Later that night . . . . . . . . . . .

It turns out it didn't take that long for her to reject me. She just texted me and said she didn't want to hang out. But that's okay. From what I said in my last post, I wasn't that into her either. I guess it's better that she rejected me now before I spent all that money on a date. So, my loyal reader, I bid you goodnight as I let the pain of rejection float away on a cloud of smoke.

So I just told this new girl that I'm a virgin. Why do girls always seem to shrink away when I tell them that? Is virginity some weird STD that I don't know about? What am I supposed to lie when the subject comes up? Yeah I probably should have. I don't know. Maybe I'm so honest because I'd rather have girls reject me early before I have too many emotions invested in the relationship. Of course Colleen knew I was a virgin, knew what I looked like, and knew how I acted and she still like me. I rejected her because her calves were gross and she exaggerated a few facts so I thought she was a compulsive liar. Why oh why did I ever reject her. Now there was a girl that accepted me for me.

So I was on the phone with the latest online girl and she got a call from her ex and said goodbye. You know what, fuck it. I just talked on the phone for a few hours with this girl, it's not like we even went on a date. Of course we do have to go on the date, but that's merely a formality before she rejects me for being to fat, nervous, immature, whatever. Besides, from what I can tell she's a poor whore of a little girl. I don't know what I'm looking for, but maybe I won't find it online. Maybe I'll find it where I don't expect to. Or maybe I won't find it at all.

There is this line in a story that I read recently that felt almost prophetic when I read it: "He's going to be one of those sad, lonely old bachelors who is neither gay nor straight—just doesn't do sex at all."

What if that's me? What if I grow old and die alone without ever experiencing it? I think I'm just feeling rejected by this girl. I know I shouldn't care and I should be used to rejection by now, but still it's a bit painful. I know I don't feel like going to Salem tomorrow. We have nothing in common, and I already know that she won't like me. Why even bother? I'm sure she knows it too. Maybe she'll call and cancel tomorrow and I'll save some money on the date. Then she'll stop talking to me like all the other girls I've met from the Internet. That would be easier. Then I can spend the next two days floating on a cloud of smoke.

By the way, I'm feeling really low right now so any words of encouragement would help.

A dream:

I don't remember most of it, but I remember it having to do with my roommate dieing, only he wasn't my roommate it was the guy from Karate Kid I think, me and a couple of other people went somewhere regarding his death, but they wouldn't let me go with them to the funeral in Arizona because I assume I was annoying them somehow. Adn somehow the entire dream took place infront of the middle school that was across the street from my high school, which at some poit magically transformed into a cheap hollywood western set, except the set was in Newport on the highway down the road from the house my real father grew up in. So yeah, a weird dream.

SEX

Sex as a 22 year old virgin I have a bit of a unique perspective on it. Or rather no perspective at all. I remember as early as 8 or 9 I was looking at Playboy. It was fun, I always thought that someday I would have it, but as the years when on, I started to give up a little at time. Never mind, I thought tonight was the night for that post, but I guess it isn't. For what it's worth, I have a date with a girl from Craigs List on Saturday. She seems a bit eager to meet me. I'm afraid that the new picture on myspace is mis-leading. Jamie altered it so I would look attractive, but I'm not sure if I'm actually attractive or not. I know this girl seems to think I am, and I'd hate to disappoint. It's almost not woth the effort. I know what will happen. She'll see me and either she'll not be attracted to me, or I'll commit some social faux paux that will cause her to see me as the bumbling virgin that I am. Or she'll actually like me and I'll see some major flaw in her that makes it impossible for me to be with her. I know every girl that has ever been interested in me, fine maybe not, but I found flaw with the last girl that was interested in me. In my defense, she was a compulsive liar and morbidly obese. Of course I am too, so that shouldn't have made a difference. I guess that's the only example that I can think of when I pushed away a girl when she got too interested. Wait, there's the other example that I couldn't think of. Brina. Brina was weird though. She looked like an ostrage, she was 6 feet tall and religious. She was really interested in me, but I couldn't let her get too close. I didn't want to be her first. As it is, I think I was her first kiss, but that was after a bottle of Hennesy, so anybody looks attractive then. I don't know where I'm going with this, but my point is this: I think that I find flaws in girls when the get too interested, because I'm afraid to get into a relationship. It seems like a bitch thing to say, but what if I get hurt? They say it's better to loved and lost, etc, but what if it's not true. You know what it really is, it's not about getting my heart broken. I'm afraid that I'll suck the first time I finally do it. There is a story here that would make me think I'll suck when it finally happens, but if you want to hear it, send me an e-mail and I'll tell you. It's something that I've never written about and I'm kind of ashamed. Alas, that whole story is really embarrassing. But if you're interested, I'll tell you. So wish me luck on Saturday and remember Go Ducks!

