Best Dubstep Ever

Hey Leslie, check out this enormous shark

They estimate 18 feet long.  Sleep well.

Best dance ever?

Nuit Blanche

Excellent.

Hey Leslie, remember when we talked about this?

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34482178/ns/health-skin_and_beauty/?gt=43001

Why am I so ahead of the times?  It's because time is an expanding sphere - not a line - and I am a 4th dimensional doughnut.

Hey Leslie, Good News

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1223001/Great-White-Shark-bitten-nearly-half-BIGGER-monster.html

Aren't you excited that a shark big enough to bite a 10 foot great white in half exists?

A Little Bit of Lemonade In Your Eye

I found recently that I was avoiding writing about Lemon.  I'm avoiding it because it feels like a trap.  It feels like I will think about it and realize that I'm choosing to make my entire life into some massive sisyphean task.  I'm pushing this boulder up a hill, proving with every push that I'm worth her and definitely better than any other guy that she knows.  However, once I get up to the top of this hill, I get drunk and ask her out in the least attractive way possible.  What I'm saying is that I'm not sure yet whether I'm cool to just be her friend for the rest of my life.  I have a feeling also that she tends to date guys who end up really fucking her over.  I mean, that's based on nothing other than intuition, but if it's true, that means that I'd have to stand by and watch while that happens.  That is hard.  It's like watching Erin date totally obviously crappy guys.  Gets old.  Especially when i'm better.  It makes me have to question myself, actually.  I don't like having to question myself anymore.  I thought that I was past that?  I thought that I knew who I was, and what that was worth. 

Why is friendship more valuable to some people than love?  Why do so many girl-types prefer my company in that platonic way only?  I suspect that I know the answer, but it makes me sad, so I prefer not to.

"And I saw Sisyphus at his endless task raising his prodigious stone with both his hands. With hands and feet he tried to roll it up to the top of the hill, but always, just before he could roll it over on to the other side, its weight would be too much for him, and the pitiless stone would come thundering down again on to the plain." - Homer

Recent Sexy Dream Participants UPDATE

Erin
Julee
Ashlee
and now introducing...Leslie!

Congratulations Leslie!

UPDATE:
I feel bad that I forgot to mention Terra, but Terra has definitely participated as well.

Just Asking For It

I'm now openly asking someone to direct me to either pursue or NOT pursue Ms. Julee once again. Give me what you got.

Leslie will like this

http://viewat.org/?hd=1&i=en&id_aut=34&id_pn=4704&md=sf&sec=pn

Lemon II

So, this girl, seriously. Alright? I mean, come on!!! This is like a 10,000 piece jigsaw puzzle that went through a house fire and then was doused by fire houses. Impossible to assemble. It is true that she seems to be open to hanging out often, although it is also true that I'm like her only friend in Phoenix other than her roommates, and even so, I may be the only native and, therefore a valuable asset in general. We DO get along preternaturally well, and she has admitted as much. She does outstanding and weird things like invite me to go camping with her and her family over the weekend in New Mexico. This seems like an obvious thing, but it becomes significantly less so when I mention that she also initially invited Louis (this happened when we three went to First Friday). I am worried about the things that are at risk here. I mean, if she ISN'T cool, and I spill guts, she'll never be able to be friends with me again, which I would hate. There are a few girls out there who can totally break your heart but then remain your friend. I don't know if she is one of these girls or not. When I first went to dinner with her and Marble and this other guy from training, she and Marble made a point of telling me how they hate it when they make a male friend, and that guy immediately thinks that they're interested, and gets all creepy with the texting and phone calling and stuff when they really just wanted to be his friend. I sort of took this as a warning. Co-workers tell me that this is overthinking it. I don't know. Opinions?

I'm cleaning out my garage

Parents bought me some plastic shelving, which is perfect. They are lightweight but heavy duty enough to hold hundreds upon hundreds of cd cases and old shirts and novelty underwear and whatever else is floating around my garage. It was important that they be lightweight so that they aren't a super bitch to move when our lease is up (my old shelving was super heavy chromed metal and it was awful to move).

I'm cleaning this garage up. It was already pretty bad, then Louis "cleaned" the house and basically just threw everything from the living room and main house randomly into the garage. So it was almost unbearably messy. Shit everywhere. I walked in and literally said, "Oh, my God. Shit everywhere. There's shit everywhere! Damnit! There's shit on the windows! Oh, my God! My house is full of shit! He shit everywhere! Look what he did! He shit all over the walls! There's shit everywhere!" Or something like that. I don't remember EXACTLY what I said. Whatever.

