In this episode; Jeremy and Ricky kick 2013 to the curb and ring in the New Year with a vengeance! This week; Jeremy cries like a bitch at the movies, Ricky rants about smelly vaginas, and the Boys take a look back at the best and worst of good ole' 2013! It's a good old fashioned Auld Lang Syne time folks, so kick on back and ENJOY!
Callin' LIVE from the deepest, darkest corners of the Bayou, The Dirty Rouge Podcast is here to bring the world the finest in aural Southern hospitality.
In this episode, the Beak and the Geek put their thinkin' caps on. This week, Jeremy shares horror stories of Baptist School, James wants a movie made of his life, and the Boys romanticize the End of The World! It's a fun time folks!
In case anybody hasn't figured this out by now, I'm an absolute cry baby sap when it comes to movies.
I think I've mentioned it on the Pod, but basically I cry in every movie that has any substantial level of intimacy whatsoever. That being said, sometimes I cheat and try and force the tears out. Why? Who the hell knows. Maybe subconsciously I'm hoping some hot girl will come strolling by, see me crying over the end of "The Dark Knight Rises" and think I'm compassionate and sensitive. Now, that never happens because this is reality. But, I do hold the "Cry Factor" as a heavy barometer when it comes to my own appreciation for a movie. So when a flick can make me cry within the first 5 minutes, I know we're onto something. On this particular Christmas Day, FROZEN was that something.
The story follows Anna and Ilsa, sisters and princesses of a Nordic kingdom who were once close as sisters could be. As children they would play and laugh, spend all of their days together until something terrible happened. At a young age, Ilsa found out that she the ability to create ice and snow at her command; a talent that could be utilized to form magnificent creations but that power could also bring harm to the people around her. Ilsa accidentally hurts Anna which scares her from ever using that terrible power again. So Ilsa stows away from the world for years, quarantining herself away from the bright, awkward, and curious Anna who doesn't understand why her sister who used to play with every day won't open her bedroom door or come out and build a snowman. Unfortunately, one day Ilsa's power becomes too much for her to control and she spreads forth an eternal winter onto the kingdom. To try and stop anyone from getting caught in the collateral damage of her power, Ilsa runs away, secluding herself on a mountain. That means it's up to Anna to find Ilsa and somehow bring back summer. Along the way she meets up with a Ice Salesmen named Christoph and his Reindeer Sven, who guides her along a journey that encounters trolls, ice castles, and a talking snowman named Olaf.
I know what you're thinking, especially any dudes reading this. "Sounds stupid." But just hear me out here! This is a story about sisterly love, but the undercurrents are so damn powerful. It's a princess story that's also the antithesis of the actual princess story. It's a movie about the love of family, not princes or knights in shining armor. It's about the sacrifices one would be willing to make for the people they love most in the world. It's as moving a flick as I've seen in a long time, and I saw "12 Years A Slave" kids so I know what I'm talking about.
To just talk about the story and not mention the songs would be an injustice in and of itself. Easily, the best Disney musical since perhaps "Mulan". The music is rousing but not distracting and adds incredible layers of emotional depth to the film's proceedings. Could the movie have worked as a straight up film? Maybe, but the music is what shotguns it to a completely different stratosphere. In the film's first big musical number, if "Do You Want To Build A Snowman" doesn't make you cry, you have a heart three sizes too small. Don't take my word for it, check it out below!
Shit, I'm tearing up right now just thinking about the moment! The opening of this movie is easily on par with the opening of "UP", which everyone knows might just be the most heart wrenchingly emotional 5 minutes in film history. I'm ranting I know, but I just want people my age to see this flick. It's a story we can all learn from, how it's not the Prince Charming that we should be looking for, it's the people around us who gives us strength, our families, sisters and brothers. It's the first movie I've ever seen where True Love is the love between sisters, a love built on more than initial attraction of "Boy meets Girl", and it's a beautiful thing to behold.
As you can tell, I loved the all hell out of this movie. I'm not kidding, I'm still crying just a little bit. (Any ladies reading this?). Not only is the story itself amazingly crafted; the animation was flawless, the laughs spot on, and the music was the best I've seen out of Disney in years. But to truly understand my appreciation for this movie, you need to hear the backstory of the who's, the what's, and the why's.
