I don't have bananas. I need bananas. I don't have gala apples. I need gala apples. I don't have Bartlett pears. I need Bartlett pears. I don't have carrot chips. I need carrot chips (or baby carrots. I've become fond of them lately). I don't have pita bread. I need pita bread. I don't have Yoplait Greek strawberry yogurt. I need Yoplait Greek strawberry yogurt. I have roasted garlic hummus. I like it. But I need other hummus. I'm almost out of Cheerios. I need more Cheerios.
I have library books. I also have library books to return. And I need to pick up library books that will begin research on my second book. I haven't yet cycled my way through the rest of my mp3 player. I need to do that, to take pleasure in having deleted everything that was on there, and starting again and finally making it the way I want it to be.
(The first paragraph is dedicated to my first grade teacher, Mrs. Turner, at Stirling Park Elementary in Casselberry, Florida who had set forth a writing prompt about what we would buy if we had all the money in the world. I answered with the first thing I would buy (I don't remember what it was), and then followed up with each subsequent purchase, beginning with "After I buy...." whatever it was. I received my writing journal back with "Too many 'After I buys'" as her comment. Well, Mrs. Turner, I can do it any way I want now. And I have my first book to prove it.)
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Lost My Dream Girl. I Hope There's Another One.
Last Wednesday, after spending most of the afternoon at IKEA in Burbank, and then wiping out two gift cards and paying some of my own cash at Barnes & Noble for 7 books and a magazine ("The Normal School," the most unique literary magazine I've seen in years), we stopped at a $1-only used bookstore near Fuddrucker's, where we were going to eat.
I ended up paying $9.88 there, for such as books as "The Brethren" (about the Supreme Court from the 1969-1975 terms), volume 2 of Richard Nixon's memoirs (The White House years), and "On the Road with Charles Kuralt." But those, even though they are always important because they are books, weren't even remotely important compared to what happened.
Meridith came up to me as I was on the right side of the store, looking at those shelves, and told me there had been a woman, about my age, at the counter, though she had only seen the back of her. The woman had brought books up to the counter and the guy ringing it all up said, "Only five?" The woman replied, "Well, I bought 12 last week."
Damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it!!!
If Meridith had seen more of her and could recognize her, I would have asked her to follow her, bring her back, and I would have seriously proposed marriage right then and there.
That's why, on all my profiles on a few dating websites I signed up for (the most convenient being OkCupid, because it's free), I added this: "You must love books, or be willing to love books."
I ended up paying $9.88 there, for such as books as "The Brethren" (about the Supreme Court from the 1969-1975 terms), volume 2 of Richard Nixon's memoirs (The White House years), and "On the Road with Charles Kuralt." But those, even though they are always important because they are books, weren't even remotely important compared to what happened.
Meridith came up to me as I was on the right side of the store, looking at those shelves, and told me there had been a woman, about my age, at the counter, though she had only seen the back of her. The woman had brought books up to the counter and the guy ringing it all up said, "Only five?" The woman replied, "Well, I bought 12 last week."
Damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it!!!
If Meridith had seen more of her and could recognize her, I would have asked her to follow her, bring her back, and I would have seriously proposed marriage right then and there.
That's why, on all my profiles on a few dating websites I signed up for (the most convenient being OkCupid, because it's free), I added this: "You must love books, or be willing to love books."
Monday, January 3, 2011
God's Dandruff
It snowed yesterday in Santa Clarita, especially in our Saugus neighborhood. For a while, through the afternoon, the snow didn't really stick to anything, then it did. And I achieved many of the goals of my imagined childhood, save for building a snowman. I made a snowball and threw it at my sister, who did the same to me later. It's only fair. I threw a snowball against a tree. I stuck my tongue out to catch the snowflakes and was immediately, happily, reminded of a boy's declaration in "A Charlie Brown Christmas" (I forgot which boy) of "needs sugar."
I did not, however, accomplish my greatest wish. I forgot to not pee for the entire day, and therefore I could not write my name in the snow.
I did not, however, accomplish my greatest wish. I forgot to not pee for the entire day, and therefore I could not write my name in the snow.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Who Are You?
Yesterday, during a spate of boring errands with my family (though the company is never boring, and neither was my salad lunch at Panera), I stood at a bird cage inside PetSmart, admiring a cute blue parakeet that kept staring at me, and vice versa. After our finch Jules died a few days ago, no. And especially not with two dogs in the house. They're more understanding of birds now, but still, with parakeets needing to also be outside the cage to be played with, it's not worth the risk this time. Our dog Beaumont, back in Florida, didn't mind the birds we had. He was loving, but mostly into himself anyway.