So I'm sitting here bored, alone and high. Seems like a typical night for me, most of the time I can occupy my mind enough so that you know what, fuck it, I think I'm going to write some random story, I don't know what what will come out, but I've had the urge to write more than blogs lately. Maybe something was finally purged from me so that I've said all that there is to say about myself, so I don't have to write any more. Or maybe the reason I blog is because I'm looking for somebody out there to take notice of my life . Now that people have, I don't feel the urge to blog as much. Or maybe I'm high. I don't have a lot of good writing when I'm high, so I usually try to avoid it, but lately it's hard to find time when I'm lucid enough write. So yeah, I just drove an hour each way just to get weed. I didn't even stop to hang out with any of my friends there. Just there and back, I was back in an hour and a half with stops for gas and cigarettes. I don't know, it was fun I guess. I'm still fairly new at driving so going for a drive like that is still fun. But doesn't it seem like every time somebody gets into a car, they're taking a gamble with their own lives? It doesn't matter how safe a driver you are, there's always that chance that you're going die on the road. It scares the hell out of me, but in accepting that fact I'm coming closer to accepting death. At least as a discussable topic. It used to be that whenever the topic came up, I'm start having a panic attack. Even right now I feel my chest tightening. I know that overwhelming fear is just a thought away, but as long as I can keep writing, I might be able to distract myself from it. There it's going away now. It seems that my thought are rambling tonight, but it's covering a lot of different subjects so I think it might be good reading. It's weird, when I'm typing this I'm now imagining all these different people reading me. Like those two anonymous comments that I got on my post about quitting weed. Maybe more than my uncle and Jamie actually read this thing. Still, it's a personal thing. But I have the feeling I'm saying the same things other people are feeling, I'm just putting them to words. I don't think I've seen that done before, so who knows, maybe the right person will read this and want to pay me to write. Now that's the ultimate dream, to get paid to write. Writing is a lot of fun. This isn't work to me, writing was never work. Even when I was on the newspaper, writing was still fun. I loved working up against a deadline, I knew that if I pushed my brain hard enough it would come up with something that people would like to read. Here it's typing out my inner monologue. This must be getting boring to read, but I think I'll just type until there's nothing left to say. Ha ha, maybe that was the last thing I had to say. Oh, tonight I will be publishing half completed entries that were saved as drafts. I won't be editing them at all, so it's a lot of raw emotion. Am I just getting carried away here, do people actually like my writing? Or am I just so desperate to be good at something, that I really like my own writing even if it isn't any good? Ugh. Even after all that writing, I'm still sitting in an empty apartment getting high. How depressing is this? But I'll play some video games, and watch TV and eat of course, this will distract me at least until I go to tired to keep my eyes open. If I got to bed before I'm tired, it's a recipe for a panic attack. I lay there trying to get to sleep, and checking the clock every fifteen minutes, imagining how bad tomorrow will be if I don't get enough sleep. But anyway, I'll wake up tomorrow, smoke a bowl in bed and get up, watch more TV, play more video games and eat more. Then because I have Monday off this week too, I'll do the same thing on Monday. A work night is no different, I come home I get high, I watch TV, play video games and wander around the Internet in search of an end to the loneliness that is always simmering under the surface of my mind. People think I spend too much time with my family, but they are the only people that have to accept me being with them. With any group of people other than my family, I always wonder if I'm really wanted. I'm always so worried about over staying my welcome, that I never truly let myself go. I'm always too reserved, too polite for normal people my age. Of course I'm polite. Politeness and professionalism have become my defense mechanisms. When ever I get into a conflict, I switch to "customer service mode", I'm always apologetic and I invariable say, "I understand why you would feel that way". I think if I ever had the ability to stand up for myself, this job has killed it. Actually I don't I ever had that ability, I just found a job where lack of self confidence is a plus. So here is where I trail off into nothingness, I'm sure I could write for another half hour, but I think I'll spare you the pain.