I'm a Disney nerd in every sense of the word. I know the history and philosophy behind not only the films, but the theme parks, as well as a shit ton about Walt Disney himself. I believe that all stemmed from the barrage of Disney animated movies that I consumed as a kid. Growing up, and all 90's kids can attest to this, we were in the Second Renaissance of Disney Animation. We had "The Little Mermaid", "Aladdin", "Beauty and The Beast", and "The Lion King" all in consecutive years. Disney was the king of the 90's animation game, until a little company from San Francisco went To Infinity and Beyond. PIXAR storm right nowed onto the animation scene with a vengeance and quickly took over the Box Office when it came to animated films. Their string of hits in the late 90's/early 2000's was astounding, whereas Disney's was faltering. Disney's reliance on hand drawn animation, which is incredibly tiresome and costly to produce, was not receiving the monetary dividends that could make it viable. So after over 70 years, Disney pretty much shut down the production of animated films.
Now, why do I tell you this. Simply because Disney is back on top of their game in a big, bad way and FROZEN is an incredible testament to that. They've gone back to their roots, the classic musical and have formed a film that is so warm hearted, and lovely, and wholesome that even the blackest of hearts can be warmed. Need proof? Check out the song "Let It Go" below. Not only does it highlight some of the best computer animation I've ever seen but this song should very well go down in the pantheon of great Disney songs.
I'm naturally a cynical person. But coming out of this flick, I was so wrapped up with this feeling of warmth that it's actually hard for me to describe. All I can really say is that Disney is king once again of the animation landscape. Between FROZEN and last year's "Wreck It Ralph", they've coaxed more tears out of me than the last scene of "Rudy", and THAT kids is one hell of a dude-cry scene.
There's alot to love about this movie. At last count, I cried three times and laughed an awful lot. I know it sounds sappy as shit but honestly, that's what I've come to expect from Disney movies. They bring order to the world around us through imagination, they smooth off the rough edges of our lives through songs that make our hearts soar, that break through the day to day monotony. I see alot of movies, but FROZEN is one of the few that has stuck with me long after leaving the theater. If you get some time in the next few weeks, check it out. It'll be well worth your time. I'll stake my "Disney Nerd" status on it.
Not the Robertson’s mind you; just the show. The show bores me to tears, by the end of an episode I want to throw my television into the Bayou outside of my house and get on with my life. Now, that hatred has nothing to do with the people on the show, or their beliefs. Seems like a good natured, happy Louisiana family that made a fortune doing what they loved and the show just follows them through their day to day lives. I don’t hate them in the slightest; I just can’t stand television shows like this that seem to have no purpose other than to watch these people live. In my own estimation, that’s a waste of everyone’s time. I’ve got my own life, so watching other people go about theirs isn’t necessarily intriguing television to me.
So, imagine my interest when I’ve woken up two days in a row, checked my Twitter feed, and have seen an outpouring of both anger and support for Phil Robertson after his GQ interview went awry. This chalks up to the most I’ve thought about anyone involved with Duck Dynasty in… well ever. People are screaming to boycott A&E channels over his apparent firing, and a new Southern uprising might be on our hands. But, let’s calm down a bit here folks. In my head this situation is a real life version of those old books by Lemony Snicket called “A Series Of Unfortunate Events” that were huge when I was in Middle School. This whole thing is one snowball that got flipped down a mountain side and just couldn’t be stopped. So, let’s see where this snowball was born shall we.
Unfortunate Event #1: Phil Robertson’s interview with GQ
Now I’m not even going to question why Phil was interviewed by GQ magazine in the first place. Not even gonna touch it. But let’s just deal with the interview itself. In the interview, Phil said (and I’m paraphrasing because I really don’t want to cite my sources here) that this country’s tolerance for sin was out of control; from homosexuality, to bestiality, to people sleeping around with multiple women. Later on, he paraphrased a verse from Corinthians which says that neither the adulterers, idolaters, nor homosexuals would enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
Ok, let’s preface this right off the bat. I do not agree with Phil’s stance on the sinfulness of being Gay. I just don’t kids; to me being Gay is no more a choice than it was for me to be born a guy. It’s a psychological trait that we are either born with or without. Punishing a person for being Gay, as in infringing upon their rights to the same privileges that we “straight” folks have is archaic and barbaric; no different than infringing upon the rights of any group of people to get married based upon their skin color. That’s my stance and as you can tell I don’t take the Bible as word for word literally; mostly because it’s a book written from the Middle East over 2000 years ago. We’ve kinda grown up a bit since then so think to use an ancient text as the basis for our current legislation when it comes to current citizens’ rights is kinda silly. But that’s just me.
