Dreams for a new millenium

I think I got tagged at roughly the same time by Alison and Laura, so I guess they each get a full point. You thought I was going to say a half-point but I'm feeling awfully generous.

I'm not tagging anyone else though because I don't know seven people who haven't done this and I'm morally against imposing my will on other people, unless it is dinner time and two of my co-workers can't decide where they want to eat. On to the rules!

* Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.

* Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.

* Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.

* Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on his or her blog.

1. As a child, I moved around a lot. It was to the same three states though (NJ, FL, TX) and I lived in several places on more than one occasion. And, no, my family was not in the military! Thanks for asking!

2. My favorite food in the world is an authentic, hot, soft pretzel with spicy brown mustard, preferably from a dirty guy selling them out of a metal shopping cart in Philadelphia. A little specific, sure, but it makes a difference.

3. I have owned two pets in my lifetime: a pair of goldfish when I was four or five. One of them died and my mom and I flushed it down the toilet. The next day, I flushed the live one down the toilet and that was effectively the end of pet ownership for a young Jon-Michael. I have not been in charge of a pet since, but I would very much like to be. In fact, I have the general idea of exactly what I'd like: two medium-sized female dogs and they have to be sisters, a black male cat with somewhat of an attitude, a female ferret with a name that sounds like she could have been a member of the Beatles (or at least lived in Ireland) and some fish thrown in for good measure. The fish are important, because I need a shot at redemption.



4. My biggest pet peeve in life is hearing the same story or stories over and over again. My mom is the most colossal perpetrator of this heinous crime. I'd rather my mom just recite shit she heard off the news every day than hear about how she bought some piece of second-hand furniture for the fifth time. I try not to be a jerk but if I told you I already heard that story before and I don't seem interested, don't keep going.

I sincerely love my mother, but another thing she does that drives me loopy is this: She calls me on the phone and I say something like, "Hey, I am busy or I really can't talk to you right now." Her response to this 90 percent of the time is to keep talking like she never heard me say I have to go. The other 10 percent, she just asks," Oh, really?" and THEN keeps talking. Hilarious, quirky, tenacious...folks, that's my mom!

5. One of my favorite things to do is go on a website called gametz.com

It is a pretty simple message board-type site where people trade games and other items. It combines three of my favorite aspects of life: video games, bartering and bullshitting with other people. There is a guy on there named Masterchief06 who is a pretty big tool but I can't help but be in the chatroom and say ridiculous things to him like, "Can I trade you a dollar for your dignity?" and before he can answer, say, "Oh wait, you lost that a long time ago."

I may be petty and childish at times but I thought that was what the internet is for?

6. I have two humongous fears. They are dying alone and turning out like my father. The dying alone is self-explanatory in my mind and something I doubt any logical human being wants. The thing with my dad is a little more complicated.

I know my mom wasn't a saint and it takes two people to make a relationship work, but here are two trump cards she has over anything my dad can use as an excuse for why I went 15 years without seeing him.
A.) My mom raised me pretty much alone with some peripheral help from my grandfather (R.I.P.)
B.) My mom has always been honest with me about everything. I've seen the best and worst of her and I don't think there is a single thing my dad could really tell me about her that would surprise me outside of, "Your mom pulled Carrot Top out of a burning house in 1983."
So when he tries to explain his side, I might shake my head and act like I understand. However, I really don't. My brother Kenneth is my half-brother and I couldn't ever imagine going 15 years without seeing him for any reason, so think about how I'd feel about my own children! Therefore, outside of a genuinely heart-felt apology or admittance that he was wrong, I don't want to hear excuses. There's a small part of me that wants to forgive and forget, but an even bigger part that just wants to ask him once and for all, "At what point did you think this was a good plan at all?"

My mom doesn't realize it but she's pushed me to accomplish things in my life. They may not seem significant and I might not always show my infinite gratefulness. I should tell her this Christmas in the card I'll give her. I hate to always feel like I'm complaining about my mom. The one wish I had is that she knew how to take the proverbial foot off the gas when it comes to pushing me. Because I don't push back, I tend to fly off the edge.

7. Man these things are getting longer and longer, aren't they? The last one should be a pretty good one, right? Something that I have thought about or dreamt about over the years and not talked about to anyone...I can almost feel people leaning forward in anticipation, with baited breath, to watch this revelation unfold. It's not that big of a deal, really.

