.:||:. Controlled Spin .:||:.

::7.27.2004::

Work sucks...

Erg... I'm really fucking pissed. I was hoping to get off work today around 5, go home pop a xanax and just chill. It is now 8, I'm still sitting at my fucking desk trying to get this damned server to quit being a little bitch. I wouldn't mind so much it weren't for the fact that I don't get overtime, not to mention that the one thing I was looking forward to this past weekend fell through, my mood borders between enraged and thoroughly pissed off. Damned computers...

>> Alan spun round and round on 7/27/2004 08:01:00 PM (0) comments

::7.21.2004::

Alright already, we'll all float on. No, don't you worry, we'll all float on...

Well, I've officially decided that my life would be a very interesting movie, and am seriously considering scraping the current script I'm working on and putting my life to page.

Tiff and I have been hanging out quite a bit lately; we don't talk about it, but I can tell when she thinking about it; neither of us are looking forward to going our seperate ways in a few weeks. We both tend to just become very quite when the conversation drifts towards moving. Our relationship has never really been classifiable, we've drifted between being lovers and friends, and back again. Now here we are closer than ever, and she's headed to West Georgia, and I get to stay behind. I hate to sound like a whiny five-year old, but it's just not fair. I'm continually hearing about how great a guy I am, how I always seem to somehow 'save the day' for someone. I mean what about my day, who the fuck is going to save my day? These past two weeks I've rediscovered something that I thought I'd never see again, these past two weeks I've been happy, and it's not just having Tiff back in my life that's caused it, though it is a very big part of it.

Just today she came by my house to pick up a dvd (I got her a copy of 'Northern Exposure', it is one of her favorite shows, and she always talked about it when we were dating) and she just came right in and flopped on my bed (she has also commented on how much she loves my bed; it's a rope bed so the matress is suspended, plus add in the fact that I've got one of those super soft matresses and denim goose feather pillows (in the summer with my fan on they are cold to the touch, and in the winter they hold heat better than my down comforter) my bed is probably the most comfortable thing on the planet) we talked for a bit then she started to fall asleep, so I got on my computer and finished up a couple of pieces that I'd been working on. I turn around a little later and this sense of completely losing myself and the world came over me. She was so beautiful. She was laying on her side with her hands tucked under her head on my pillow. It's not like I've never seen a sleeping person before, but what I saw in her I don't think that I could put into words (this is very bad for me, considering I'm a writer and I must rely on my ability to put things into words for others to understand). I was going to go get my camera and snap a picture cause I had a great idea for a piece forming in my head, but no matter how much my brain told my body to move I couldn't; no matter how loud my mind shouted "blink damnit!!!" it fell upon deaf ears. It was interesting when she started waking up, I had to spin around in my chair really fast and manage to hide the fact that I'd banged my knee on my desk.

It's these little moments of intimacy, that make me truly happy. I take something small and insignifigant like that and begin to think about how purely human that little slice of life is. I think about how simple and pure it is, and call me a 'big pussy', but I just melt like ice on a hot day.

Then that shadow on the horizon peer's it's ugly head my direction, and I can't help but dread what it's going to be like in a couple of weeks. This fall everyone will be gone, and I'll be here in fucking Roswell. I mean I'm transferring out to West Georgia second semester, but the thought that I'm never going to be as close to these people in my life again sadens me to no end. Sure we'll all still be friends and keep in touch, but it will never be the same. Maybe I just care/think too much about these things, but is it wrong of me to not want to lose that???

Geez, I'm so freaking pathetic.

Any how I'm working on an entry that will probably change the way a lot of people look at me, I just hope that I have the stones to post this story, as it tells a lot about me that almost no one knows, but I feel that with all these people going away, they might as well hear things from the beginning.

I've been thinking way too much...

Rob: I'm tired of the fantasy, because it doesn't really exist. And there are never really any surprises, and it never really...
Laura: Delivers?
Rob: Delivers. And I'm tired of it. And I'm tired of everything else for that matter. But I don't ever seem to get tired of you, so...

- High Fidelity

That movie is my fucking bible. Though now that I look at it my all time favorite movies are as follows:

1) High Fidelity (Main character owns a record store)
2) Empire Records (Entire movie takes place in a record store)
3) Almost Famous (Main character fraudently becomes a music journalist)
4) Say Anything (The infamous 'boombox' scene)
5) Jerry Miguire (Nothing musical here, just a great movie)

Maybe I should consider a career in music...

>> Alan spun round and round on 7/21/2004 03:07:00 PM (0) comments

::7.08.2004::

Life’s a bitch and there is nothing that you or I can do to change that.

Good goo… I’m really fucked up right now. This should be interesting. Since my last entry my life has managed to do a complete 720, and left me praying to the porcelain gods of my proverbial life.

It all started with my being accepted to the University of West Georgia. I was stoked; I get to get my sorry ass back into a class room, and I don’t lose the one person that means the world to me, Tiff. Then about three days later I get a letter from West Georgia saying that they made a mistake and that I technically don’t qualify to be a ‘frosh’ because I didn’t take a math above Algebra 2, but they tell me that they’ve enrolled me into their advanced transfer program and will still be able to attend their school. The catch you ask? Well, since I’m not technically a freshman at West Georgia, I’m unqualified to apply for student housing. Solution: Get an apartment.

I never thought it possible to feel both elation and misery, but I think that’s the only way to describe the way I felt in that moment and it is a feeling that I’ve very recently become all too familiar with.