Do I think Phil Robertson did anything wrong? Nope, because we as Americans have a right to free speech to say whatever, whenever we want. Phil has that right, as well as the right of practicing and preaching his religion. Those are foundational rights that we as Americans have and rights that should be celebrated. I do not support Phil’s stance, but I do celebrate his right to say as he pleases. Now, that doesn’t mean that he should not have known better. There are certain things that you should know inherently will get people royally pissed off. Using the Bible to spin homosexuality as sinful is one of those things. Now I doubt Phil really cares, I’m sure he subconsciously knew the possible repercussions of his actions. But, when I read this story I immediately cringed because I knew exactly what was going to happen next.
Unfortunate Event #2: The Good Folks at GLAAD Got Involved
This is what shot things into the stratosphere. If these morons had just let this go, nothing would have happened. But no, every special interest group in this entire country can’t wait to pounce on anyone who just so happens to disagree with them. That’s the problem with these groups. Is Phil Robertson a bad guy because he believes that homosexual behavior is sinful? Absolutely not. But does anyone really give two shits about that? Absolutely not. I don’t know Phil, but I do know people like him. They don’t have a malicious bone in their bodies. He’s the kind’ve person who would never do anything to hurt another person. But does GLAAD care about that? Absolutely not. Does taking down this guy benefit the Gay cause? Does it further the rights of Gay people in anyway? Absolutely not. Its simple bashing to bash because they just so happen to disagree and it makes GLAAD feel all big and powerful. Even if they believe they are on the moral high ground, is it worth ruining this guy’s life for it? Absolutely not.
Unfortunate Event #3: A&E Suspends Phil
C’mon guys, there’s no way this took anyone by surprise. Again, do I agree that Phil should be fired? Nope. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t characteristic of the network to cover its own ass when it comes to the show. “Duck Dynasty” is the second highest rated television show on Cable under “The Walking Dead”. D’you what that means kids? That means A LOT of money coming into the network. And when one of your stars goes off in a very popular magazine about his negative views on the homosexual community, it’s going to shake them up a little bit because most times sponsors don’t want to have ads in front of a show that is labeled as “Gay Bashing”. But even if they do not believe in Phil on a philosophical level, they could have stood behind his right to say what he believes. A&E jumped ship to save itself from sinking, it’s a big company and in their eyes throwing one man under the bus and letting him drown is just good business.
So where do we go from here kids? I don’t know. I wake up this morning and before I even get out’ve bed I see BOYCOTT plastered all over my Twitter Feed. Bobby Jindal has put in his two cents and both sides of the issue seem to be sharpening their blades. Again, I’m 100% behind Phil’s right to say whatever pleases, while I also do not agree with his stance. The point of this whole thing is that we as a country love a distraction like this. We love to take sides against “Those Damn Liberals” or those “Idiot Republicans”. And both sides are screaming for the same rights, but because we are on opposite sides we fight one another instead of fighting with each other so that we can truly have the rights that we have bled for. I wish I knew how to wrap this up, because I wish I had an answer. But I don’t. This kind’ve thing just happens, and it’ll keep on happening until we stop this moronic bickering between Americans. Phil Robertson is a good man, he doesn’t deserve this bullshit but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go tear assing around screaming in anger over this. In my eyes, that only causes more problems than good.
Besides, I can’t boycott A&E because I’m hooked on “Shipping Wars”. Now THAT’S some quality Television.
