WangNet

Stellar.. three sheriff cars out in front of my joint when I got home... wtf?! Crazy Cat Lady claims it might be a suicide or altercation in the building next to mine. Regardless I was able to slip inside and not be hassled. F'n-a.

I randomly donated to two different charities in the last month.

Brian Wood's charity, and now this Marissa Bunny charity for a child with infantile spasm.

What the hell has come over me? One for a widow and her unborn child in a crazy intense story of Brian taking the brunt of a car accident to save them, and this lil' kid's surgery to help to contain smaller seizures.

I say donate to both folks.

Why the hell are the new episodes of Venture Brothers not on freaking line. God damn it. Get with the picture! At least the Syfy channel *eventually* gets their episodes up. I mean sure.. I watched both Eureka and Warehouse 13's season finales up until the last ten minutes were ruined by phone calls I foolishly took. Grr..

Not fair!

A great Real World reunion post the gym tonight. I was mustering myself to head to the 'Box for some gin and I get a call from my buddy's girlfriend. Yup, 11pm phone calls like that are always fun. Someone drank fifteen beers, on top of his Xanex(sp?), made some minor cuts, and that all adds up to me heading over there. Mind you no violence threatened to his special lady friend just to himself.

After talking with a fairly sauced friend it comes down to a job he hates, a boss he loathes, resistance to finding a new job, not wanting to go to work tomorrow, feeling overwhelmed by having a kid on the way, and to top it off he has been chatting with (more like she has been chatting with him) that skeezy broad that triggered the five month hell of last year. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

He is resistant to change (some have called him epic lazy), he has potential, he is doing well for himself, is has an alcohol problem (yes the irony isn't lost that I was heading to the bar when I got the call tonight), and won't get help with the support of others. I am not even sure what the fuck that list was supposed to highlight. It's late. Is a seventy two hour lock up for observation the only way to make change happen? Outside of dealing with these catastrophic melt downs how can I push an adult into getting assistance? I mean right now his special lady friend is dealing with it like a trooper but eventually the center will fall out.

Ugh.. off to sleep.

MysteryNurse's text conversation went along the lines of this:
MN: "do you get lonely living alone?"
me: "Sometimes. Why?"
MN: "I don't know I'm feeling lonely today for the first time in a long time"
me: "Anything I can do to help?"
MN: "I'll probably sleep it off"

What the hell? That was it. I was going to press some innuendos, but by that point I couldn't be bothered. I would hate to rupture a 'gullbladder' incision.

On other notes, Warehouse 13's season finale was amazing with the exception I didn't hear Micca's letter to the crew because my cousin called me to verify this facebook fan page his wife made is working and to discuss the nature of how those pages work. Grrr..

New email from MysteryNurse... "Sorry it took so long to reply. I was really sick yesterday and actually went to the ER while I was at work. Turns out I have to have my gullbladder[sic] out. "

Ah.. what?

Two days and no contact from MysteryNurse... with prior history of one or two points of contact for a solid nine days this would indicate she has moved on. Such is the way of the crazy note ladies.

It was fun being back at the ol' high school in the middle of the afternoon. Good ol' Nate-dawg and I were kicking it for our thirty minutes. It's amusing how fast muscle memory emerges when navigating that parking lot, and the old high school slouch while sitting on the benches watching the traffic of kids wander the halls. Biga looks about the same.. Milo was taken aback to find me lounging around the old library - now new consoling office - and stopped to chat as he stalked off down the halls in his patented Milo-walk.

Nate and I chatted about the 8th grade DC trip, videogames he as been modding, some russian phrase he picked up, his girl friend out in Vermont, and that his classes seem okay.

Fun times.

After securing my evening free of MysteryNurse's texts I had to collapse a quick sketch of my new drawing down, hit the gym up (thus missing the first airing of the Season Finale ), and caught it on the second play. Wow. Clearly this is a 'real' show because the cast members kept referring to how "real" this is and emotional.

I had a feeling they would end great - Eric and Knight puked up ice cream and gummy bears (from some Creole Creamery in house challenge called the "The Tchoupitoulas Challenge"). Yes! More morning puking of liquidish ice cream and toppings!

Everyone one seemed to have some sort of closure be it with their radio internship, putting the finishing touches on a Habitat for Humanity house, or breaking up with boyfriends back at home. There was a under current that these wayward souls were reluctant to return to their broken lives they had a three month reprieve from. I am not sure if I have ever really heard a cast having this sort of loathing of taking "five steps back" into their normal lives sans the show.