Anyways, so I'm cleaning that shit and finding crazy old stuff. Like pictures of me from back in the day. And of old friends. And other things. Old clothes. Magazines. Books. CDs. I miss some of my friends that I don't get to see much. I realize that there is a chance that I'll leave for Peace Corps while Leslie is off exploring the world in the way that she has chosen to do so. I found a picture of her from her prom when she wore a blue dress with black bow detail stuff and was very tan and Stevie sort of ruined the picture, but he didn't look all that bad honestly. I found pictures from Cancun of myself with my shirt off. I found pictures from Italy of me and Elizabeth and my hair looks like Anthony Kiedis' hair did a few years ago, although the picture predates that stage of his career. Prom pics with Julee and Co. Fun times. We looked good. That one picture that haunts me of me flexing in front of my dad's car after it was painted. To be back there. I hate not being able to stop looking backwards. Saying more than once that things will change is worse than never knowing that they need to in the first place.

Feeling kind of shitty

I'm organizing my co-workers I've decided. I just want some sort of severance plan or at least a two week notice built in to our contracts so that people aren't left stranded.

I want to get out of this place. Fucking Leslie. Fuck that guy, too. I can't remember his name.

None of my friends like RR. Or at least, none of my friends who have an opinion that I listen to like her. But fuck that, too, because she's fun to hang out with, even if she IS sort of ditzy and dumb and stuff. Maybe they don't believe me when I tell them that I hate sleeping alone or even being in my bed by myself (RR doesn't spend the night, so that still exists). My bed is cold.

It'd be nice if ANYthing were what it ought to be.

W T F and O M G

Let's start with OMG for Leslie:

From the Betty Beauty Bridal Division: http://www.bettybeauty.com/bridal.php
I think that blue is a beautiful color on you.

And now for the WTF:

This morning I woke up with a text from Roadrunner that said
"I was wondering whose number this is would you please text me back?"
So I texted and said
"This is Nathan, did I text you by accident?"
And she responds with
"oh good no you didnt. I needed to tell you something. I miss you and i have not been able to stop thinking about you since we broke up"

Blah blah blah, long story short, we're going out the weekend after this coming one. I'm not really planning anything either way. I'm just sort of curious to see what happens. Updates to come.

More and more

Some of my friends have postulated that I have an odd ability to befriend people who will need me in a significant way at some point. Some of my friends consider this a weakness. Some of my friend consider this a strength. Some of my friends probably don't think this is true anyways. I think that I do tend to meet people who are in hard places in life. Or maybe everyone has those hard places, and I just tend to be around when they go down. Whatever. The point is that I seem to always be called on during major crises. I've mentioned before that I love this about my life. It is kind of like being good at a really important job. I don't know, like being a food safety investigator who has never let an outbreak of E. Coli slip by on his watch or something. I mean, the other thing here is that people define crisis in different ways. For some, the crisis is simply whether or not to take a chance on loving someone unexpected. For others, it is whether they are going to be able to survive living with their parents any longer. For others still it is whether they will have a home and their daughter when they leave. I helped Terra move out of her mesa house and away from her raging husband. I packed up her uhaul. I drove to tucson to help unload it. I even slept there and tried to help console her. I tried to convince Heather that it was going to work out (it did). Et cetera et cetera. Et Set Terra. I wonder if it is that people who need me find me, or that people that I need find me. Or maybe that I'm just more aware of people who need help. I don't know. I think that it really comes down to whether I'm here for everyone else, or if they're here for me.

So here's the deal

Was drunk and with phone, so hilarity and destiny ensued.

Roadrunner got some lame dirty texting, which she thought was fun, so no problems. People and their guilt. Makes no sense. Just enjoy your life for a second or two. It's okay, Jesus won't damn you. Or maybe he will, in which case I apologize. My bad.

Secret Lover got the table and all that's on it, which is now everything.

Peace Corps application is officially submitted. Now I shiver with anxious energy for the entire next year, wondering if I'm man enough to do this. Expect a whole new slew of "will she wait?" songs based on SL probably, but don't tell RR that they aren't about her. It's casual, and it's okay that way. We're both invested. We're Jim and Karen, but Pam is still answering phones. Does that make sense? Yes, it does.

The new job starts on the 15th (a Monday). I will do a week or two of training here in Tempe, then may have to relocate to a battleground state until the end of the election. I'm super excited about this.

