You Are A Tourist
Happy Birthday 447th Bill
So the town I live in is extremely lame. I like going to college here (sorta) and the people are nice (some of them) but its still so blah. I look out my window and see all these houses that look the same and have the same kinda people in them. I used to think I stuck out like a sore thumb but now I just realize that I don’t fit in, and not fitting in here can be both a blessing and a curse. Too bad I really just don’t give a fuck. I see these little rich bitch teenagers in their brand new cars and I laugh at them. What are they going to be one day? Nothing. Their going to go to some party school that their daddys paid for, find husbands, move back and continue you the legacy that their mothers started. What the hell kinda life is that? I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life but I can sure as hell tell you its not going to be that. Anything is better than living in the cookie cutter houses with the white picket fences. Ok so story time.
So about a year ago this guy started liking me right? Which honestly wasn’t a bad thing since the last guy I formally dated turned out to be gay. Ok so well this guy and me start this thing which wasn’t even really a thing. We went on a couple dates and stuff and get this, this guy wouldn’t even try to hold my hand. What the hell is that? It also didn’t help that he wears basketball shorts year round. And I mean year round. Well so he goes away to college and stuff and I’m teching for this show that his younger sister is in and he shows up. I had nowhere to run to it was like MUAHAHA FACE THE MUSIC. Which always sucks. So me trying to be nice and all that asks the guy to hang out (ok actually what happened is his mom was like ohhh alex should take you home and I was like I have plans and I felt bad so I offered to take him with me to the show the next day because he was supposed to do lights but he didn’t and sat backstage with me the whole time) so I take him with me and we end up sitting backstage the whole time and I’m putting makeup on this kid, and ok time out listen. This is like big deal shit to me. This shit never happens. And I’m really hoping my best friend dosen’t read this (my best friend who is gay and caused an uproar with this guy but thats another story) and like go yakkety yak about it because I didn’t tell him when it happened. Ok well I’m pretty sure I didn’t tell him because he thinks this guys frumpy and bleh and its true it really is but hes still a guy who likes me and thats saying something. Ok so that being said heres the rest of the story and I promise it ties back into the original beginning of this story. So I’m sitting there putting makeup on this kid and I look up and we lock eyes and we had a moment. A fucking moment. A moment where a spontaneous smile spread across my face and I looked away because I was blushing. What the hell man? This kids so far off from me that its not even funny. So after this happens and the shows over (which for your info I sat knitting and he sat criticizeing my knitting yeah bullshit right?) I take him home and its like he finally fucking got it. So we’re standing on his porch and I hugged him and he didn’t want to let go and I was like I’ll see you in the summer and he was like eyah I guess.
So thats the story and this is how this ties back into my original point. So I’m in my car driving home and I’m thinking yeah man maybe I should call him and propose we do this whole girlfriend boyfriend thing. And it hits me. And this is what it sounded like in my mind, HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT A SWORDFISH ALMOST WENT THROUGH MY EYE. Yeah for reals. Hey when things hit me I hear movie quotes. And what I realize is this, this is the kinda guy who you wait to come home from college for good and then you guys get married and live the life his mother wants you to live. And I do not conform to that nonsense. At all. So pretty much after this I stopped talking to him and kinda blew him off (going to see a movie is a lot more fun that awkward moments with a fumbling teenage boy) and started looking around and then it hit me that you not need to have someone in your life as your boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever to make you happy (ok thats not entirely true because everyone has sexual tension but everybody can masturbate just saying) but listen to this craziness: you can’t be happy with someone else till your happy with yourself. craziness right? Took me 19 fucking years to figure that out but hey I got there eventually. So the moral of this story kids is this: don’t settle or even consider settling because you don’t need someone to make you happy all the time. Especially if your under the age of 25. So go out their kids and have fun on your own. And you have some built up sexual tension, well just listen to what Woody Allen says, “Masturbation is sex with someone you love” Drink that up.
Well I went through and deleted all of my old boring posts. Now I am going to start writing like David Sedaris because who dosen’t love a gay man with a dyfunctional family? I wish to be like David Sedaris one day. Theres just a few problems. Well actually just one really big one. I am not a man nor am I gay. Well dosen’t really stop me from writing about the dyfunctional family or dyfunctional life though does it? Hopefully not. Actually, believe it or not, a lot of my idols and role modles are gay. Freddie Mercury, Ellen, David Sedaris, I mean their super amazing people who are actually making a difference, well accept for Freddie becase hes already dead but he did leave his mark on the world and he still is so thats always a plus. Oh god here I go babbiling again. Is that how you even spell that? Eh I’m too lazy to spell check. So heres the laydown of how my brain works and how I then begin to get things down on paper or on screen:
1. Weird shit always happens to me. If their weren’t witnesses to it people would presume I’m a liar and make up this amazing tales which I wish I could make this stuff up because then I could write movies and make bank
2. I write things down in a notebook, actually just chicken scratch into a notebook, to remember for later. I’m got a really shitty memory.
3. I then ponder and refine those thoughts (bullshit I just start typing or writing madly) and poof! there it is a beautiful piece of art. Or just ramblings really.
It works this process. People think its hard to get stuff out but you just have to throw out all those damn rules and regualtions and go at it. Screw rules and regulations. The only reason there in effect is to make people feel secure and alright about themselves. But in all honesty the only person or thing that can do that for you is you. So go at it. Do that crazy thing that one told you could. The only reason they tell you no is because the like the alrightness and security that has been passed down to them through falseness also. I mean hell, look at me. I’m supposed to be something great and fantastic that involves something in the medical field so I will always have health insurance. All I really want to do though is write. But shhh. Don’t tell my parents :)
Things have been relatively calm between The Homies and The Winnie-the-Pooh Crew since the 100 Acre Wood riot of 1994.
Hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife, hide yo’ husband, ‘cause Tigger will cut you.