We live in a world of over 6 billion individuals. That’s easy to say but harder to comprehend. That’s 6 billion individual, singular, unique combinations of chromosomes and genetic material all going through their own life events and being pushed through their own combination of influences and pressures. Literally no two people are the same, just as no two people can ever think the same, talk the same, walk the same, balk the same, you get the point. This is an interesting idea to comprehend, but also an essential cog in my argument for which I will explain in 3…2…1…NOW!
Earlier today my Father told me the story of a High School teacher who during a special Christmas themed dress up day at his school, joked about a black student dressing up as Santa Claus. In essence he said something to the effect of, “You can’t dress like that kid, Santa is white!”, for which that teacher was handily punished by the school and I’m sure has undergone his fair share of internet abuse over the last few days. Now, the question dear friends is this, is Santa Claus Black or White? I’m here to say, neither. And here’s why.
Hate to break it to those among us clinging the the child within your souls, but Santa is a figment of your imagination, a construct brought to life each year through the combined efforts of parents across the world, Tim Allen’s movies, and the Coca Cola Company. I know this statement is sacrilege to the 10 year old within me, but it’s true. Santa was your parents kids; they stacked the gifts, hijacked your letters, ate the cookies, and swept up the carrots you left for the reindeer. But those are facts that we all know, now as more or less adults. We know that Santa Claus is an impossibility like the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny. Now, ask any one of us what Santa Claus looks like and I guarantee we’ll say the same thing. Old White dude, fluffy white beard, and a red nose. Basically he looks like everyone’s Grandpa or that drifter you always see sitting at that bus stop in the shady part of town. For us Santa is white because that is the person we grew up seeing and watching. We sat on White dude’s laps, whispering what we wanted for Christmas, we wrote letters to some jolly white guy who lived in the North Pole with a stable of rabid Reindeer and a population of Little People forced into indentured servitude. Easy peasy right?
But here’s the thing. What about the kids that grew up in Africa? They get Santa Claus I’m sure; what do they do then? Do old white dudes get bussed into Zambia every December to duck and cover from Rebel militia fire while simultaneously hearing how Suzy wants a dolly that talks? I doubt it. My point is that most things in this world can be understood better when seen through the avenue of perspective. Each perspective is different, and nine times out’ve ten our perspectives were what we perceived in the world around us growing up. So, if a kid from India grows up with a Santa Claus that’s a bit more on the tan side, does that make his belief any less valid? Is a black child growing up in an impoverished part of town who’s only vision of Santa Claus was when his uncle decided to dress up and surprise him Christmas Eve wrong for envisioning this beacon of merriment and cheer as a white bearded black man? I don’t think so; and I’ll be damned if anyone I know has the balls to tell that happy kid otherwise.
Santa Claus isn’t a person, we know this, but really he’s more than that. He’s a symbol, kinda like Batman. Batman can be anyone because he is more than just a man, he’s a symbol of unrelenting justice that is unbiased and unprejudiced. Now, while there has never been a black Batman there’s really no reason why there couldn’t be one. Not a Black Bruce Wayne because that would break the whole history of the character, but Batman can be anyone, why not a Black guy? Same for Santa Claus. He’s a symbol of joy and giving, a jolly old elf whose sole purpose in existing is to make children happy. Does it matter what pigment the guy’s got? I don’t think so.
I’m not getting racial here kids, oh no, actually the direct opposite. I believe that we should push for a world where we are blind to the color of a person’s skin, so it’s not a White Santa Claus or a Black Santa Claus but instead just Santa Claus because that’s what matters in the end. I believe in the power of Santa Claus, the power to bring happiness to a great many people regardless of their skin color. Race is just a silly thing that divides us, even at a superficial level. Once we can eradicate that moronic barrier between peoples of different backgrounds, perhaps there can truly be Peace on Earth and Goodwill Toward All Men. But I’m an optimist so take all this with a grain of salt and a pound of Fruit Cake. But I’m alright with that because let’s be honest, when is there ever a better time to be optimistic than Christmas?
