I sat on a funky smelling beanbag in the corner of a smoky room in strange house on an unknown street in a city I still can’t find on a map. “As much as you want to be noble and sacrifice yourself for her needs,” she said, pausing to take a drink from her beer and a drag from her cigarette, “you need to be true to yourself first and foremost because you’re real too.” If, right now, I got up and walked to a mirror, I’d still be able to see the bruise on my ribs that she left from poking me for emphasis.

It was most definitely some of the most venerated advice I’ve ever received, though. Too bad I had no idea what she was talking about – I had never even seen her before she flopped down on the beanbag next to mine mere seconds ago.

Drunk-girl hiccupped then and spilt some of her beer on the beanbag before her head lolled back into what appeared to be a loss of consciousness. After a second or two, she snapped back into existence and turned to me with a very serious expression on her face. “I really like you, Dave” Drunk-girl slurred while leaning over to snuggle her head down onto my shoulder and wrap and arm across me.

I made eye contact with my friend across the room. She was in front of the fire place talking to some guy in a pink shirt with a popped collar. I mouthed Help me! to her. She smiled, winked, and then turned her back on me.

At this point, I did what anyone in my situation would have done: slipped the beer can out of drunk-girl’s hand and drank it myself. What a night.

I have fake phone conversations with imaginary people while in public places.

While eating in the cafeteria, or sitting in class waiting for the professor to get there, I’ll pull out my phone and take a call from no one. The trick is trying to maintain a flow to the conversation but throw out activities and ideas that are going to catch the interest of someone sitting nearby. The game culminates by catching this person listening to me; usually either through making awkward eye contact with them and then saying to my phone “uh, I think I should probably just call you back later when people aren’t listening to me…” or by turning to a person I know is listening and say “who do you think should drive to the party tonight?” The latter, interestingly enough, is the type of conversation most people like to listen to: a discussion about where we’re going and what time we’re meeting/leaving and who’s going to be driving.

I popped my fake phone conversation cherry while I was at the subway on campus waiting in line to get some food. There was this girl in front of me that I half knew from a couple classes. She is rude and prissy and I don’t really like her. While we’re in line she was on her cell phone arguing with someone, likely a boyfriend, at nearly a yell. I didn’t want to listen to her talk on her phone about her relationship problems.

And she probably didn’t want to listen to me talk to my (fake) friend Jane about her latest (fake) bout of (fake) genital herpes, but I like to fight fire with a (fake) bigger fire.

in my mind i imagine change to be a lot like skydiving. i suppose that the hardest part of skydiving is getting out of the plane - it’s all down(hill?) after that. likewise, i imagine that the hardest part of initiating change in your life is to stop procrastinating and make the initial effort.

and i keep saying “eh. tomorrow is a good day to start ___________” and then when the time comes, i create a reason to put it off for another hour/day/week/month.

i’m too tired.
i don’t feel well.
i should go eat something.
i need to care care of some homework.
right after this hour of video games to unwind.
i’ll just watch this episode of Dexter and then i’ll take care of it.
i haven’t talked to [insert name here] in awhile; i should call them.
time to randomly drive around in my car consuming hours at a time.

if i wanted to fill this list out more, i’d just go on listing the things i do from the time i get up to the time i go to bed.

that i’m aware of my resistance hasn’t really helped me overcome it. that i’m writing about it probably won’t help me overcome it either, but when all else fails you go back to what you know.

Q: Who decides to stop courting a girl when he finds out she drives a H3 that her parents bought her for her 21st birthday?

A: Me

“You didn’t kill enough Indians to get to celebrate Thanksgiving, you fucking Canadian!”

Right now, I get to watch something fall apart.

It’s creepy in a way, but at the same time it’s kind of fascinating. While it’s sad knowing that something genuine is going to disappear, there’s something very real and very beautiful about the process.

And I am transfixed.

68; white on green

black with a red stripe

e=m*c^2

Dear Brian,

     Thanks for “lunch”. When you “come out east”, I will be “sure” to “buy you a drink”. I “bet” you didn’t know that I could “write” on your site. This is because I’m “sneaky”.  Better “luck” next time.

 Sincerely,

The Best Person Ever

P.S.

Brian — 45095

Kristen — 1

P.P.S.

It is a really good 1.