The emo girl.
I saw an emo girl the other day walking home from my early Thursday-morning class. The Dashboard Confessional patch and Alkaline Trio pin were dead giveaways. She was really, really cute too; shoulder length curly black hair; a nice body. I guess I didn't get a good look at the front of her, but I'm guessing it was just as lovely as the back. And then I got to thinking, "Would a girl like this actually talk to me?" or even more imporatanly "Do I have the balls to talk to her?" I don't know if I would.
Emo kids, by some sort of a definition, shy, sullen, and lonely. I certainly fit that descripion to a point, and some of the music I listen to helps with that. But I still don't know that you could call me an emo kid. My interests stretch far wider than sitting alone in my parents' basement and trade mixtapes. Sorry for the stereotype, but my point is I'm not really an emo kid. Never mind the fact that I listen to Saves the Day and The Get Up Kids, and I write lyrics screaming of heartbreak and despair. Then again, maybe she's not the stereotypical emo girl at all. In that case, I should go hit it.
Anyways, I don't know if it would work in the long run. I mean, if she really is shy, like you'd expect someone who listens to Dashboard to be... who would do the talking? Someone in my relationships has to talk and it's almost never me. So that wouldn't work. But I'm just speculating here, as I haven't even gotten past the first step of saying "hello." It may as well be a cold day in hell when I do. I'll probably never see her again.
I forgot about the Hot Or Not person of the moment last time, so for your viewing pleasure here are two more HoN people of the moment.
I'd hit 'em both. Twice.
Friday, September 27, 2002
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
You're Pretty When I'm Drunk
I suppose it's time that I update. A lot has happened lately, or maybe nothing's really happened at all. Maybe it's just been another day in the life of Kevin, I don't know. I got some recently. Yes, me, your resident loser, the whiner extraordinaire, champion of all that is melancholy got some play the other day. Or days to be clearer. Of course, it first happened under the influence of a lot of alcohol, but it still happened nonetheless. I hope it was all in the spirit of fun. The spirit of being in college, of being alone with nowhere to go. Because that's all I want right now; I don't need the baggage of a relationship. I hope she feels the same way because, though she seems to be one of the least fucked-up girls I know, I don't think I could have a relationship with her. Never mind the fact that I don't want one anyways... even if I did I don't think I'd want one with her. I'm just not attracted, and over the years I've come to realize that I have to be attracted, both physically and emotionally. I know what you're really wondering, though. I didn't have sex. But what did happen was ten times as good as my trusty right hand, and I had fun. That's what's really important.
I don't think I've been as melancholy lately either. Maybe it's because a girl touched my penis. I really couldn't tell you though. I still see the same happy people holding hands, and I'm still disgusted at them. I still question the fact that I'm sitting here at UW-Whitewater, learning more and more everyday on how I'll really be going nowhere. I may be smart. I may have some uncanny charm on certain people. But I still question everything that's taught to me, even when it's that there's not really any rules in writing (there really are, but no one dares to say that). There is no room for questioners in this world. Everyone has succumbed at one time or another to their superiors. Even your favorite rock stars, artists, and authors. But getting away from this dourness... I'm uncharacteristically happy. I walk these streets like I can still conquer the world. I still think I can write the great American novel. I still dream of being a rock star... a bassist for the best of the fictional bands, The Jews (or maybe it's more PC, yet still shocking Spastic Asshole?). I don't know what to think of this, but as in the story I just read (Candide), I'm not going to think about it too hard. I'm just going to live my life.
I suppose it's time that I update. A lot has happened lately, or maybe nothing's really happened at all. Maybe it's just been another day in the life of Kevin, I don't know. I got some recently. Yes, me, your resident loser, the whiner extraordinaire, champion of all that is melancholy got some play the other day. Or days to be clearer. Of course, it first happened under the influence of a lot of alcohol, but it still happened nonetheless. I hope it was all in the spirit of fun. The spirit of being in college, of being alone with nowhere to go. Because that's all I want right now; I don't need the baggage of a relationship. I hope she feels the same way because, though she seems to be one of the least fucked-up girls I know, I don't think I could have a relationship with her. Never mind the fact that I don't want one anyways... even if I did I don't think I'd want one with her. I'm just not attracted, and over the years I've come to realize that I have to be attracted, both physically and emotionally. I know what you're really wondering, though. I didn't have sex. But what did happen was ten times as good as my trusty right hand, and I had fun. That's what's really important.