It’s the last day of Finals for me, thank Christ. The work is alright, I mean I can get through it, and to be honest I have no right to bitch. My schedule’s easier now than it was in High School, so I’m sitting around studying Film theory while the grad student sitting two rows down in the library is losing their minds over MicroBiology or Chemical Engineering or some other insanely difficult subject that I can’t even comprehend in it’s entirety. I can understand the basic classes. Math. History. PE. those I can wrap my head around but the shit that some of these people are taking equally blows my mind and makes me feel like the lowest, most basic form of shit for EVER bitching about my school workload. There’s people out here actively fighting for a career that will change lives and further the development of mankind as a species. Me? I’m sitting around my Screenwriting class making wise cracks about Batman. I was built for college.
But these other people fascinate me, their dedication to each class and subject. That’s something I never had to undergo. I was THAT kid in high school, that one twerp who didn’t have to study for jack shit because for whatever reason i was inherently smarter than most. Granted I read alot and seriously, what the hell else was I going to do? My idea of social interaction was if a girl glanced at me for more than a second or two, I took that as a moral victory. But I was able to get by without doing dick throughout school, and even into college. BRCC was a grade A joke, basically an extended form of high school where teachers took attendance, penalized you points for talking in class, and treated you like you were in the ninth grade. The classes were nothing, if you stayed awake through 80% of them you were fine and dandy. But here, LSU’s a whole other ball game that I wasn’t prepared for. It takes daily dedication to reading the notes, understanding concepts, actually taking the time to proofread and edit papers instead of slapping them together with tooth picks and glue the night before and getting an A. You actually have to, dare I say it… work. Scary right?
And I think I’m the only person this is a revelation too. I run into the guys I went to High School with all the time, well run into/see passingly/say “Hi, what’ve you been up to for the last two years?”. But they’re on the ball, I’m three years into college and I feel like an idiot freshman still trying to figure out what a damn Bluebook is. It’s better though, I had to go through one shit kicker of a learning curve though. And Oh Boy does my grade show it.
Speaking of people from High School. Today I was sitting in the library, going through note cards when I noticed that a group of people that I had actively known two years prior were sitting less than 20 feet from me. These were people I interacted with on a day to day basis, hell I had a major crush on one of the girls who was sitting there with her boyfriend. And that moment I had a momentary thought of crossing the empty space and saying “Hey, remember me!” Then common sense kicked in and I packed up my stuff and skedaddled.
What’s the protocol on something like that? I know I’m showing my unsociable side but seriously. Do you just walk up to them and sit down, ask how they’re doing, just join up and study with these guys who I haven’t said two words to since before the Avengers came out? I honestly don’t know. It feels like an anomaly because all of them have been here for the past two years. When they saw one another the year after High School it wasn’t weird, just like coming back from Summer Vacation all over again. But for me it’s different, it’s like I was the kid who went away for two years and came back completely different. And it’s not even like I went some where awesome that would justify conversation; it’s like I went to a remedial school for two years and finally came back to join the cool kids and only then realized how much of a separation there actually was between us. I can’t imagine they’re the same people they were in High School, which I’m sure is a good thing. And I know for damn certain that I’m not the same scared of my shadow dork that I was in High School. So, what’s my problem? Why is this instigation of age old relationships such a bur in my butt?
I swear it’s that old sense of self depreciation; that same asshole in my head who says I’m a hideous troll that no girl would ever want to talk to, that incessant negativity that is always there for me, ready to leap in the second I try and conjure up anything that even resembles self confidence. It’s like the old Jeremy’s come back to life. In those moments, I feel scared of them laughing at me. I’m terrified of the rejection from the people who’s opinions, at one time, I held in such insanely high regard. In High School, those people were your world, their approval was all that mattered. And I always felt like a discarded sock that didn’t fit anymore, like a misfit toy without an island. But things have changed, I”m not that same terrified kid. I’ve grown up, kinda. I’m more sure of myself than I was, more secure with who I am. So why does that fear keep kicking me in the balls? Collateral damage I guess; radiation still showing damage years down the road, old wounds reopened; pick your metaphor kids.
Welcome to this edition of "Rouge Rant" where the nicest kid in the world gets a lil controversial.
What’s on the docket today? Christmas music. That choral driven wretch that drags it’s crusty ass out’ve the gates of hell every year without fail, never changing, never innovating, just the same manufactured cheerfulness blared through the speakers of every radio, and every station 24/7 for an entire month.
