Needs More Beethoven

"On pot you get paranoid and hungry, and on coke you get addicted to more coke and talk about how much you love socks for 45 minutes straight. On heroin, you are only one thing: boring. That's how you are to other people who are not on heroin. The only people who will tolerate you are the other junkies you are forcing yourself to hang out with. Eventually, I get to the point where I just surrender to being a total fuckup, but there are a lot of more boring entries on how I want to be a nice person and how great cardboard is."

-Dear Diary by Lesley Arfin (p. 180)

I have a dreamsicle. No, wait a minute that didn't come out right. Let's back up a second there. I have a dream and this kind of thing tends to come out when I see my beloved Chicago Bears get their asses handed to them by the Dallas Cowboys. An awful quarterback and tired defense allows my mind to wander.

Tomorrow, I start work. For me to get into a mental state, I have to think about the rewards over the doing actual work part thingee. No one enjoys putting in 4 to 8 hours unless you are either a Playboy photographer or the models' pubic hair groomer. He's the guy with the teeny tiny comb. Yes, those types of people exist. What I do is dream about the life I'm inching towards that I never thought I'd see. Hell, I don't even know why a girl can fall in love with me and stay that way for over 2 years.

As we all know, there is a good chance I will move to Indiana. My mom, even if I still worry about her and that cancer issue, has said that she's fine with that being a possibility. Kick the boy to the curb, yes, she must. I've only been waiting for that little kickstart to get me going and it all started with a conversation in the shower with Sara. Some of our best talks end up happening there because being completely naked makes you mentally vulnerable. Either that or when Sara slams me up against the wall to be 'searched' it's time to learn allow this new feeling of being vulnerable like I'm a gangbanger in South Central. I doubt the L.A. PD tickles like that, though.

What I want is the relaxed atmosphere. No going out getting drunk. Sara and I drink but nothing along the lines of being 'wasted' like all those wacky college kids write in their blogs these days. You'll walk into my living room and there will be an enormous lcd monitor to watch movies or play a few games when stress is needed to go bye-bye. I'm a bit on the neat side so you'll find pretty much everything in its place. I'd certainly like to bring back that old vibe Sara's gang had when we did the Beer Trek events of watching Star Trek while.....what else? Drinking beer. I've noticed that everyone misses that even if it got a little too big for the rented college house that year.

The funny thing is that after all those years with Bald-O, I'd forgotten what it was like to have just 1 or 2 beers instead of going on and on til slurring starts. Don't you just love it when 2 grown men talk really really loud as the night goes on only to find that communication just isn't possible when one talks deep southern and the other is staring up at the ceiling wondering if the crack moved?

Sara has a few sets of friends here and there that I see when I'm in town. I like 'em so I've got this comfort factor that works. We're all pretty much geeks inside, seeing as most have reading material in the bathroom that consists of video game mags and Star Trek stuff. Not my kind of thing so someone has to got to bring out the Entertainment Weeklys and Playboys. Why not? Ever read the interviews in Playboy? Far deeper than what we get in the other choices unless the person being interviewed is a rapper. Only 50-Cent can get me that steamed at how ignorant he was in what he had to say on hating gays all while still hiding the fact that his mother was bisexual.

Yeah, I'm kind of thrown by how I dream of the future. I'm not for living with Sara since we still have to see if this thing we've got going is still chugging along. To think I'll be able to own a house in 2 years really freaks me the fuck out. Wealth is nice but I'd rather feel like I'm content for once.

As I've said over and over, the nicest time is to curl up on a large comfy couch with a girl after a day spent at work and then in the gym. I wonder how far I'll go there as well. Will I still hit the place hard or will I fade out? My friends say I'm far too vain to just give up. Sara loves to see me naked all while playfully laughing at the comparisons in our bodytypes. She's got the brains while I have the tits. Ever seen a guy completely engulf a girl with his arms? Plus, I've got Sara running her heart out. Seeing how I love a girl that puts her health into perspective instead of just sitting on her ass, score!

A lot of money to save up. A lot of wondering if these dreams will happen. A lot of changes that have to begin somewhere. First comes a digital camera, then the lcd HD TV, and then it's onto saving up big. No more fucking around. My comic collection to be sold next year will help start this as well. At first, I was playing around with using that to plan a trip to Paris with Sara. I'm thinking all over the place and it won't stop. Only trouble is is that New York is definite and even involves us getting tattoos. More on that later.

Something happened to me in the gym today that had me thinking like this. A mirror was in front of me as I worked on my lower back to end my workout. What I was doing was, while my legs were stable, bending over and raising up constantly in repetitions of 13. Not easy when you weigh 200 pounds at only 5'10. The look I was getting was completely off because my face was nothing but complete anger. Something's been building up in me and this wasn't me seeing myself in that mirror.

Reading a bit of Dear Diary put things in perspective. You know me. I get a kick out of reading people that see the horrible events as something worth sharing because our past always teaches us. Well, I should know because, like you, I've had embarassing moments up the wazoo. Only I didn't get involved with heroin as Lesley Arfin did. Brave book in taking the time to publish her diary all while going back and interviewing the people responsible for how she felt at that time.

I'm trying to think I'm not so worthless. My addiction to the gym is so odd in how it can control my attitude towards myself. No endorphins clouding my brain and I'm on the hunt for some kind of fix where my mind is on something I'd like. Leaving. It's weird how I was once so scared of the unknown that all those times spent with Sara and her parents have me much calmer. Plus, I really like that Cold Stone ice cream place when they put waffle cone sprinkleys in my order of birthday cake ice cream. Happy twats all around.