I don't think I've been as melancholy lately either. Maybe it's because a girl touched my penis. I really couldn't tell you though. I still see the same happy people holding hands, and I'm still disgusted at them. I still question the fact that I'm sitting here at UW-Whitewater, learning more and more everyday on how I'll really be going nowhere. I may be smart. I may have some uncanny charm on certain people. But I still question everything that's taught to me, even when it's that there's not really any rules in writing (there really are, but no one dares to say that). There is no room for questioners in this world. Everyone has succumbed at one time or another to their superiors. Even your favorite rock stars, artists, and authors. But getting away from this dourness... I'm uncharacteristically happy. I walk these streets like I can still conquer the world. I still think I can write the great American novel. I still dream of being a rock star... a bassist for the best of the fictional bands, The Jews (or maybe it's more PC, yet still shocking Spastic Asshole?). I don't know what to think of this, but as in the story I just read (Candide), I'm not going to think about it too hard. I'm just going to live my life.
Friday, September 20, 2002
The moment is lost.
So, I wanted to post this morning, when the internet was working... it still didn't post. The higher-ups at DLK Enterprises finally figured out that we have T1 lines and not 56k modems, though that didn't last long. As of just a few hours ago the download speeds were once again slow. So what I was going to say this morning about updating my web sites more often, isn't holding true as far as I know. Damn.
Anyways, what was truly lost was the wonderful mood I was in this morning at about 10AM. It had to do with yesterday and how well it went. I wrote a paper on the differences between two characters from picaresque novels for my Modern Western Lit class. I did it in about 1/2 an hour and I didn't think it was that great. But my teacher picked on ME and told me to read it to the class. So I did, and he agreed with my points wholeheartedly. He even joked that he wouldn't have to lecture because I covered all the bases. Compliments from anyone are good, but this guy is a total elitist. Picture Dennis Miller, only chunkier, making the same obscure references and unfunny jokes. That's him, in a nutshell... and he really liked my work.He even came up to me during the break (it's a 2 1/2 hour class) and said I did a good job. I don't really like the guy, but since he thinks highly of me so far, I'll let that go. So in essence the theme "disconnected by your smile" applies here, except that the smile was replaced by praise. And some days I can use all the praise I can get.
Then again, all the praise in the world can't change the fact that I'm lonely. Not even all the girls that say hi to me and know my name. This loneliness kills me every night when I try to go to sleep. I can't stop thinking about her. I can't help but feel bad that she's worse off now (health-wise) then when we parted ways. I'd give everything to be able to hold her close and tell her everything will be alright. I'd love to see her face light up like it used to when I saw her. I cry about these things. Maybe someday I will see her again, hopefully, and let her know that she has not been forgotten. Of course, I think she already knows that, but I have to do this for myself.
Those two things seemed more powerful to me this morning. I don't know why.
And now for your viewing pleasure the ever-popular Hot or Not person of the moment I'd hit it. With a bag of walnuts...
So, I wanted to post this morning, when the internet was working... it still didn't post. The higher-ups at DLK Enterprises finally figured out that we have T1 lines and not 56k modems, though that didn't last long. As of just a few hours ago the download speeds were once again slow. So what I was going to say this morning about updating my web sites more often, isn't holding true as far as I know. Damn.
Anyways, what was truly lost was the wonderful mood I was in this morning at about 10AM. It had to do with yesterday and how well it went. I wrote a paper on the differences between two characters from picaresque novels for my Modern Western Lit class. I did it in about 1/2 an hour and I didn't think it was that great. But my teacher picked on ME and told me to read it to the class. So I did, and he agreed with my points wholeheartedly. He even joked that he wouldn't have to lecture because I covered all the bases. Compliments from anyone are good, but this guy is a total elitist. Picture Dennis Miller, only chunkier, making the same obscure references and unfunny jokes. That's him, in a nutshell... and he really liked my work.He even came up to me during the break (it's a 2 1/2 hour class) and said I did a good job. I don't really like the guy, but since he thinks highly of me so far, I'll let that go. So in essence the theme "disconnected by your smile" applies here, except that the smile was replaced by praise. And some days I can use all the praise I can get.
Then again, all the praise in the world can't change the fact that I'm lonely. Not even all the girls that say hi to me and know my name. This loneliness kills me every night when I try to go to sleep. I can't stop thinking about her. I can't help but feel bad that she's worse off now (health-wise) then when we parted ways. I'd give everything to be able to hold her close and tell her everything will be alright. I'd love to see her face light up like it used to when I saw her. I cry about these things. Maybe someday I will see her again, hopefully, and let her know that she has not been forgotten. Of course, I think she already knows that, but I have to do this for myself.