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For all those waiting with baited breathe - allegedly this date with MysteryNurse will go down tonight. A minimal responses to texts occurred yesterday evening where it was determined Thursday night would be preferred, and I followed up with a response for times and locations... though I am unsure where she lives in relation to the suggestions. As of now I have heard no response, and am not really expecting one until the hour is closer. She probably frets about taking this leap from the digital to the real. Depending on how it pans out I am unsure if I am willing to reschedule... that or a flurry of 'show me your boobs or I kill a kitten' as suggested by my Lawyer.

Occasionally I get sucked into checking the revision history for some wiki page. In this case I was on starbucks, and kept scanning for 'revert edits to last version'. Wow.. there are some really damn funny things in there. It seems some individual, for about a day, kept attempting to insert themselves into the page as starbuck's biggest fan in Denver. Removed. Another about the founder like 'black cock'. Plenty of edits advertising for other companies or complaining about the coffee in general. Oh nifty - someone blanked the page.

I may have to pick up the series of books someone put together, about the Iraq War, only based on the wiki edits. Linky here.

Hell, even the wiki entry for "book" is defaced. I love it. Reverted edit "A book is an object used for hitting people when you are bored. It is also used for reading and throwing." Hmm.. even the simplest of edits "book = cock". Nice guys.

After a night of text exchanges - as we all know my favorite form of communication - with Mystery Girl I felt bad for my Lawyer. Serially? Lady I told you where I am and who I am with so step off and stop bugging me. I'll have to put a kibosh on more texts - I'll burn through my monthly stipend in no time. As it is, I got home from the 'Box and found no email (one was promised). This morning though I have said email - from 1am - and indeed three photos were dumped in there as well as these questions:

Sleep with Pamela Anderson or Lindsey Lohan?
Watch a football game or go to one?
Stay up late or wake up early?
Have sex or make love?
Take an airplane or drive?

.... and now I realized I need an f'n bbcode plug in so I can get the quote tags working. *sigh*.

No response to me drawing the sand for Wednesday night.

Oh, and a very haunted driving experience for us West-O'ers this morning. I was totally expecting Rage Infected '28 Days Later' folk to zip out, belch blood, and attempt to eat me while stuck in traffic.

Let's recap the last 48 hours:
Friday night.. work, Resident Evil:3d.. The 'Box until 2am.
Saturday... The 'Box at 11.30am with Pops for the Husker game.
Saturday afternoon... milled around and watched the new 'Broken Lizard movie'... Redbull kicks me in the butt, and I head to The 'Box for some drinks at 12am. Bus shows up, I police the crowd, and become mildly sickened by Katie telling her mom "I love you and I will call you in the morning".
I flee heading towards home to have Glimpet call me and advocate I go to Gabe's place.

I find the place with only one wrong turn and hang out, take shots, and drink beer.

At 4am I head home, again, and am blasting Sponge while slaloming the 156th from Q to Pacific. I realize my emotional illness due to scenes, I shall never be able to repeat, has passed and take joy in the fact I am the only person on the road. Life is calm and the metaphor is apparent.

I sigh as I get home to write this- what a fucking emotional roller-coaster my life is....

The night ends with AIJane playing Blink182's 'Miss you '. How fitting.

I had to pull these two paragraphs out of an email I just sent and preserve them here for sheer awesomeness.

"Have you determined you are having twins yet? I know that second one's been ducking the ultrasounds and is lurking behind a rock or in an attic like Helen Keller*. I would like to think it is more like an illegal immigrant crossing the border at night with US Predator Drones keeping watch. Gotta hide that heat signature!

Let that analogy play out in your head. I think it's worth a short story. Write it up! Stat. I would myself, but I am not sure if I am fully qualified nor the appropriate person to present a detailed story comparing your hidden twin child's evasion tactics in your wife's.. womb... to illegal Mexican Immigrants crossing the US borders with Predator Drones on the hunt for them."

*Clerks 2 reference.

This is getting on my nerves. MG indicates she has a few bands in mind, but when pressed for more she reneges and throws out the comment she has a wide variety of musical interests - as if that explains what "couple of bands [she] can't stand". I think she either hates one of my top ten bands, or really can't provide a deeper conversation. I should have removed my philosophical response and told her "The Beatles".

Let's follow a thread through an email chain from MG. Take each line as being ripped from an email, and the following lines are replies to said emails.