I began doing an unfathomable amount of the most dangerous thing any person could ever do; think. I soon crunched the numbers and realized that despite my past year of working seven days a week I hadn’t saved near enough money to be able to afford my own apartment, cover all the things that my scholarship wouldn’t and not have to work come this fall. This was rather depressing to realize that I’ve spent the past year devoid of any semblance of the social life that I once had, looking to be able to head off this fall and gain it all back ten fold, and it still wasn’t enough. All of it for nothing, a year wasted, unless, yes, I hadn’t thought about that, a roommate would make it much easier… but who?

You recall my quoting that thinking is the most dangerous activity that any person could do, well proof of said theory is as follows:

Tiff pulled an interesting stunt a few nights before all this occurred. I was on my way to the movies with my buddy Taylor, when I get this text message from Tiff. I park my car and start fumbling with my phone trying to figure out what it is she wants (I don’t mess with my phone when I’m driving, or at least try not to.) After a handful of menu’s I finally get the text message on screen, “HELP ME” is all it says.

I started, yeah that’s right thinking… that she’s probably in trouble (flat tire, drunk and needs a ride, emotionally distraught, and you know general things that one would start worrying about). I tell Taylor to head in and that I’d catch up with him later. Immediately I called her back, wanting to know what was wrong, to which she replied “Oh I don’t want to talk about it now, it’s personal.” Alan’s happy tie rope round ankle, jump off bridge. I’ve a question to all you females out there; do you do this shit intentionally? Seriously, I mean here I was thinking like she was stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night and there are rabid animals closing in, then when I call she shrugs it all of like nothing. I seriously began contemplation if it was really a girl in the old tale of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”, NO GUY IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD PULL THIS SORT OF SHIT.

Anyhow that whole paragraph is of little importance to the grand scheme of this story, other than you need to remember the fact that I was thinking, and it all went to hell very, very fast. This whole thing (the ‘HELP ME’ portion of the story) reminded me that she was going to West Georgia, and that the housing application deadline was still two weeks off. I’d found a candidate for a roomy.

Now most of you are probably saying, “Wait, you asked your ex-girlfriend, whom you still have feelings for, (and she knows you still have feelings for her) to move into an apartment with nothing in the way of supervision??? Better still, you believe she might say yes??!!” (In fact I can grantee that most of you are saying it, because it is well known that most people mouth things that they are reading due to a proficiency at auditory learning.) Allow me to reiterate the status of things between Tiff and I, it’s been two and a half years since we ended it, and as of June 28, 2004, I will have known her for exactly six years (how I possess that knowledge and can’t for the life of me remember anything I learned in the class rooms of good old’ Roswell High is another tale). She was the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s over now and I know that, but I can’t help but want only to see her happy, or so I thought.

On the fourth I was at Sarah’s new David’s for a house party (She and Holt ended it I want to say about three weeks ago, but don’t quote me on that) and I’d told her about it. Also at said party was Paul, who recently got out of a bad relationship (his gal turned out to be a dirty ho, and had been cheating on him for about 3 months), Paul is a great guy, he’s funny, and can out drink an elephant. Unfortunately Paul hasn’t had sex since he broke up with his girl about 3 months ago, and has since vowed that he would “fuck anything with legs”. At this point I think you can guess what happened that night. She and Paul got friendly and all I could do is sit and down the next shot of tequila that was handed to me. Around midnight (alcohol count: 6 beers, 3 hits of tequila, and 2 hits of rum) I couldn’t stand it anymore and started packing up my shit to leave. Paul and Tiff were curled up on a couch under a blanket talking. Next thing I know I’m standing by my car, finishing up my seventh beer when who do I see step out of the house but Paul with Tiff in his arms. I couldn’t even watch, and I knew I couldn’t drive, at least to where I wouldn’t get pulled over.

She walked past me, then stopped asked “where are you going?”

“Home, you?” was all I could manage to say.

“The same.”

“What no, stay, you and Paul seem to be having a good time.” I choked out.

She said something, but I don’t remember what exactly.
Now, odds are it was the tequila and not the rum (though it was more so just the general amount of alcohol that I had in my system), but for some reason I decided to bring up my needing a roommate. After that I don’t recall the rest of the conversation, but knowing my luck and how things generally tend to work out for me I’m going to have to place my money on one of the non-positive outcomes.

I do, however, remember her getting in her car and driving off not long after that.

Looking back at it now, I’m a little appalled at my reaction. In the two and a half years since we broke up I’ve dated and fooled around, but I guess I never considered the same of her, I guess I never thought about the fact that she probably hooked up with other guys in that stint of time. Of course I was no where near prepared for any of this and it all decided to kick in right then and there while I was standing in the street.

Promptly I rifled through one of my bags and found a couple codeine I’d stashed for nights like this and went back up to David’s house, and proceeded to down the pills with another shot of tequila. Burnout Alan had made his glorious return. I told Paul about my past with Tiff, and he played the gentleman, apologized, and said that if it wasn’t cool with me he wouldn’t pursue anything with her. I of course played the same, telling him that it was fine with me, but I saw that this wasn’t a good idea, and I’m currently trying to get in touch with him to tell him that I do have a problem. I don’t remember much of the rest of the evening, only that the next morning it was comforting to feel as bad physically as I was emotionally.

The days and nights since then have been a haze, the days spent trying to work and recover from the night before, and the nights spent giving me a reason to hate myself in the morning. I’m not looking forward to my shifts at Freeland’s this weekend; I don’t really want to even see Tiff. I’ve no idea how I’d react or what I’d say. I don’t know which bothers me more though, the fact that I thought I was over her, but it turns out that I’m not; or that I actually have proof that the game is over and I’ve lost.

Thus concludes the evidence that thinking is the most dangerous of things, odds are that all too often you’ll over think things you shouldn’t and not think about the things that really matter in life. Now, if you’ll excuse me there is a bottle of vodka calling my name.

>> Alan spun round and round on 7/08/2004 03:03:00 PM (0) comments