When I was in 7th grade, we moved to Cypress, TX, which was basically a suburb of Houston. We lived in a quiet subdivision and there were lots of other kids around and it was awesome. My best friend lived like four or five doors down and his name was Kevin Carlson. We were around the same height (sadly, i was like 5'2 or 5'3 when i was 13 and wouldn't grow much more) but couldn't have looked more unlike. He had shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes and sounded like he was from Texas. Me, well, you know. Anyhow, it's not anything gay, but over the years, I've had dreams of meeting up with him when we were both older. The weird thing, though, is we both clearly recognize each other but neither of us will approach the other or do anything else to admit we know each other! It doesn't make any sense!

Anyhow, that was it as far as that dream goes. But what I remember about Kevin is we both loved basketball more than pretty much anything. He had a hoop in his driveway and I'm pretty sure we wore the net out from shooting on it all the time. When I was growing up, basketball was the common denominator by which I made friends. Like I'm not over-exaggerating at all.

I met my best friend Jose in an art class in 8th grade and we were kind of enemies. He challenged me to a game of basketball, we played, he beat me (we'd have many epic games over the years) and we were almost inseperable after that. I was the best man at his wedding for crying out loud. The funny thing was that basketball was a common bond I shared with most of my friends growing up but the way I first got good at shooting a basketball was because I was kind of a lonely kid sometimes with all the moving we did. It's not always easy to immediately make friends and when I moved to Houston on my ninth birthday, I spent the first however many months sneaking into the YMCA and shooting baskets for hours by myself. Sometimes I would play games with other people but I remember just shooting over and over again. It's seriously like riding a bike. I can pick up a basketball right now and it would feel natural in my hands. It might take me a little to warm up and regain my shot, but it has always felt like it was there.

I'm not great at basketball by any means but I can usually hold my own. The most common response I get is, "He's a lot better than I thought he'd be." Not that that is a ringing endorsement. I'm a short, awkward, unathletic-looking person. I know this. In fact, there aren't too many situations where I feel natural and at ease. But when I have a basketball in my hands, a good basketball (a leather Spalding), my senses all leap a little, I am redeemed and I hear a symphony in my head.

To end this blog, I am making a resolution right now. I am putting my good basketball on the back floorboard of my truck and going to find my pump and needle and put that in my truck too. I want to be a step away from always starting a pickup game, any time, any place.

That is a shitload of money for quite possibly the stupidest idea I've ever heard in my entire life.

I'm pretty burned out on sports right now. So instead of watching the Florida-Tennessee game tomorrow, I'm gonna go ride some rollercoasters. I'm not the biggest fan ever of Sheikra, but it's going to make me its bitch tomorrow, probably more than one time.

See, that's the kind of thing that happens when you're rolling with Alison Scott. You think about what your threshold as a human being is and then you burst right past that barrier. It's pretty cool actually.

My life is not defined by any one things. There are aspects I enjoy like sports, yet I'll be damned if I ever let anything control my thought process. Not even thought of sexual intimacy are going to do that!

I haven't really been playing video games very much lately. For some of you (Alison), you'd think that that means down to three hours a day.

In all honesty, we're talking once every three days maybe. I did play Guitar Hero 3 two days in a row to ruin that average a little. But since I'm the one writing this p.o.s., let me clarify. I see GH3 as part of my music listening. I like playing "Possum Kingdom" by The Toadies, not because it's the most fun or challenging song but because I like it.

My favorite Guitar Hero song to play is either "YYZ" by Rush or "3s & 7s" by Queens of the Stone Age. There are two songs I detest hearing or playing and those are "Surrender" by Cheap Trick and "I Love Rock and Roll" by Joan Jett. That would be because my mom and Alison wore out those two songs respectively.

Anyhow, Game Night is going to be tons of fun as well. Those are my favorite, a time where a select few of us come together and leave the world's problems behind us and put silly board games, food and sometimes a little drinky-drink in front of us.

Taste my lightning.

Sometimes life is just life

Sometimes everything feels connected and other times, nothing does. It's either utter order or complete chaos.