Can you guess which side of the snowflake I fall on here?
There’s nothing inherently wrong with Christmas music, just like there isn’t anything inherently wrong with Lady Gaga music. But I’ll bet if you had to listen to “Applause” 24/7 you’d consider inserting a power drill into your ear too. And if you’ve ever flipped on 102.5 you know exactly what that feels like. How Ryan Seacrest hasn’t blown his brains out on the air after listening to the 5 millionth One Direction song is beyond me, the guy must have the moral fiber of Jesus; that or he’s too busy counting his money and putting product in his hair to even listen to what’s playing.
Let’s think about Christmas music for a second shall we? Name the songs that instantly spring to mind. I’ll bet you can think of about a dozen or so that actually have some distinguishable difference between each other. After that you fall into the 500 different versions of those songs auto tuned and sung by any number of deflating Country or Pop artists who are just one record dud away from stacking boxes at Best Buy. Even with THAT there is nothing inherently wrong with it. People like to make music, people like to get paid for making music, and there’s apparently a shit ton of people in this world who will pay good money to hear the latest Pop star sing songs written before they were even born that everyone on this planet knows. That’s like having someone take a classic movie like “Psycho” and do a shot for shot remake. And you know the crazy part; that actually happened! But it never happened again because just copying and pasting something that already exists is not art, it’s a stencil of true innovation and talent that’s been repackaged as something brand spanking new and fresh. Why do you think no one writes new Christmas music nowadays? Because all we as a society do is buy the old shit. Why innovate when you can just spin out the same old lyrics? Think of all the money you’ll save not paying writers, and musicians, and composers. Hell, figure out a way for a computer to sing on tune and you can cut the human element out’ve the whole thing altogether! Yes, I’m saying that recycled Christmas albums is the first step toward SKYNET and the absolute desolation of the human race. It’s only crazy if it doesn’t happen people. Wake up and smell the gingerbread.
But you know what? Right on people. I’ve always said that was the best part of the American Dream; the right of idiot consumers to do with their disposable income however they damn well please. But do we really need the constant, droning, never ending barrage of the same songs being played over and over again everywhere we go? Whoever came up with the idea for 96.1 to play continuous Christmas music from before Thanksgiving to New Years is an absolute genius and should also be stood up against a wall and shot for letting loose this travesty upon mankind.
Here’s why this is infuriating to me, and also why no matter how close to Christmas it may be, the second I hear “Jingle Bells” on the radio I’m flipping the station for fear of panicking and slamming my truck into a tree. Because Christmas music, in it’s natural form, is an eternally cheery fairy world of snow, and reindeers, and presents, and carolers, and a whole bunch of stuff that does not exist in our world. Christmas is a single day event. It’s one of the few times in the year when the world comes to a halt and families take some time to be together for a while without caring about the swirling world around them. It’s great, a special day which really has no rival. But you know what, that’s one day out’ve 31 in December. What are we doing the rest of the time? Going to work, going to school, dealing with all of our day to day shit and trying to get by. I’m not trying to be morbid it’s just a fact. Life is a constant flow of complications and interactions that take day to day attention; not all of it’s fun but it’s the way it is. Case in point, to feel like the radio is screaming at you “BE HAPPY, IT’S CHRISTMAS” on a daily basis can be somewhat annoying. As everyone knows, the way to get someone to be happy is to most definitely not tell them to cheer up. So the way to get me into the Christmas Spirit is to not blare away “Santa Baby” into my ears. The season is about spending time with my family; not the White Christmas fantasy that the songs promise us but never deliver upon. Christmas is a personal thing, a special time to sit back with loved ones and watch “How The Grinch Stole Christmas” on ABC Family; at least that they only play once or twice a year. Moderation kids, that’s the key to happiness. And some money doesn’t hurt either.
Can I simply turn the radio dial? Yep. And do I? Yep. But I can still dream of a day when Christmas music doesn’t start playing until December 23 and cuts the shit on midnight December 26. So that finally, maybe we could have some peace on Earth and I would feel good will towards men.
