Emily asked me if she could wear the dress i got her to Monte Carlo and I had no idea how to answer. What was i supposed to say?? No? Of course i couldn't do that, i mean, what right do I have to forcibly alter her clothing choice. After that little incident, where i answered very indirectly, in a sort of "How am i supposed to repond to that" manner, i still thought she'd wear something else. I mean, why even do something if you have to warn someone about it, assuming their feelings are at stake. The truth is, I could really care less about the dress. It just doesn't make sense to me that someone would go to such lengths to warn someone about hurting them or whatever. Well, to each their own. After a short while, i was tired of conversation, donuts, Mr. Mcmanus, Chingy, and groups of girls who wore the exact same slutty outfits; life bride's maids in a 1972 porno flic. Then there was Andrew, who was pimping it up on the dance floor with all the ladies. I think that's cool that he can keep up relationships and still exploit his love for dancing with girl after girl after girl after girl.
A Beached Whale
I was finally feeling a little bit better, as we were heading off to the beach, blasting some old school Harvey Danger and holding our breath in tunnels. But lo, i hit my brakes to stop at PCH and nothing happens. I hit the brakes even harder, and then have to resort to pumping like crazy to slow myself down. I started getting a little worried, but not too much, as i thought it was more of a one time fluke than anything else. The phone rings. "Hello?" It's ellen, who is trailing behind me.
"Do you have your parking brake on?"
"No...why"
"Your car is smelling... Like burning rubber"
"Fuck, I'm pulling over"
I ended up parking in front of an italian Deli right before we hit Zuma, called my parents, profilactically tried something that my dad said might help matters, and then found my car to be more of a time bomb on wheels than anything else. The moment i started the engine, everyone yelled "STOP!" They heard some crashing noise that i didn't. Shit. Now my car isn't working, i have 3 people i'm driving, my parents don't know i'm at the beach, and to make matters worse, i didn't take my full wallet, so my AAA card was at home. My parents were more supportive than i ever could have expected. I think they pitied me, but it got the job done. I just left my car parked there for the rest of the night, and went to the beach with everyone else in Ellen's car. When we got there, i immediately took off my shoes and started galavanting through the wet sand. Then, Andrew, Rob, and I started chasing eachother and throwing eachother into the sand. I got my Suit pants all dirty and realized that i filthy suit was probably the worst thing i could do in trying to keep my parents even-keel about the whole car thing. So, i did what anybody in my situation would do; i took off my pants. Now, this decision wasn't very popular (though i had bathing suit-like boxers on), as Andrew and Rob couldn't tackle me to the ground as i had helped do to them. A man without pants should not be tampered with. Then, while i was running through the high tide, Andrew went to the top of the lifeguard tower and started reciting Moses-like commandments in beach terms at the top of his lungs.
I'm guessing it's because of my jewish luck that had driven my Saturn to car heaven and my self esteem to the donut table that a lifeguard walked out to him and screamed "The beach is closed, damnit! BEAT IT" We were all surprised that it wasn't David Hasselhoff.
So, we drove to another beach, Point Dume i think. There, i saw a squirming mass about 75 feet away and ellen seemed to think it was a sleeping person. For some reason i thought it was like a beached dolphin. Thus, i walked really close, thinking i could help it in some way; in boxers and all. To my surprise, both I and Ellen were wrong. It wasn't a dolphin and it wasn't a person. It was two people in a grey blanket...squirming.
Seeing as i was on the top of my game, i kept walking, and eventually met up with everyone, finding little groups of people (couples mostly) wandering about the dark beach. A woman from texas started randomly talking to me about how she'd be punished for staying at the beach after closing, and all of a sudden a fat black labradore started running towards me. She told me it was Geriatric, and despite my better knowledge of the word as meaning elderly, i took it to mean "pregnant" (most likely due to the extreme obesity of the pup). After laughing heartily at the circumstances, i gave many futile attempts at peeing in the ocean, but every time i got close enough, a wave would hit me. Logistically, it didn't work very well, but damnit it was liberating. If only David Hasselhoff knew.
During the car ride home, the fact that my car was dead really hit home. I remembered how financially stressed my family is, and how my mom is having me wait a week before buying a new pair of shoes because some checks didn't come in. Now this. I realized right then that i probably wouldn't have a car for quite a while, and this depressed me completely. I loved the darkness of the evening, the silhouette of the waves, the stars, the sand, the elderly dog, and most of all the people. I realized right then that i do have friends. I do, but i barely ever exploit that. I barely ever see them because i become so goddamned introverted at times. Even through his Beer-drinking songs, I loved andrew. I loved Vanessa for her innocent giggles and fear of cold. I loved Rob for his sheer friendliness and compassion, and I loved Ellen for her calmness and kindness. These people may not be my closest friends at all times, but i was there, and they were with me. Just like usual, about two hours after taking the ephedra, i got a bad headache, and suffered through it all the way home. I had to explain to my mom why i wasn't wearing any pants when i walked in, and why having not eaten dinner left me feeling sick.
All in one night, i went from actually believing i could pull off the "Pimp Persona," to doubting my ability to pull off any true persona. But then i realized, maybe something as stupid as dropping my drawers was as important as any date or party. I needed to open myself up to the world after weeks of seclusion within myself. I needed to live a little.