I think the mark of someone who has truly learned from their mistakes is this: all people make mistakes during their youth. But do you learn from your past transgressions and become what is known as an "adult"? Or is it just a case of same shit, different day?

I know I'm sick and tired of the latter and I still haven't really embraced the former. So where does that leave me? In some mid-20s purgatory, maybe? Perhaps a limbo of some sorts?

When I write about my feelings, it is never with the intent to hurt anyone else. Yet when you've experienced a lot of different things and know that something you thought was this then is no longer that now, it's sobering for all parties involved.

I know from my experiences what I want out of life but on the other hand, I ponder whether or not the person I want to spend the rest of my life with can truly hope to know if that is what she really wants as well? It's not a case of doubt in my mind, I just know where I was at when I was 23 and either she's a much better, more introspective person than I ever was or maybe that's what comes through when our lives become emotional.

It's tough to talk in such vague terms but I want to let people know that the gears in my head are turning but not exactly what is being produced at all times. Every time I think I'm headed in some direction, I just get a little stymied by the overwhelming feeling that this is it.

That for the immediate future, I have such mundane things to look forward to like reading a sports magazine that comes every Wednesday or getting excited when someone responses to a trade I offered in a fantasy football league. I feel like I should be investing in something more substantial.

It's always been hard to explain to normal people the allure of Las Vegas to me. I think it's because Vegas is the polar opposite of my life. I'm not implying I'm a timid person, I don't think anyone who knows me would use that word to describe me. But I do feel reserved in a lot of ways, going through a daily grind.

The bright lights, fine dining, drinking, gambling, shows and overall debauchery that takes place when I'm in Vegas appeals to me in the sense that that is not how I want to live every day of my live. But every three months, it's a pretty damn nice change of pace. I'm not sure if it's a phase or something that will always be in my blood to some extent.

Contrary to what some people have presented to me in private conversations, I don't go to Vegas to have meet women or have sex. As odd as this may sound, that's not really what Vegas is to me. I like playing blackjack while drinking a beer, being at a really good table where everyone is having a good time.

I like going and eating scallops, crab legs, prime rib and a bunch of other things that probably aren't great for you in mass quantities.

I like seeing comedians or gravity-defying performances.

Those are all things you can do in every-day, ho-hum life. I'm not impying my life is insufferable, just that it's nice to have a break from it every now and again.

When I get married, I'm never going to think about having a divorce. But going away for a few days a year to have a vacation or something by myself is going to appeal to me still because that s the kind of person I am. I don't want to be around anyone 24/7/365 and that is something I already know is going to be a challenge for me when I marry.

People ask me, "How can you go to Vegas alone?" Read the above paragraph and you'll see why pretty easily. It's not that I'm antisocial or unfriendly. Sometimes I like having no plans or not worrying what someone else wants to do.

I like going to the movies alone for that reason. When that happens, I see what I want 100% of the time. I don't have to worry about sitting through something for two hours that I know going in I'm not interested in.

I also know that isn't how life does or even should work. Always being gratified at the expense of others is not right, just like always yielding to the requests of others isn't.

I'm really beginning to ramble and I lost any sense of direction I had but I'm not reading this before I post it because I don't want to edit my own thoughts.

The boy who cried wolf and other stories I tell myself at night

There come proverbial crossroads in life. Not like what I should eat today or if I'm going to Las Vegas for an eighth time. No, these are the kind like, "Do I want to put in the hard work to show a girl that I really do want to spend the rest of my life with her despite my past actions?"

That's a fantastic question and one I already know the answer to. Knowing what Point A and B are, though, are completely different than knowing how to get from one to the other. As I'm sure others can attest to, it's probably one of the more sobering realities to face when the one person who you could tell anything to and really leaned on more than you ever let on gets hurt by you and no longer makes herself available.

This time, it wasn't a case of me just coming to the conclusion that it was another bump in the road. This time when I messed up, I actually looked back at my whole history of relationships from the time I was 18 and saw one common link: Whenever I get too comfortable and the relationship is ready to move into the realm of greater committment, I'm like an elephant in a china shop who's seen a mouse. I get freaked out and start breaking up everything beautiful in sight. In the past, it wasn't as much of a problem because I was with girls who I really didn't see a long-term future with.

