Still passing the open windows and falling down the stairs

I’m so cool

Oh, yeah. Ran over to the Verizon shop during lunch to get my new White Chocolate. Feeling good. Feeling confident. Feeling hip.

Got back to the office and realized my fly had been down the whole time.

Feeling like an ass.

Mojo Nixon don’t work here

It’s 1989 and the Dead Milkmen are on the radio. I’m cruising in AZ with my friends and they all hate my music. “Change it,” they are shouting, as usual. “MC Hammer,” is the current request being chanted from the back seat. It’s fall and the monsoons are on their way. I can smell it…feel it…taste it in the air.

I’m a junior. Finally, an upper classman. I can go to the Burger King across the street during lunch. Again, my friends all want something else – Taco Bell, down the road. I prefer BK because there’s a skate shop next door and I know all the lovely little grommets will gather there to discuss the latest in trucks and decks. My friends like jocks.

And I’m boy crazy. I crush hard on at least five guys every year. My friends all have “serious” boyfriends but I don’t find anyone that fits. Or maybe it’s me that doesn’t fit. It’s never quite right. I’m looking for something specific. Someone specific. I know that half my friends will get married within five years of graduation. I know I will not.

I don’t think about those times all that often but all day I’ve been experiencing waves of déjà vu or something. I actually smell those smells, feel those feelings…you get the picture. I can’t shake it. It started when I got in the shower and grew stronger as I drove to work with the windows down, singing with the radio. It was Wilco, not the Dead Milkmen. I haven’t heard them recently, but I’m thinking I should see if I still have a DM tape to put on when I get home. Maybe that will correct this space time continuum problem I’m having.

For those who want a 2007 update: No one seems to care what I listen to on the radio these days and I’m 1,700 miles from Phoenix. It’s early summer and there are no monsoons here. I don’t cruise for grommets and I don’t eat fast food, unless I’m desperate. Not that it matters; I rarely leave my desk at lunchtime. I’m not as boy crazy anymore but I still know what I don’t want. Most of my friends from school are probably divorced and maybe remarried by now. Who is happier?

By the way, if you see me today and it IS 1989, please don’t mention the three pounds of make-up. I assure you, it’s a phase.

Float

Wow. More than a month has passed since I disappeared into myself. And here’s a heads up…this is not a funny post. If that’s what you’re in the mood for, try this, or this, or this. This one gives me a giggle, too.

I’ve been struggling. My health has not been good and as the test results are rolling in…negative, negative, negative…I’m beginning to think that my mind has once again sabotoged my body.

Fuzzybottom is back in Ohio. He’s working like crazy and will be there all summer (he left mid-April). We were having problems before he left and I’ve been mulling over my next steps for two months. You don’t have to be Karnak the Magnificent to know what certain people (who shall not be named) want me to do. Move on, honey…

Easier said than done. I love him. I miss my friend. Not to mention that I never have the physical pain with him that I have without him. BUT, I am willing to admit that I’ve run out of steam. Three years gone and we’ve made no progress. He’s still not dealing with his shit. I still want the things he’s not yet offered.

I’ve been periodically checking in on the site(s) of this really amazing guy, Halcyon. Be warned, all ye faint of heart, that if you do any digging beyond Hug Nation, you may find that he is something of a part-time pornographer…gasp!

Anywhoooo…I don’t remember exactly how I found his site(s) but his gentle nature and seemingly pure heart pulled me in and I continued to read. He posted the following (I don’t know if he wrote it…?), “Float More, Steer Less. Love More, Fear Less.” It appears to be the Hug Nation motto…?

I wrote it down and have walked around with it in my bag for months. It struck me today that this is the perfect choice for my daily meditation. I am not even close to floating because I have secretly been consumed by fear. I’ve been terrified of making any decision because I’m afraid it might be wrong.

TODAY, I begin to float. So, please, let me.

ps…did you notice who he was hugging? Rob effin’ Corddry!

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