Gabe
Monte Carlo Night
This is always a fun dance; people dress up, play cool, lose with money, dance without any room for jesus to squeeze through, and thump with Chingy in "Da Haliday Inn." I think i'm the only person that can take such wonderful circumstances and have an absolutely awful time. To start off, i went around the tables with Reinis, and later on found people that i knew. It was funny. A few months ago, Emily asked me if she could wear the dress i got her to Monte Carlo and I had no idea how to answer. What was i supposed to say?? No? Of course i couldn't do that, i mean, what right do I have to forcibly alter her clothing choice. After that little incident, where i answered very indirectly, in a sort of "How am i supposed to repond to that" manner, i still thought she'd wear something else. I mean, why even do something if you have to warn someone about it, assuming their feelings are at stake. The truth is, I could really care less about the dress. It just doesn't make sense to me that someone would go to such lengths to warn someone about hurting them or whatever. Well, to each their own. After a short while, i was tired of conversation, donuts, Mr. Mcmanus, Chingy, and groups of girls who wore the exact same slutty outfits; life bride's maids in a 1972 porno flic. Then there was Andrew, who was pimping it up on the dance floor with all the ladies. I think that's cool that he can keep up relationships and still exploit his love for dancing with girl after girl after girl after girl.
A Beached Whale
I was finally feeling a little bit better, as we were heading off to the beach, blasting some old school Harvey Danger and holding our breath in tunnels. But lo, i hit my brakes to stop at PCH and nothing happens. I hit the brakes even harder, and then have to resort to pumping like crazy to slow myself down. I started getting a little worried, but not too much, as i thought it was more of a one time fluke than anything else. The phone rings. "Hello?" It's ellen, who is trailing behind me.
"Do you have your parking brake on?"
"No...why"
"Your car is smelling... Like burning rubber"
"Fuck, I'm pulling over"
I ended up parking in front of an italian Deli right before we hit Zuma, called my parents, profilactically tried something that my dad said might help matters, and then found my car to be more of a time bomb on wheels than anything else. The moment i started the engine, everyone yelled "STOP!" They heard some crashing noise that i didn't. Shit. Now my car isn't working, i have 3 people i'm driving, my parents don't know i'm at the beach, and to make matters worse, i didn't take my full wallet, so my AAA card was at home. My parents were more supportive than i ever could have expected. I think they pitied me, but it got the job done. I just left my car parked there for the rest of the night, and went to the beach with everyone else in Ellen's car. When we got there, i immediately took off my shoes and started galavanting through the wet sand. Then, Andrew, Rob, and I started chasing eachother and throwing eachother into the sand. I got my Suit pants all dirty and realized that i filthy suit was probably the worst thing i could do in trying to keep my parents even-keel about the whole car thing. So, i did what anybody in my situation would do; i took off my pants. Now, this decision wasn't very popular (though i had bathing suit-like boxers on), as Andrew and Rob couldn't tackle me to the ground as i had helped do to them. A man without pants should not be tampered with. Then, while i was running through the high tide, Andrew went to the top of the lifeguard tower and started reciting Moses-like commandments in beach terms at the top of his lungs.
I'm guessing it's because of my jewish luck that had driven my Saturn to car heaven and my self esteem to the donut table that a lifeguard walked out to him and screamed "The beach is closed, damnit! BEAT IT" We were all surprised that it wasn't David Hasselhoff.
So, we drove to another beach, Point Dume i think. There, i saw a squirming mass about 75 feet away and ellen seemed to think it was a sleeping person. For some reason i thought it was like a beached dolphin. Thus, i walked really close, thinking i could help it in some way; in boxers and all. To my surprise, both I and Ellen were wrong. It wasn't a dolphin and it wasn't a person. It was two people in a grey blanket...squirming.
Seeing as i was on the top of my game, i kept walking, and eventually met up with everyone, finding little groups of people (couples mostly) wandering about the dark beach. A woman from texas started randomly talking to me about how she'd be punished for staying at the beach after closing, and all of a sudden a fat black labradore started running towards me. She told me it was Geriatric, and despite my better knowledge of the word as meaning elderly, i took it to mean "pregnant" (most likely due to the extreme obesity of the pup). After laughing heartily at the circumstances, i gave many futile attempts at peeing in the ocean, but every time i got close enough, a wave would hit me. Logistically, it didn't work very well, but damnit it was liberating. If only David Hasselhoff knew.
During the car ride home, the fact that my car was dead really hit home. I remembered how financially stressed my family is, and how my mom is having me wait a week before buying a new pair of shoes because some checks didn't come in. Now this. I realized right then that i probably wouldn't have a car for quite a while, and this depressed me completely. I loved the darkness of the evening, the silhouette of the waves, the stars, the sand, the elderly dog, and most of all the people. I realized right then that i do have friends. I do, but i barely ever exploit that. I barely ever see them because i become so goddamned introverted at times. Even through his Beer-drinking songs, I loved andrew. I loved Vanessa for her innocent giggles and fear of cold. I loved Rob for his sheer friendliness and compassion, and I loved Ellen for her calmness and kindness. These people may not be my closest friends at all times, but i was there, and they were with me. Just like usual, about two hours after taking the ephedra, i got a bad headache, and suffered through it all the way home. I had to explain to my mom why i wasn't wearing any pants when i walked in, and why having not eaten dinner left me feeling sick.
All in one night, i went from actually believing i could pull off the "Pimp Persona," to doubting my ability to pull off any true persona. But then i realized, maybe something as stupid as dropping my drawers was as important as any date or party. I needed to open myself up to the world after weeks of seclusion within myself. I needed to live a little.
Gabe