Leslie is going backpacking forever. I really want to do this, too. I was thinking that maybe when I get back from Peace Corps, if I still don't want to rejoin civilization, I could take the money they give me and go backpacking through Europe or something. I mean, I could also invest the money wisely, but that sucks and doesn't do anything except yield more money. Money is for fools. Or am I going to do that Masters program thing? I forget. Oh well.

Tonight

I'm playing tonight at 8pm.
Here's the setlist

Dm Instrumental Thing
Dirt & Water Salvation
Linoleum Floors
Oh, Leslie (By Adam)
Two Years From Now
Roadrunner (Give Her To Me)
I Wish That I Could See You Soon (By Herman Dune)

I wonder how long that'll be?

Miss Jen II

It's Thursday and I'm on my way down to the bike shop to work on the 1973 yellow Schwinn Super Sport that a customer had given us the week before. I had promised the bike to a cute girl that Adam, Jose, and I had met at Cartel the week before. I'm walking to the back of the store, through the double doors and into the thick air of the warehouse area where there is no air conditioning. Through the rows of metal hooks I see the faint lemonade paint and the post-it note with my name on it. It's heavier than I expect, and I emit a low grunt unexpectedly while lowering it to the ground. The cracked gum wall tires, void of air, slide along the dusty treated concrete as we push back through the double doors. Hospital doors. Operating room. A rebirth seems imminent, and excitement begins tugging gently.


I hoist her heavy skeleton into the grabbing arm. As I'm wiping down the steel frame, it occurs to me that this bike completely outlived its significance before I was even born. Ten years or more of existence prior to obsolescence, and twelve years prior to my own arrival. I work through the bike slowly, noting the good condition on its metal, and the surprisingly good mechanics. It needs just a little love for the wheels, and the headset has to be completely repacked. The once slick grease has turned now to gum and sticks hard. New tires. New tubes. New chain. Grease and oil all around. Finally it's coming to a close.


I'm scrolling through the contacts on my phone now, and the worry tugs at the back of my throat a little bit as I am not seeing "Jen" anywhere. I remember now, and I zip down to 'Ms Jen (bike)'. I hit SEND a little too soon. I haven't thought of what to say yet. She isn't answering. Four rings. There she is. The conversation stumbles, but it's hard not to come out on top. I tell her that I'll call when I leave my house to go to Adam's dinner party. I'll drop it off on the way. No problem. No, it's on the way. Okay, I'll call you. Bye.


She sounded so professional on the phone. "Is that the bike shop which is located upon the corner of Southern and the 101 freeway?" she asked. Not really, not so many words, but memory seems to be so.


I change my shirt and wash my face. I grab the blue tie which looks like a church window, and the short stack of vinyl that I'm taking to Adam's. The bike is three pieces, and already loaded in the back half of my car. I call her as I pull on to Margo and head towards University. I should have just taken Priest. I know exactly where she's describing. Broadway, just before the 101. There is limited parking, but there's always limited parking when you live across the street from a park. I drive past the house so that I can turn around and face the proper direction. She is in the open garage, but didn't see my drive by. I slide up to the curb and pop my trunk. She sounds excited when I pull the frame out and stand it upside down on the sidewalk. I slide the wheels in with expertise, but realize that maybe she needs a tutorial. I took for granted her knowledge when she told me that she was piecing together a bike at the co-op. But her question speaks to inexperience: "So when the wheel has that lever on it, that's known as a quick release?" I take the wheel back off and show her how to do it right. How to adjust the brakes with extreme prejudice if need be. I warn about the wet wet chain and its staining intentions. Enough business.