Those two things seemed more powerful to me this morning. I don't know why.
And now for your viewing pleasure the ever-popular Hot or Not person of the moment I'd hit it. With a bag of walnuts...
Sunday, September 15, 2002
Long weekend.
Yes, so I've been gone for awhile, at least gone from here. I had to go celebrate Christmas at a hotel in Appleton. You read that correctly. Christmas. In September. The story behind that is as follows: My grandparents go to Texas for the fall and winter. So, unless we'd go down there (which would never fly) for Christmas, we're forced to celebrate it months beforehand. Which is OK, in theory. But the fact that this is made public, usually, is what makes it bad. It's horrible enough that my mom's side of the family are drunks. Well, most of them are, anyways. Add to this the fact that certain people DECORATE THEIR ROOMS with Christmas items. Also keep in mind that it's a tradition that a male member of the family dresses up as Santa Claus every year. Finally, remember that there's usually nothing to do but sit and drink, and you've got yourself a recepie for disaster.
My cousin was Santa this year. He's skinny, got jet black hair, and has tattoos and piercings. He had to walk down the stairs, through the hall (past the front desk) to get to the room. He had to ring bells and say "Merry Christmas." Needless to say, people stared. Not just any people, either. These people included hot, single women. Like an idiot, I walked with him.
Later on that night, I saw some of the girls. They ignored me and my cousins. Maybe it was because every time they walked by I had a beer in my hand. Maybe because they knew we were "the psycho people who were having Christmas in September." I don't know. The experience can be summed up by this scene:
(cousin, Steve, to girl who kept walking back and forth by us, obviously she was bored)
Steve: Hey, what's up?
Girl: (ignores him, keeps walking without so much as an acknowledgement)
With the exception of the free beer and the $20 gift card from best buy, I should've kept walking too.
On another note, I got my newly built computer up and running earlier tonight. I was sorry to see my old one go. I really was. I know it's just a machine. But it was good to me, despite was Microsoft threw at it. I just think of all the porn it held. Those lonely Thursday nights wouldn't be the same without it. Or the bad Photoshops. What else would I do when I had nothing to do? And of course, you can't forget all the websites I started on that thing. Good memories (barring the WinXP nightmare). Here's to you, Compaq Presario 7360... you've been a good friend. Thank you.
I know, that was lame. Anyways, here's the Hot Or Not person of the moment.
I'd hit it.
Yes, so I've been gone for awhile, at least gone from here. I had to go celebrate Christmas at a hotel in Appleton. You read that correctly. Christmas. In September. The story behind that is as follows: My grandparents go to Texas for the fall and winter. So, unless we'd go down there (which would never fly) for Christmas, we're forced to celebrate it months beforehand. Which is OK, in theory. But the fact that this is made public, usually, is what makes it bad. It's horrible enough that my mom's side of the family are drunks. Well, most of them are, anyways. Add to this the fact that certain people DECORATE THEIR ROOMS with Christmas items. Also keep in mind that it's a tradition that a male member of the family dresses up as Santa Claus every year. Finally, remember that there's usually nothing to do but sit and drink, and you've got yourself a recepie for disaster.
My cousin was Santa this year. He's skinny, got jet black hair, and has tattoos and piercings. He had to walk down the stairs, through the hall (past the front desk) to get to the room. He had to ring bells and say "Merry Christmas." Needless to say, people stared. Not just any people, either. These people included hot, single women. Like an idiot, I walked with him.
Later on that night, I saw some of the girls. They ignored me and my cousins. Maybe it was because every time they walked by I had a beer in my hand. Maybe because they knew we were "the psycho people who were having Christmas in September." I don't know. The experience can be summed up by this scene:
(cousin, Steve, to girl who kept walking back and forth by us, obviously she was bored)
Steve: Hey, what's up?
Girl: (ignores him, keeps walking without so much as an acknowledgement)
With the exception of the free beer and the $20 gift card from best buy, I should've kept walking too.
On another note, I got my newly built computer up and running earlier tonight. I was sorry to see my old one go. I really was. I know it's just a machine. But it was good to me, despite was Microsoft threw at it. I just think of all the porn it held. Those lonely Thursday nights wouldn't be the same without it. Or the bad Photoshops. What else would I do when I had nothing to do? And of course, you can't forget all the websites I started on that thing. Good memories (barring the WinXP nightmare). Here's to you, Compaq Presario 7360... you've been a good friend. Thank you.
I know, that was lame. Anyways, here's the Hot Or Not person of the moment.