1. MG: What is your least favorite band/singer?

2. Me: Least favorite band and or singer? I really do not have an answer. I tend to dislike/hate large swaths of music, and sure - some bands are worse than the others but when it comes to the bottom of the barrel do I really care to ID the crabs scrabbling in the murk? Not so much.

3. MG: There are a couple bands I can't stand..I respect them but that doesn't mean I like they're music. Nickelback is one of them.

4. Me: Respected? I get the nickleback - everyone hates them. Give me another.

5. MG: Besides nickelcrap, I can't think of any bands I can't stand...I have a very wide variety of musical interest..

I also find it mildly amusing she flat out ignores my response. I mean how does one read the shit I say and *NOT* want to pursue a more coherent answer? There have a been a few other cases of my outlandish responses are used to invoke a conversation and they are glossed over and ignore. I know a few people at work that do that - if they do not understand a statement or paragraph they refuse to acknowledge it - that or their brains just put a large white spot on that part of their visual inputs, thus protecting the fragile pudding chilling in their skulls.

Ugh.

I had a good laugh Wednesday night when my buddy-o-pal Anna called me up and said we should kick it for a drink. Sure.. I miss the last five minutes of the RealWorld, but I'll live not seeing Sahar kicking her drunky boyfriend's ass. Off to Office West I go.

Outside of the funny conversation two things are of note:
1. Anna had one drink and some how made it last four or five of mine. Ah.. what? I feel like a drunk when we infrequently meet up.
2. When asked by her boss to find "one or two cute girls" for some benefit she was able to whip out the ol' iPhone and I guess has a fucking Rolodex of hot broads and friends at her finger tips.

F'n 'l33t' skills. I swear.

Mystery Girl - MG for short - and I actually had a sit down phone talking yesterday night.. about an hour or so. I am unclear the topics covered, but it seems that I was the more chatty of the two. Mind you I would attempt to throw the conversation her way but things would become awkwardly slow... so I would have to prattle on as much as my gin soaked brains would allow.

Two funny quotes from a post talk email:
"You write so well you could be a writer...by the way..."

"And you're hiarious[sic] in a good way..like funny as hell and full of random facts, you could be a comedian."

Indeed. I pushed for a photograph (can I haz a pic plz?) and was amusingly rebuked with "you have seen me before :-P Just in passing but still...". Ahuh.. interesting gamble there.

On my Lawyer's advice I may have to be bust out the chatroulette comments... "pic of ur b00biez or I kill a kitteh!". Yes folks, I am that mature.

Thankfully Mystery Girl and I have moved to emailing. The whole 'not texting' dealio went over okay I guess. The emails are interesting, and we are trading them off daily. She works three, twelve hour shifts.. I am unclear when these are but okay.

The question/answer game is getting frustrating, but providing useful tid bits from the meta data collected. She works well giving 'non answers'... things like "What sort of music do you listen to?" and I get back "I listen to what I like"... mkay... that doesn't help. Book choices seem aligned to what I would have guessed... she digs concerts - even for bands she doesn't like because live music is fun.. odd... She has affirmed multiple times she is not a boring person..

*sigh* I don't know. I am shooting for some sort of "let's get coffee" and go from there.

About 10pm I get a response text. She wanted to trade texts because she's at work.. Ah.. okay.. limited texting plan but I told her I was off to bed... not a biggie. Now a few more texts coming in.. I am going to have to break it to her that I hate texting and only have a limited number on my plan. That should be an interesting curve ball.. I wonder how she'll interpret that. The game continues.

Ah.. so Ali I left you a message. I figured it would go to voicemail after a few rings - hell that's what I would have done for the thirty or so notes left in the rain on cars. I called, affirmed the car it was left on, my name, and extended an opportunity to meet up and chat.

Your move Mr. Bond...

I get out to my car this morning (super duper early... I am talking leaving my place at 7.17am early! [got to work at 7.55am]) and notice a piece of paper under my windshield wiper blade - passenger side. Greaaaaat I thought. What ass hat hit my car, stole my radio, or has some other complaint. I notice it's folded in half and still more or less intact from the rain last night. Carefully I separate it and lo-and-behold it's a note. From Ali the Nurse/Nursing Assistant/Medicalie person who drove the white SUV - sometimes parted at odd angles. It informs me she moved out, thinks I am cute, is unsure of my relationship status, and I should text or call her at a given number. Niiiiiiiice.

Here I was all set to texting that crazy broad, who has a family but didn't tell me at the time - thank you Myspace, for a lark but this might be more interesting.

I am a bit fuzzy on details for this Ali. We shall see.

God.. is it 9am already? It feels like I have been here forever!