Have blog will travel

10 random things about me:
10.  I was born in Chicago but consider San Diego, where I've spent my most formative years, to be my hometown.
9.  I have a scar above my left eye (very Luke Perry) from my sister hitting me with a plastic boat orr.
8.  I talk to myself constantly because my thoughts don't register unless I say them out loud.
7.  My eyebrows and eye-lashes have been singed in the past (freak Barbeque accident, also my sister's fault).
6.  I used to want to be a rock star before realizing that I couldn't play guitar well enough considering the years I'd been playing.
5.  I love baseball like it was one of my children (of which I have none). 
4.  I've made it a point to be brutally honest as often as possible to avoid future regrets.
3.  I'm frustrated with the ladies and it's not my fault, this time.
2.  I'm a romantic thru and thru but I'm also very practical/logical.
1.  I eat large quantities of cheese and bread cause they taste good (Fuck Atkins).

9 places I've been to: 
9.  Las Vegas
8.  San Felipe
7.  Orlando
6.  Chicago
5.  Los Angeles
4.  San Bernardino
3.  Tecate
2.  Tijuana
1.  Burbank

8 things to do before I die: 
8.  Direct a movie
7.  Find love
6.  Make and/or adopt kids
5.  Leave an indeliable legacy
4.  Pass on what I've learned/My philosophies
3.  Visit somewhere outside of the United States
2.  Learn to fully understand and speak Spanish
1.  Visit every Major League Baseball Stadium

7 ways for a girl to win my heart:
7.  Speak your mind
6.  Be smart
5.  Be funny
4.  Be confident
3.  Make me feel the previous 3 (4 thru 6)
2.  Have a great laugh
1.  Meet me half-way (Effort-wise, Affection-wise, and Attention-wise)

6 things I believe in:
6.  Conspiracies
5.  Love
4.  Evolution
3.  Murphy's Law
2.  Separation of Church and State (and MySpace for that matter)
1.  Chaos theory

5 things I'm afraid of:
5.  Crawling in a narrow tunnel, cave, or tube and getting stuck
4.  High places with low guard rails
3.  Dying before accomplishing anything
2.  The ignorance of the masses
1.  Not being able to see (i.e. darkness, dirty water, etc.)

4 of my favorite things in my bedroom:
4.  My collection of objects won from crane machines
3.  My Kung Fu Hamster
2.  My sword (you read right)
1.  My Mark McGwire batting practice homerun baseballs (1 caught, 1 grabbed off floor)

3 things I do everyday:
3.  Look at my phone, even if no one's calling or texting
2.  Watch TV/Movies
1.  Think

2 things I think about constantly:
2.  Girlies (that seems creepy but usually it's not)
1.  The Why's and Wherefores of our existence

1 person I want to see right now:
1.  For the first time in a long time: Nobody.

There's always room for blog...

Hey kiddies, quick update on the events of this week and last weekend.

Last Saturday: I went to a party at my friend Jamie's house.  It was pretty awesome.  They had a DJ, there were hot chicks, Butch drank a lot, Butch danced a lot, Butch wore a parrot hat, yadda yadda yadda, a girl who looked just like actress Jena Malone (see Donnie Darko, Saved, Cheaters, Stepmom) smacked me really hard on the ass as I was unlocking my car door.  I told you it was awesome.

This week: On Monday, I went down to Southwestern to try to crash the summer school audio class.  Failure.  I guess I'll have to relax all summer.  Later that day, I played softball.  I made two errors in the outfield (oddly to the same batter) that cost our team 3 runs.  However, at the plate, I drove in 2 runs and scored 2 runs, so the way I see it, I came out at plus 1. 

Tuesday, I went and bought supplies for the 1st Annual Rick James Memorial Summer Jam (are you gonna be there?).  That'll be good-times.  At Smart and Final, one of the cashiers was a girl I had a crush on in high school (the many, the unknowing).  I saw her looking at me like, "Hey, I know that dude."  I made sure to go to her register but I didn't really say anything of value.  She wasn't wearing a wedding ring, which is good and contrary to what I had heard thru the proverbial grapevine, but none-the-less I blew that conversational opportunity.  Oh well.  Hey, she could've smacked me on the ass as I was unlocking my car door too!  Must I do everything?

Wednesday, I went to Costco for more supplies.  Then I sat around and watched baseball. 