I'd hit it.
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
Reflection
Today is a day that will live on forever, whether you want it to or not. The media will be reminding us all day today of everything that happened one year ago and everything that has happened since, in relation to the terrorist attacks. Will it bring closure? Probably not, especially for those directly involved. Have we as Americans changed? Yes and no. Certainly, if we didn't know already, we live in the best possible place in the world. We understand that we have enemies, and maybe even with rightful cause. But what have we really done besides send a message to the terrorists (in the most general of terms) by bombing the hell out of their country/countries? Do we as people understand that we all exist on this planet together, and in order to exist peacefully we must understand each other first? Have we opened our hearts and extended our arms, not just to the victims of the WTC attacks but to the victims of this whole war on terror? I think that's debatable. Progress has been made. But it's nowhere near finished, and the problem isn't easily solved. For example: This won't go away by putting a bullet in Saddam Hussein's head. We've got a long way to go.
I don't think calling September 11th Patriot Day (as President Bush has declared) will make us reflect or remember the events that happened any more than any other day. Personally, in time I think it will be viewed as just another day off. When was the last time you did something meaningful for Memorial Day (barring that you're veteran)? July 4th (Fireworks don't count)? Those two, and countless other federal holidays are supposed to mark times of meaning in our country's history. Now they're just time off from work, and taken for granted. I, for one, don't need 9/11 declared as anything. I don't need 24 hours worth of programming dedicated to the subject. Do you know why? I experienced it, as everyone did. I watched the drama unfold on TV and read stories and saw pictures on the internet. I cried. I worried. I contemplated the value of human life. I helped out by donating money to the Red Cross. There's not a TV program, a presidential address, or a minute of silence that will bring anything new to the thoughts I already have. They will not aid me in moving on.
For the innocents, I will never forget. I will get on with my life like hopefully everyone else has started to do. But 9/11 will always live on in my hearts and in the hearts of others. Nothing can change that or make it any better. Nothing.
Today is a day that will live on forever, whether you want it to or not. The media will be reminding us all day today of everything that happened one year ago and everything that has happened since, in relation to the terrorist attacks. Will it bring closure? Probably not, especially for those directly involved. Have we as Americans changed? Yes and no. Certainly, if we didn't know already, we live in the best possible place in the world. We understand that we have enemies, and maybe even with rightful cause. But what have we really done besides send a message to the terrorists (in the most general of terms) by bombing the hell out of their country/countries? Do we as people understand that we all exist on this planet together, and in order to exist peacefully we must understand each other first? Have we opened our hearts and extended our arms, not just to the victims of the WTC attacks but to the victims of this whole war on terror? I think that's debatable. Progress has been made. But it's nowhere near finished, and the problem isn't easily solved. For example: This won't go away by putting a bullet in Saddam Hussein's head. We've got a long way to go.
I don't think calling September 11th Patriot Day (as President Bush has declared) will make us reflect or remember the events that happened any more than any other day. Personally, in time I think it will be viewed as just another day off. When was the last time you did something meaningful for Memorial Day (barring that you're veteran)? July 4th (Fireworks don't count)? Those two, and countless other federal holidays are supposed to mark times of meaning in our country's history. Now they're just time off from work, and taken for granted. I, for one, don't need 9/11 declared as anything. I don't need 24 hours worth of programming dedicated to the subject. Do you know why? I experienced it, as everyone did. I watched the drama unfold on TV and read stories and saw pictures on the internet. I cried. I worried. I contemplated the value of human life. I helped out by donating money to the Red Cross. There's not a TV program, a presidential address, or a minute of silence that will bring anything new to the thoughts I already have. They will not aid me in moving on.
For the innocents, I will never forget. I will get on with my life like hopefully everyone else has started to do. But 9/11 will always live on in my hearts and in the hearts of others. Nothing can change that or make it any better. Nothing.
Monday, September 09, 2002
I'm really not a creep. I know I look and sound like one. But I'm really not. I think I'm just too honest for people. For example, I like tits. I mean, I really like them. And with the hot weather we've been having here they are out in droves, my friends. And I'm not afraid to stare. I'm not afraid to look a girl up and down when I'm walking behind her. All this not hidden from everyone else. I'm a pervert, right? Or maybe I just don't play games. You can't possibly tell me that all the other single guys aren't checking the hot ladies out. The difference between me and them is I let you know I'm doing it. Is that really so bad? I thought people liked honesty! I guess they do, but only to a point. I guess when it comes to sexuality, being covert is the way to go, huh? Figures...
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