Well, it's Saturday night and I'm home alone...no surprise there, nor in the fact that I was home alone last night too. Oh well. I did get one call to do something, form my brother to go to the bar...I'd rather stay home than go to that piss hole on a Saturday night. In sticking around, I was able to clean my room: I threw out a bunch of crap. Filled up the garbage cans out back so that the other three apartments are going to have no choice but to suck on their trash. Whatever I mean by that.
I was going to say something moderately poetic or something about one thing or another but by the time I logged into blogger here, I forgot what it was. c'est la vie.
Oh yeah, a nice guy story...For whatever reason today on the internet I came upon a listing of drinking games. Checking the rules for Asshole I suddenly realized that the game wasn't foriegn to me. I'd played it bunches of time. Then I remembered why I hadn't played it recently: The last time(s) I played it was with a group of people that I worked with and two of the guys were sleazebags. Every time they became president and the girls were lower down the totem pole, they would command them (as is the power of president in asshole) to take off their clothes -- either partially or totally. At that point, I would come to power myself (being a fine card player in my own right) if only for the purpose of being able to tell them to put their clothes back on...I couldn't stand seeing them sitting there topless (well, the booby-viewing being nice, the degradation and objectification got on my nerves -- oh the pains of having a conscience more powerful than hormones!). Anyway, I really enjoy drunken card games, but for some reason they always turn out like that and I am then not invited anymore because I'm "no fun". Maybe that's why I'm home right now.
<<...next day edit...>>
OMG, maybe I am no fun. Maybe in my attempts to be a good boy I am too anal about bullshit. I mean, there's absolutely no problem with drunken nakedness amongst friends, just like there's nothing wrong with making out with near-total strangers or whatever. I mean, life's about fun and fun can sometimes be a little raunchy and even a little regretful, can't it? I think it can. That toplessness thing I wrote about last night shouldn't have bothered me unless the girls involved were uncomfortable with it (and they weren't...one of them had a penchant for just taking all her clothes in mixed company for kicks -- they both did nude modeling for a local photographer) and they weren't. If anything, I should have joined them. But then maybe the thought of that made me uncomfortable and that's why I wanted them to put their clothes back on. Or maybe I'm just too fucking tense about things. I don't know, like in high school, I didn't ask very many girls out on dates because I took the dating thing too seriously -- like thinking that dating someone was the first step towards a life spent together rather than just a few hours spent together getting to know someone else -- as seriously as someone that is now my age is expected to take dating. I don't know, sometimes I feel as though I skipped being sixteen and went from being fifteen to being thirty. I don't know how much of that had to do with my parents' divorce at that time or what (I did blame them for that for the remainder of my teens and some of my twenties), but it sucks that I feel like I missed out on the more adult end of my childhood innocence. Romping around is something I've never done and now it's past that time in my life when I could -- and even though my conscience would have always prevented me from taking things too far (i.e. using women for sex), a little less anal retentivity about things could have meant far fewer date nights spent at home back then, and maybe a little more social suaveness now that I'm 26.
I don't know, I wish I understood myself, because right now all I want is for someone to understand who I am and embrace that and I just don't think it's fair to be wanting/needing that without first being able to do so myself. I mean, I love myself, and that's a huge part of that reciprocity thing, but understanding yourself is important too. I guess, I don't know. It's eleven in the morning and I feel like getting drunk...
I was going to say something moderately poetic or something about one thing or another but by the time I logged into blogger here, I forgot what it was. c'est la vie.
Oh yeah, a nice guy story...For whatever reason today on the internet I came upon a listing of drinking games. Checking the rules for Asshole I suddenly realized that the game wasn't foriegn to me. I'd played it bunches of time. Then I remembered why I hadn't played it recently: The last time(s) I played it was with a group of people that I worked with and two of the guys were sleazebags. Every time they became president and the girls were lower down the totem pole, they would command them (as is the power of president in asshole) to take off their clothes -- either partially or totally. At that point, I would come to power myself (being a fine card player in my own right) if only for the purpose of being able to tell them to put their clothes back on...I couldn't stand seeing them sitting there topless (well, the booby-viewing being nice, the degradation and objectification got on my nerves -- oh the pains of having a conscience more powerful than hormones!). Anyway, I really enjoy drunken card games, but for some reason they always turn out like that and I am then not invited anymore because I'm "no fun". Maybe that's why I'm home right now.
<<...next day edit...>>
OMG, maybe I am no fun. Maybe in my attempts to be a good boy I am too anal about bullshit. I mean, there's absolutely no problem with drunken nakedness amongst friends, just like there's nothing wrong with making out with near-total strangers or whatever. I mean, life's about fun and fun can sometimes be a little raunchy and even a little regretful, can't it? I think it can. That toplessness thing I wrote about last night shouldn't have bothered me unless the girls involved were uncomfortable with it (and they weren't...one of them had a penchant for just taking all her clothes in mixed company for kicks -- they both did nude modeling for a local photographer) and they weren't. If anything, I should have joined them. But then maybe the thought of that made me uncomfortable and that's why I wanted them to put their clothes back on. Or maybe I'm just too fucking tense about things. I don't know, like in high school, I didn't ask very many girls out on dates because I took the dating thing too seriously -- like thinking that dating someone was the first step towards a life spent together rather than just a few hours spent together getting to know someone else -- as seriously as someone that is now my age is expected to take dating. I don't know, sometimes I feel as though I skipped being sixteen and went from being fifteen to being thirty. I don't know how much of that had to do with my parents' divorce at that time or what (I did blame them for that for the remainder of my teens and some of my twenties), but it sucks that I feel like I missed out on the more adult end of my childhood innocence. Romping around is something I've never done and now it's past that time in my life when I could -- and even though my conscience would have always prevented me from taking things too far (i.e. using women for sex), a little less anal retentivity about things could have meant far fewer date nights spent at home back then, and maybe a little more social suaveness now that I'm 26.
I don't know, I wish I understood myself, because right now all I want is for someone to understand who I am and embrace that and I just don't think it's fair to be wanting/needing that without first being able to do so myself. I mean, I love myself, and that's a huge part of that reciprocity thing, but understanding yourself is important too. I guess, I don't know. It's eleven in the morning and I feel like getting drunk...
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