Your usual unusually expected unscheduled random entry.
This weather is outstanding. It's like a breathe of intoxicating air into my frozen lungs. I'm so damn pumped about it, I feel better about life when it's warm out. It's also really nice to be coming into the Spring not depressed, because I think this is the first time I haven't relied on the weather to make me okay. It's been great. I've been playing ridiculous amounts of basketball, and my body is screaming profanities at me whenever I urge it to mobilize. Well body, to you I say, "Would you rather sit in this computer chair, and rot into a blob of disgust?" That's what I thought... bitch.
Anyways, I drank a lot last week. And I enjoyed every fucking second of it. Had a really good time, it was like 219 East Pleasantapalooza. A jolly good 'un at that. I'm also feelin' really happy for George right now, and I don't wanna blow up his spot - so I won't. I'll just say, the kid finally caught a fucking break, and that makes me happy. Score one for the fucking good guys. I'm looking forward to a lot of things. More great weather, a great summer of NSP with a bunch of kick ass new people to get to know, more long conversations and coffee at the Route 9 diner, more drinkin' with people that I love and care about, moving into 219 East Plizzy, Glenn being here next year... so many great things coming in the future. I've decided that I'm not gonna worry about fucking school work, it's overrated, I haven't learned anything really from my academics here in the past 4 years. It's all about experience my friends, and I do that outside the classroom. That's what makes me happy, that's where I've exceled, that's where I'm proud. Things work out for me, because I make them work out - and I know it... got to keep this mindset going for as long as possible.
I recommend that you download the new album from "The Streets". It's this British guy who does like spoken word, poetry, sorta rappish stuff over really awesome beats. It's extremely different, and it's really outstanding stuff. My buddy Eric showed me to it, I believe it is much like the promise land - where CDs rain down from the sky like glorious holy mana. You should check it.
I miss my family. Weird. I never miss my family.
And, per usual - what would a Tom entry be without a little bit of lamenting about my current relationship status?
GUESS.
Yep, still alone. But, it doesn't really bother me so much anymore I guess. I'm sort of getting used to it. I've met a few girls that I've actually been attracted to, which hasn't happenned in a long friggin' time... well I guess it has, but for whatever reason they really haven't been "realistic" attractions - meaning they wouldn't work out without some serious damage to outer psychological regions of the cranium jello, or the sacreligious burning of well-founded personal relationships already having been bridged. Not that I have even the slighest testicular fortitude to converse with the attractive young maidens, testicular fortitude for those of you who aren't interested in thougth while LJing, means... I don't have the fucking balls to strike up a conversation with anyone I find myself attracted to. Why? Because, basically - and I know this sounds, how should I put, most muddling, because well, I'm a talkative guy, and some have gone so far out onto the figurative "branch" to say that I may even be a humorous chap. Alas, when I attempt to use these wonderful vocal cords that I have been naturally selected to use for the purposes of communication - well, they seem to incomprehensibly fail me... I do not however blame them, because as I said earlier I believe it is all attributed to the lack of fortitude produced by my very own personal gene spreaders. I find myself in contempt of my usually quite witty self.
I cannot maintain intelligent conversation beyond simple introductions, because I feel like I am "forcing" conversation - because inevitably, my old ghosts, or should I say my omnipresent demons that preach a mantra that utterly deprives me of self confidence lurk in the midst of most every attempt of communication I attempt to maintain with said objects, and I mean that in the least male cheavanistic way possible, of attraction. I without a doubt lapse into a state of blithering moron incapable of intelligent, logical, and reasonably human linguistic communication. This is largely, because my vocabulary is, from the beginning of the conversation, most normally limited to the following words. 1. "So." 2. "Yeah." 3. "Uh...." Not to mention that my ability to deal with uncomfortable silences is shall we say... painfully lacking.
I am, as you can see, yeah... ummm, so....
At a loss for words.
Anyways, I drank a lot last week. And I enjoyed every fucking second of it. Had a really good time, it was like 219 East Pleasantapalooza. A jolly good 'un at that. I'm also feelin' really happy for George right now, and I don't wanna blow up his spot - so I won't. I'll just say, the kid finally caught a fucking break, and that makes me happy. Score one for the fucking good guys. I'm looking forward to a lot of things. More great weather, a great summer of NSP with a bunch of kick ass new people to get to know, more long conversations and coffee at the Route 9 diner, more drinkin' with people that I love and care about, moving into 219 East Plizzy, Glenn being here next year... so many great things coming in the future. I've decided that I'm not gonna worry about fucking school work, it's overrated, I haven't learned anything really from my academics here in the past 4 years. It's all about experience my friends, and I do that outside the classroom. That's what makes me happy, that's where I've exceled, that's where I'm proud. Things work out for me, because I make them work out - and I know it... got to keep this mindset going for as long as possible.
I recommend that you download the new album from "The Streets". It's this British guy who does like spoken word, poetry, sorta rappish stuff over really awesome beats. It's extremely different, and it's really outstanding stuff. My buddy Eric showed me to it, I believe it is much like the promise land - where CDs rain down from the sky like glorious holy mana. You should check it.
I miss my family. Weird. I never miss my family.
And, per usual - what would a Tom entry be without a little bit of lamenting about my current relationship status?
GUESS.
Yep, still alone. But, it doesn't really bother me so much anymore I guess. I'm sort of getting used to it. I've met a few girls that I've actually been attracted to, which hasn't happenned in a long friggin' time... well I guess it has, but for whatever reason they really haven't been "realistic" attractions - meaning they wouldn't work out without some serious damage to outer psychological regions of the cranium jello, or the sacreligious burning of well-founded personal relationships already having been bridged. Not that I have even the slighest testicular fortitude to converse with the attractive young maidens, testicular fortitude for those of you who aren't interested in thougth while LJing, means... I don't have the fucking balls to strike up a conversation with anyone I find myself attracted to. Why? Because, basically - and I know this sounds, how should I put, most muddling, because well, I'm a talkative guy, and some have gone so far out onto the figurative "branch" to say that I may even be a humorous chap. Alas, when I attempt to use these wonderful vocal cords that I have been naturally selected to use for the purposes of communication - well, they seem to incomprehensibly fail me... I do not however blame them, because as I said earlier I believe it is all attributed to the lack of fortitude produced by my very own personal gene spreaders. I find myself in contempt of my usually quite witty self.
I cannot maintain intelligent conversation beyond simple introductions, because I feel like I am "forcing" conversation - because inevitably, my old ghosts, or should I say my omnipresent demons that preach a mantra that utterly deprives me of self confidence lurk in the midst of most every attempt of communication I attempt to maintain with said objects, and I mean that in the least male cheavanistic way possible, of attraction. I without a doubt lapse into a state of blithering moron incapable of intelligent, logical, and reasonably human linguistic communication. This is largely, because my vocabulary is, from the beginning of the conversation, most normally limited to the following words. 1. "So." 2. "Yeah." 3. "Uh...." Not to mention that my ability to deal with uncomfortable silences is shall we say... painfully lacking.
I am, as you can see, yeah... ummm, so....
At a loss for words.