Hey kids, it’s Jeremy and today I’m going to tell you a story; a long story that I intended to drag on and on like the end of “Return of the King” but recent revelations have skewed the timeline in the favor of not only me but you Dear Reader as well. So gather round, grab the popcorn, Hell, grab a beer for all I care because Uncle Slayer’s about to spin you the yarn of a boy and girl, and how that boy has been an absolute moron for the last four months of his life.
This blog series, which let’s be honest has a bitchin title, I pitched to myself as a way of cleansing my palate from my relationship woes; woes that have been haunting me since late July and had manifested themselves in every way, shape, and form you can imagine. I’ve cursed, cried, laughed, screamed, been sad, nostalgic, and pissed; all in the hopes that I would eventually climb off this emotional roller coaster of post-breakup trauma and move the fuck on with my life. Well, for a few reasons, that didn’t happen and I spiraled even lower. One night a few weeks back, when I was particularly down in the dumps, I decided to try and vent my feelings on the Internet in a no holds barred expose highlighting the best and worst parts of my torrid love affiar. At least that’s what I told myself. Sounded like a good idea at the time.
To save everyone a lot of aggravation here’s the long and short of it. I met a girl, we became friends, we began to hang out on the reg, we became even better friends, I plotted to steal her from her boyfriend who I severely disliked at the time, I ultimately did, (yay me), we “dated” for five months, I fell in love, we broke up.
There you go kids, that’s the long and short of it. Nothing really special, everyone has that exact same story. So I lost someone I loved, join the club right? But I couldn’t let it go. Even after we called things off I was hell bent on winning her back. So I hung around, I told her I loved her every single day, I wrote her love letters and poems , I brought her bouquets of roses, all the while knowing that she was seeing her Ex-Boyfriend. Knowing but not realizing she had chosen someone else, knowing but ignoring because I enjoyed the little fairy tale construct in my head. I enjoyed going home and envisioning that deep down she really wanted to be with me. It made me feel desired, it made me feel special.
So that’s what this series of blog’s really was, an attempt to woo her back into my arms through a poetic retelling of our relationship. It was a Emo fueled ballad of the repressed and I poured my heart into the story that had been replaying in my head for months, all my love and loss and anger. Trust me, the finished product would have been a sight for the ages. Oh and I was gonna go deep, by the end I’m pretty sure I hoped to either have the entire world thinking I was the greatest guy this side of Jesus or she would instantly swoon into my arms once again. Or both; both would have been nice too.
But then reality paid a visit and gave me a swift kick in the balls, and suddenly I saw the world for what it was; like Neo finally getting his ass out’ve the Matrix. For the last four months, the only thing I have been writing or caring about have been events that took place almost a year ago. I was pining for the past when the future was dancing in front of me like those idiots spinning signs at Little Caesars. It was screaming, “Hey moron! She doesn’t love you! But it’s cool, there’s a lot of cool shit this way, so stop walking backwards!” That’s what I was doing, scared to walk forwards for fear of losing sight of what was long gone behind me. And because of that I’ve missed out on a lot of opportunities that have been afforded to me. I jacked around with my school because I was depressed and now I’m paying the price wasting away in the library studying my ass off to hopefully pass my classes I should be aceing. I neglected my family. My father and I had the worst fight we’ve ever had over this girl. The only thing stopping us from punching it out was my mother between us. But my father was right. He saw what this girl was doing to me. He saw me not smile for weeks and he was terrified that I would do something to hurt myself. He was right. And I’m so sorry. Because that night I was willing to walk out on my family because of this silly crush I had. Like I’ve said, and I’ll say it to the end of time, I’m an idiot.
So this dear friends will be the last edition of “Happily Ever Aftermath”. I know James enjoyed reading them immensely, but I plan on filling in the blank aspects of the story on a future episode of the podcast. I appreciated his support throughout all of this, Ricky’s too. My boys have had my back since day one and I wish I could express how profoundly good it feels to have friends that stick with you through the bull shit.
I’m going to write on the blog, don’t get me wrong. I’ll write about what’s happening with me now, what’s on my mind, what I think. I’ll write about the future and try to build instead of admire the ruins of what’s been left behind. Because I’m done writing about all that garbage. It was a fun ass ride but the story’s over. I’m closing the book.