So quitting lasted all of a day, all this build up and nothing. Same with loosing weight, I gained 5 pounds in the week that I was supposed to be loosing. But that's okay, I don't know why but it's okay. I know I should write more, but I don't feel like writing that much today. So I think I'll just go for a 2 minute free write, those are fun. So here it goes:

Here it goes, let's see what's on my mind. Not much really, I'm sitting here in an empty apartment watching Entourage and I'm having so much fun. There's purple penguins playing a piano in the corner as I walk into a bar enchanted by the rejects from Pan's Labyrinth. Red linguine is being served in the quarter mile buffet that resembles a trough more than a serving line. Ha ha, the random words of a bored mind. After that period of near lucidity I have once again fallen into the haze that is way too comfortable. I know it's not much, but I'll probably have a good post on Thursday. Holidays always bring out the worst in me.

Quitting: Day One

Marijuana, weed, cannabis, my blessing, my cure, the reason I wake up in the morning, the reason I work so hard all day, and the reason I only have three shirts and three pairs of pants. I've been coming to the slow realization that weed is controlling my life like it controlled my parents' life for the better part of 18 years. I'm not saying that weed is bad, because it's not. It's just taken control of my life for the past year or so. Now it's time to come out of my haze. But what am I coming out to? A stuck up, ex-jock of a roommate and his dirty whore of a girlfriend? A family to whom I'll be a perpetual failure until I knock up some bitch or at least get laid? I have no personal life, I really have no life at all. I don't have a hobby or a pet. I have nothing to occupy my time but smoking weed. Weed numbs it all, it makes it okay to be alone. It turns a day off sitting around the house with nothing to do except contemplate my loneliness into a pleasant haze that takes all of my emotional issues away with it on it's blue/gray clouds to heaven. It's been 22 hours since I took my last puff of weed and it's damned hard. I have a mild headache and the stress of work is still pushing hard on my shoulders. All I want to do is let my problems float away, but I can't. One I'm broke, two I can't do it any more. I don't want to quit, I don't ever want to quit. I don't yet see how quitting weed will get me a girlfriend, or even why I want a girlfriend any more. I just don't see how another person in my life will make life any better. Can sex really be that much better than self love (which is really just a bodily function at the point)? Is it really worth all the effort that I'm putting into it? At this point I just don't know. All I know that society tells me that's what I should be striving for, and maybe I should be, I'm sure it's more healthy than sitting around smoking weed. But it has such potential for hurt. When ever I look for love or lust even, I end up getting hurt. I haven't even had a crush since Job Corps. Well I guess A, but she's so unobtainable it's ridiculous. How can anybody ever love me when I carry this much emotional baggage and weigh 292.8 lbs? Which brings me to other thing that happened today. I'm joining a weight loss group at work (Jamie's idea, thank you!!) starting tomorrow. I'm sure I won't like it, but it's something to do. To close: yeah, I have issues with sex. I have a lot of issues with sex. I'm just not sure if this is the place to air them all. I know a lot of people read this, I'm not sure if I'm ready to be judged over my qualms with sex. I have plenty to say about it, I'm just waiting for someone to tell me it's okay to let it all out. Here's to day one. Thanks for reading.

Post number 200.

Wow, 200 times I've come to my blog out of boredom, desperation, or the mild relief that comes from believing that somebody cares. Now I'm come to my blog on just a normal day with my normal problems. Life is lonely, "cry about it bitch" is what I secretly tell myself whenever I'm feeling lonely and I guess it never works.