Today, I must go get a haircut.  Why?  Cause I said so.  No, seriously, I like my hair short because it makes my head look smaller.  My dome= gi-normous.  I have a large mellon (and that's not all ladies, my feet are big too).  Later, I will play softball of the coed variety for the last time this season.  I promise I'll play hard for all you kiddies.

Medical Update: Shin splints suck ass.  Oh yeah.

Put this in your blog and smoke it!

The previous blogs(see I blog, therefore I am & Every cowboy sings a sad sad blog) have led me to my current rant:

Ladies, Babies, and Hotties with Boddies let me tell you something:

Just say No!  I'm not talking about drugs here (though, by all means, drop the pipe, it's not attractive).  What I mean is, when a guy asks you out or asks for your number, and you're not interested, just say no. 

"Why," you ask.

Because guys can take it.  Add to that it's fucking honest.  I respect a girl who's honest more than a girl who's afraid to speak her mind.  No isn't mean.  No is direct, it's life-affirming, and it's an end.  It doesn't lead a guy on.  There's nothing worse than thinking someone's interested and finding out through their actions that they're more than likely not. 

You make the effort, she doesn't.  You call, she doesn't call back.  This all could be avoided if no had been established.  Lines are drawn and that's okay.  There's still a chance for friendship even.  You can't respect someone who says one thing and does another, right?  That's what happens if you feel no but don't say it.

Hearts will not be broken with no.  Time and energy will not be wasted.  If a guy at a bar approaches you and you say no, he's not crushed because he hasn't had time to build any sort of emotional connection to you.  You say yes but don't mean it, that connection starts and grows; the speed at which is dependent on the guy.  He may take it in stride or he might get clingy.  Because you said yes, you gotta deal with that risk.  The potential for hurt grows. 

Ladies, the feminist movement has left you with great power when it comes to relationships.  Use it wisely and be responsible.  People could get hurt.  Some might say that it's worse than physical pain.  Some might be right.  Oh yeah.

Every cowboy sings a sad sad blog...

Update on situation with girl from Islands (see I blog, therefore I am).

I called her the Friday before Memorial Day and got her voicemail.  She was probably working.  I left a message with my number.

I wait.

I juggle with whether or not to call again on Memorial Day.

I wait.

I call the day after Memorial Day around 12:30 pm-ish.  She answers, we have a brief exchange and she seems happy to hear from me.  It sounds like she may be at work, so I ask if she's busy.  She says she's on the other line with her dad and asks if she can call me back in 20 minutes.  I say sure.

I wait.

I go play softball.

I call her again at 10:30 after having heard nothing.  I suspect that maybe because of the call waiting my number didn't get stored on her phone.  She answers and again we have a brief exchange.  She apologizes for not calling me back and says her phone said "Private Number".  It's weird but plausible.  Suddenly, a guy yells from the background.  Not good.  He says something like, "Come back to the party."  We continue to talk somewhat menially about nothing in particular.  The background noise gets a little rowdier.  She asks if she can call me back because her friends are giving her shit and she doesn't want to be rude.  I say okay and give her my phone number.

Haven't heard from her since.

Every rose has it's blog...

Unfortunate news kiddies.  It's not concerning my love life this time, I think.  No, it's about my book learnin'.  I did a degree audit online and it turns out I'm more behind than that thing J.Lo is sporting.  I need to take 36 units in two semesters, just to graduate in 5 years. 

This all is the result of a 4 year long miscalculation of how many classes I needed to take per semester to be on track (I suck at math).  Add to that how hard it's been to get into the classes I've needed and the bullshit filler courses I took in their place just to fill 12 units.

Solution (sort of):  I must go to summer school.  I know, it's a great time to decide this as most classes have already started.  Luckily, I found that the 121 Basic Audio class equivalent at Southwestern starts June 20th.  Bad news:  It's being taught by none other than J. Henry.  I know, I know, please keep your applause to a minimum.  It's my only real option at this point and unfortunately I just need the credit and not the learning experience so he'll have to do.  Also add I lose a day of work for this class which equals less dinero para el gringo.  Fuckity fuck fuck!

This is all aside from the fact that I'm gonna have to retake the WPA (Writing Proficiency Assessment) as I'll have no time to take RWS 305W and I may even have to go to Summer school after I graduate to take Film Classics, which is lovely.  It's fucked up.  Last time I took the WPA I got a movie question and still missed by one point.  How do I top that?  What's that?  No, I can't bring copy of one of my blogs. 