Now here is a girl I know in my heart and soul I want to be with for the rest of my life. It really is different this time and one of the ways I know this is because every time I screw up, all I want to do is make it all up to her. In the past, if I screwed up with a girl I didn't really care about, I'd just shrug my shoulders and not worry about it.

The difficult part is going to be keeping vigilant in the face of utter disinterest, I'm not saying my efforts to show her I care are working or not working. But I'd never know from her because I'm getting the stonewall of my life put up before me. Any interaction I've had is like being in a doctor's office and having his assistant coldly ask you what your symptoms are. I don't blame her for acting this way, yet it definitely kills me inside to know someone who unconditionally loved me was treated in such a way by me that she feels the need to be cold and composed.

Luckily for me (I guess), a flame still burns and it truly is stronger than ever. And you might be thinking, well what is truly different this time? I said earlier that I looked back on all my interactions with women since I was 18 and I know if I treat this girl like any other one, I deserve to lose her. Because she ISN'T any other girl. She's the one I enjoy being around even when there's nothing to do besides lie there and listen to each other breathe. She's the one whose smile completely melts me and makes me actually feel proud and embarassed to have someone adore me that much (at least in the past). Most importantly, she is truly the first girl I could ever look into the future and see us older and happier. Both of us working hard and maybe with some kids and dogs and, most importantly, a lot of love in our lives.

And someone reading this might ask, "Well, why now? Why didn't you realize these things earlier or before it was too late?" I really don't know but I swear I'm going to do everything in my power to show this person who much I really and honestly cherish them. The delicate balance is doing so without coming off as overbearing but not too casual to imply I'm still in the same frame of mind or (gasp!) uncaring. I never again want to come off as someone who doesn't care when, in truth, I think I care about a lot of things more than the average person. I have passion in my body and I don't intend for that not to show again.

I want to backpack through Europe with you, Alison and maybe that will be a reward for us after I can get to you see that I am in love with you and really want to share every aspect of my life with you and, one day, make a life with you. I don't mean babies in that instance. I'm not going to be the boy who cried wolf. When something comes out of my mouth, I want you to be able to believe it 100 percent. Except for the one last hurtful thing I said to you. I know you didn't believe that, but when I didn't backtrack, I know it hurt all the same.

A long, long time ago...

I remember when I used to write a whole lot. For any reason, really. To express how I felt, to stoke my creative fire, in trying to woo women. Something nearly no one knows about me is that when I was in high school, I penned some poetry. Usually, when one recalls their first stab at anything, it's amateurish and obsequious to clearly defined guidelines.

Like when you first start playing the guitar, a nice three-cord song lets the musician get off the ground. Slowly building confidence and a mastery of the beginning so you can progress further down the rabbit hole. My first poems were similar in nature, but had a definable quality I no longer possess as a person.

My passion has been a dying fire for a while now. Also, I realized I would go to any lengths to make a female happy, mostly ones who had no interest in reciprocation. What's that called...unrequited love? Back to the task at hand... Where did that drive to please a woman just evaporate to? Anyhow, the fire is not completely unstokable, but it definitely needs some sparks or gas thrown on it pronto. A co-worker just told me to stay out of trouble as he was leaving work and I said, "That's all I seem to get into." The funny part is I'm sure I mean that, but in what way? In unrelated news, this blog has an auto-save feature for your rough draft so you don't lose great ideas. My Space needs to get on that immediately. I've lost moments of clarity I might never get back to malfunctions in cyberspace. As great as it is that we can store millions of words in a space 1/100,000 or so smaller than paper, pen on white is still the safest way to make sure that what you are saying gets heard.

There's two songs I'm hearing in my mind right now. "Clarity" by John Mayer and "Moment of Clarity" by Jay-Z. I think it's rather obvious what those two ditties share in common, yet in those moments of crystal clearness I feel some sadness. Not that anyone can see into the future (and, if they can, I just have a question or two for you!), but sometimes I can see the way things are supposed to unfold. Right now, I am not letting that happen. I need to go with the flow a little more and let my mind just be at ease.

Also, I had a pretty good time in Las Vegas. It was better than my first trip in some ways and not as good in others. The phrase, "You can't have your cake and eat it" made absolutely no sense to me...until now. For those who might read this, I love having my own blog with my own name so I would venture to guess I'm going to be on here more often. Peace.