To continue this random rant, there are times when I'm sitting at work, or watching a movie, or driving or any other time that I start to feel guilty for things that I did as a kid. For example, and this is my big revelation for my 200th post: when I was a kid, probably 8 or 9, I was playing with my little sister, she would have been three or four at the time. She was jumping off of a little picnic table into my arms, we were having fun playing around, when for no apparent reason (I still can't think of why) I pulled my arms away as she jumped from the table. She fell to the porch and just crumbled. She was okay, just a bruise or two if that, but I feel guilty to this day. Wow, even as I write this I get tears in my eyes. How could I do such a thing, I was just having fun. She trusted me so completely and I let her down. She was hurt because she trusted me. I know that I shouldn't feel guilty over it any more, but here I am almost crying. It must be irrational, but maybe that's the day that my family started to hate me. Maybe that's when she started to hate me. Of course nobody should ever trust me. How could anybody trust me when I would do such a horrible thing. Maybe I'm looking for absolution for doing that, even though I shouldn't need it at this point, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry more than I've ever been sorry for anything that I've ever done. It seems that most of the time when I say I'm sorry it's just because I just want to get out of trouble, or because I have to (work, blah) but for this I truly am sorry. I know I said it when it to her when it happened, and I'm sure nobody else even remembers it, but still I feel bad.

Wow, I just realized how irrational that all seems. Feeling guilty for something that happened so long ago and didn't have any real consequences. But I'm sorry.

As an end note, thank you to everyone that's read my blog over the past 200 posts. My uncle may be right, I might not be able to express my true self here for fear of judgment, but I do my best.

So I've decided that the problems with the girls that read personal ads is that their expectations are too high. By the time you've resorted to personal ads, you need to be able to accept the absolute bottom of the barrel. That's all there is on personal ads, people that have exhausted all other resources and come to the inevitable conclusion that there is probably nobody other there for them. It's like fishing high, you don't really care if you catch anything, you just want to be able to tell people that you tried so you don't seem uninterested.

So one response so far from those 8 adds that I replied to earlier. Just a hi on yahoo messenger, and she just saw my pic, so I'm sure nothing will come of it. Her ad was interesting though, just asking people to describe the perfect first date, here's what I responded with:

I pick you up, I'm a little nervous, but when you open your door I know that there's no need to be. We go the the nearest bowling alley, we bowl a couple of games, have a couple of beers and know that there's the connection that people always talk about. From there, we decide to grab something to eat at an Applebee's or Red Robins, something like that. Then, for no apparent reason except for the sheer spontaneity of it we drive to the coast and have a quiet, moon lit walk on the beach. As we walk down the beach, the fog comes in and we find a big rock at the jetty to sit on, we watch the fog swirl around us and enjoy the moment. From there, anything might happen.

So I got off of work early today and decided to spend the afternoon cruising craigs list. I know it seems to be a futile endeavor, but I'll keep on trying, what else can I do? I replied to 8 personal ads, that's right 8, and posted two of my own. I got a reply from one a couple of days ago, but she ignored me as soon as she saw my picture. Am I really that repulsive? That always happens to me, I'll be sending e-mails back and forth with a girl sometimes two or three a day, then as soon as she sees my picture she runs away. I have gotten two dates out from craig's list in the past year, but no second dates. So here's my standard reply to a personal ad, I always personalize it a little, but here it is. Interestingly enough, it includes a pic so here it is, maybe you can tell me what's wrong with me?

Hi,

I'm Jason, I'm 22 and I live in Albany. I know it's a little far, but distance doesn't matter if there's a connection. I have my own car and apartment and I've had the same job as a Senior Rep at a call center for the past two years, so I like to think that I'm reliable and independent. I'm into cooking, good classic movies and the occasional video game.

I'm 5'8", 275 lbs. I'm a little big, but I'm working on it, I've lost 20 lbs in the past three months. I have dark brown, wavy hair, blue/grey eyes and glasses. Here's my myspace if you want to see a pic:
http://www.myspace.com/oblivionschild

I've never spent a lot of time in Portland, just the bus station on my way to a job in Yakima, so I'd love to make a trip up there, maybe you can show me around.So if you like what you hear, or would like to hear more, reply. If not, I hope you find what you're looking for.

Hope to hear from you,
Jason

(END OF AD)

Can anybody tell me what's wrong with me? Or maybe I just try too hard, who knows.

So I just woke up from spending the past five days high (just weed I promise) and now I feel empty. I don't know, just the all too common loneliness that I feel most of the time, but weed covers it up so well. So I just replied to a couple of personal ads on Craig's List and sent some messages to the few friends that I do have, so maybe when I wake up in the morning it won't all seem so bleak.