School, such bullshit.  Oh yeah.

I blog, therefore I am.

I’ve gotta stop using the word blog in my subjects.  Well kiddies, I’m gonna try to get you up to speed with what has been going on since I last blogged.  It’s been an eventful 2 weeks and I’ll do my best to go in order.  Here goes:

The last Wednesday of the semester, my family and I went to Islands in Eastlaketo celebrate my Mom’s promotion (Supervisor. Who’s the man?  My Mom is!).  I walk in and I see this really pretty girl standing behind the hostess counter.  I immediately smile brightly as I always do in such situations.  She smiles back and the eye contact between us is apparent.  What do I do?  Do I ask her out? Even my parents see the connection.  I decide to ask her if I can give her my number.  I think it’s classy but let me know if I’m wrong.  Our meal ends and I make for the bathroom in hopes I’ll run into her on the way out (and to be sure I don't have anything in my teeth).  No sign of her when I get out of el bano and my parents are gone, so I gotta leave.  Ahh, regret, I know you well.

So onto the weekend.  I go to my sister’s graduation party (9 years to be a teacher?).  She’s all sorts of hammered.  People are constantly coming up and talking to me and people are chanting my name at one point; it’s as if it’s my party (next year, hopefully).  There comes a point where I’m all alone (outside of the bathroom) and my cousin’s friend is sitting on the couch nearby.  I’m looking down at my aunt’s crystal figurines that look like Polar bears taking a shit, when I hear, “This is gonna sound forward…”

I already know that my cousin’s friend likes me, so I kind of know what’s coming.  But you still couldn’t expect it. 

She asks me out, in so many words, and I am speechless.  Those of you that know me know this is rare (both the speechlessness and girls asking me out).  I begin to admire the balls it took for her to say that and the fact that she took the only opportunity that she had because I am uberpopular.  So I agree, eventually.  We talk a few times on the phone and this girl is a real sweetheart.  I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what the hell to do on a date with an 18 year old that lives in Oceanside.

And then comes the answer, she’s only 17.  Who’d have thunk a Winger lyric would actually be relevant?  My cousin’s 18 and this girl’s out of high school, so I assumed she was at least 18.  We all know what assumptions make us.  I thought for a while and decided I had to break it off (SO not dirty).  She took it well.  Very surprised.

Anywhoo, I grab my friend Butch (not literally) and head back to Islands(literally).  I ask to sit in the previous girl’s section and thankfully she is working. Butch and I stumble through our meal as I try to be witty and charming (to the waitress, not Butch, sorry buddy).  I pull that off.  We get toward the end of the meal and Butch says suddenly, “I’m going to the bathroom, put your big-boy clothes on,” and he leaves.  While he’s gone, she passes by for a flash of a second as I try to ready myself.  And wouldn’t you know it, she doesn’t pass by again.  Butch gets back and I try to regroup.  It comes time for the check.  Butch agrees to leave again as I know she’ll be back to give me the change for the meal.  I wait.  She passes by and essentially drops the change and continues on.  She seemed busy.  Regret creeps up again but I shout, “No, sir, not this time,” in my head of course.  I wait.  This whole thing is going on 10 to 15 minutes now. 

I catch her as she passes by again and I say, “You probably don’t remember me but I was here last week.  And one of the reasons I came back, besides the food (joke!), is because I thought you were really pretty.”

“Aww, thank you,” she says.  (Got her!  No, I was being sincere.)

“And I was wondering if I could give you my phone number?”  I continue.

“Wait, where were you sitting [last time]?” She asks.

“Over there,” I point.

“Were you really drunk?” She asks to my huh?

“No, I was here with my family,” I reply.  Clearly we are strangers.

“Oh, I just remember a bunch of drunk guys last week but you didn’t look like them.  (Pause)  So, you want my number?” She says.

(Brief Pause)

(Snapping out of it) “Yeah, sure, yeah.” I snappedly respond.  So she writes her number on the back of the check (I have proof!).  It was awesome.  Needless to say I tipped well (I always do).  I danced the jig several times that night and I’ll tell you why; I’ve never done that before.  I’ve always known a girl for a while (sometimes too long) before I make any sort of move.  It’s a simple fear of rejection dating back to March of 1995.  Thanks again, Marissa!  It was an awesome day though.  If nothing else, a major step forward for me.  I promise to blog again and let y’all know how things go.  Oh yeah.