Ms Jen: "Are those tires new? I hope you didn't spend too much fixing it up. Can I pay you back for them?"
Me: "Nah, I get all the stuff wholesale, so it really isn't very much."
Ms Jen: "Well, I feel like I want to repay you. Can I take you out for coffee?"
Me: "Yeah, that'd be great. I'm always down for a cup."
-we talk about nothing in particular...she comes back to the point-
Ms Jen: "So next week sometime then?"
Me: "Yeah, how about...Tuuuuuuuesday night?"
Ms Jen: "Yeah, that should be fine."
Me: "What do you think? Dinner?"
Ms Jen: "Yeah, that'd be nice."
Me: "Okay, awesome then."
Ms Jen: "You're vegan, right?
Me: "Yeah...is that a problem?"
Ms Jen: "No! I'm really down with vegan food. I love the places around here."
Me: "Okay, great, we'll go somewhere awesome then."
Ms Jen: "Well so thanks so much again, this is so awesome."
Me: "You're welcome, but it really isn't that big of a deal."
Ms Jen: "Well, can I give you a hug at least?"
Me: "Of course!"
*hug*
-now normally, this would be the exit point, but unexpected nervousness is too exciting to leave alone-
Ms Jen: "This is so perfect. I'm moving, and I was really hoping to have a bike when I moved."
Me: "Why are you moving? This place looks pretty rad." (the yard is really nice, and the neighborhood, too)
Ms Jen: "Oh yeah, it's great, but I sort of have to. The family is expanding."
Me: "..."
Ms Jen: "I live with a family. She's a schoolteacher, and she is pregnant now, so they'll need to the room."
Me: "Oh, raw deal."
Ms Jen: "Well, the original plan was that I'd leave in July, and then my friends had this house in South Scottsdale sort of, so it all works out pretty well actually. And now I have a bike, so it's perfect."
Me: "Well, excellent...Anyways, I should probably be going now, I need to get to that dinner party"
Ms Jen: "Oh, okay...well, thank you again so much, seriously"
Me: "No worries."
-hug-
Me: "Okay, I'll call you next week."
Ms Jen: "Alright!"
Me: "Bye, have a good night."
Ms Jen: "Bye, have fun at your party."

I drove off then. She was wearing the long short things that Leslie wanted more of, and a green t-shirt. Her body is unlike my normal preference, but I am drawn to it. Healthy. Curves, I think. But it isn't just her body. Her skin is the color of summer, or culture, I'm not really sure. Her freckles are each deep abysses into which I fall endlessly. She seems legitimate and enthusiastic, maybe even excited, and that has shed onto me as well. I don't know why I fall so easily, but I don't really care either.

Stranger Dazier

I am sitting at a window. A girl who looks like Chelsea is outside playing with her daughter and husband. The small orange trees outside the window move slightly because of the wind, and the flowers move even more. I'm hot. Espresso hits me like a flaming brick, and I just had two shots in a very quick drink. I catch a draft every so often from someone opening a door behind me, and I think that I'm feeling what the trees feel. I've decided that I like the sound of wind through pine trees. It is a nonviolent brushing noise that is like a very large man walking heavily. Intimidating for no reason at all. The steam wand makes a good attempt at impression, and I have to wonder about the serendipity of things. I look at friends often and think, "How can they still not know who I am?" It occurs to me that Leslie does, which is odd. We don't see each other, and I always feel like I'm sort of bothering her at least a little bit, or like she has so many fun friends and I'm always too serious. At the same time though, I really do tell her things. Not that all of my friends have betrayed me (most have not), but I really believe her when she says that she won't tell anyone. Maybe it's because we don't have any overlapping circles; rays pointed in different directions. She is moving to Tucson. I am sad about this for no reason. I don't see her now, even though we live within ten or fifteen miles of each other. I hope that she does well where she's going. Maybe I like that she does what I feel like I cannot do. She moves through her world with blinders on. She is just running straight forward towards nothing at all, not letting heavy people slow her down. She is living largely for her own purposes, which she isn't even sure of. She goes to California. I feel like I'm tied down. Like if I leave, people will die. I am in the crowd on which she is being carried, maybe. If I am rooted in the ground, blowing straight up with all of my breath, she is the person that I'm keeping aloft. The roots are what worry me. They aren't my body. They are the invasive tendrils of beautiful dying things. Little orange trees stand up against gentle winds, but they are in the pots that I put them in. I'm constantly nailing metal hoops around wooden pots. I need to make metal pots for more trees.

Just Kill It Already

Is it ever appropriate to tell someone else to break up with their (in)significant other? I mean, if they are being beaten or abused, then duh, but I mean just based on the general trials of relationships. I mean, it is sort of arrogant to say, "I've heard one side of this story, and I can make a serious decision based on that." Also, it is foolish to say, "Well, because my similarly based relationship failed and needed to fail, I think that yours should, too." It's hard to tell someone that they should not be with who they are with, even if it seems so obvious to me. So I try not to. I try to lead the person to my own conclusion by laying out what it is that I see from the outside, since they are often blinded by the experience. However, I am aware that they will not always draw the same conclusion, as evidenced by the 30 different understandings obtained by the 30 different people all sitting in the same lecture. I'm not JUST talking about Ash or Adam here, but people in my life in general. Oh, I need to go to Body Positive. Later yo.