Anyway, I went to look at this tall cage that basically introduced the bird section, and there was a $599.99 orange-and-greenish bird inside that cage. One of the employees, a girl who looked like my age, came around and asked if I needed any help. I said no, and she said, "Ok." But it wasn't your typical ok, like a dismissive ok. It was more like one of gentle mocking disappointment, like "Okaaaay." Not sure how much gentle mocking was involved, but she captured my interest right away, especially when she went to the side of that expensive bird's cage and began talking to it. Now clearly she loves this job, and this bird. But how much of that was perhaps a show for me? Was she trying to impress me? Was she interested right off? I don't really know, since I'm not good yet at accurately reading the intentions of women. I'll bet that when I read this entry a few months later or even a year later, I might laugh at that statement, maybe being better at it. But I wonder if she was interested in me in that one moment. If I was anyone else, an older gent with disturbingly wild hair, she might have given a simple "Ok" and moved on. But to go from me to the bird just like that? I don't know. I know with her being an employee of PetSmart, things have to be sold, but it's unlikely she would have received any commission from finding this bird a home. Do they have commission for things like that?
She did help me with two things. First, she showed me that I want a woman who is interested in birds, animals, whatever. In 7th grade, I dated Irene, whose house was a menagerie of animals, almost a farm. I loved it. That's part of who I am.
Secondly, I don't want to go another year without someone. I'm going to be 27 in March. I want my Nora Charles. I want my Amy Adams. I want my Erin O'Brien (Hi, Erin!). I know it may not be easy at the start, I know it will take time, but I want to seriously start the search. It's time.
I hope that girl said "Ok" like that and was interacting with the bird like that because she was interested. I wasn't really sure how to react in that moment, but I thank her for reminding me of one of the major priorities in my life this year. My first book will be out in February, I'm gradually reaching less than 200 lbs., I know the full-time career I want, and I'm thinking hard about what I want to write next (Another book of essays? A play?). Yes, it's time.
Anyway, I went to look at this tall cage that basically introduced the bird section, and there was a $599.99 orange-and-greenish bird inside that cage. One of the employees, a girl who looked like my age, came around and asked if I needed any help. I said no, and she said, "Ok." But it wasn't your typical ok, like a dismissive ok. It was more like one of gentle mocking disappointment, like "Okaaaay." Not sure how much gentle mocking was involved, but she captured my interest right away, especially when she went to the side of that expensive bird's cage and began talking to it. Now clearly she loves this job, and this bird. But how much of that was perhaps a show for me? Was she trying to impress me? Was she interested right off? I don't really know, since I'm not good yet at accurately reading the intentions of women. I'll bet that when I read this entry a few months later or even a year later, I might laugh at that statement, maybe being better at it. But I wonder if she was interested in me in that one moment. If I was anyone else, an older gent with disturbingly wild hair, she might have given a simple "Ok" and moved on. But to go from me to the bird just like that? I don't know. I know with her being an employee of PetSmart, things have to be sold, but it's unlikely she would have received any commission from finding this bird a home. Do they have commission for things like that?
She did help me with two things. First, she showed me that I want a woman who is interested in birds, animals, whatever. In 7th grade, I dated Irene, whose house was a menagerie of animals, almost a farm. I loved it. That's part of who I am.
Secondly, I don't want to go another year without someone. I'm going to be 27 in March. I want my Nora Charles. I want my Amy Adams. I want my Erin O'Brien (Hi, Erin!). I know it may not be easy at the start, I know it will take time, but I want to seriously start the search. It's time.
I hope that girl said "Ok" like that and was interacting with the bird like that because she was interested. I wasn't really sure how to react in that moment, but I thank her for reminding me of one of the major priorities in my life this year. My first book will be out in February, I'm gradually reaching less than 200 lbs., I know the full-time career I want, and I'm thinking hard about what I want to write next (Another book of essays? A play?). Yes, it's time.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
The Mini Pinball Wizards
They gathered around like moths to a flame.
Actually, around a pinball machine. My pinball machine. Fishing-themed.
I couldn't confidently ascertain their ages, even though the DJ at Skating Plus in Ventura on that pre-New Year's Eve day had called for rink races about a half hour prior, separate age groups joining in the mad dash around, and sometimes around again (for the older kids, two laps), and it was easy to see the demographics of the place for that day. But they looked to be about six or seven years old, maybe eight. My audience. All boys. A curious audience. I always adore a curious audience.
I plugged 50 cents into the machine and the game began. The plunger was actually shaped as a fishing rod and all you had to do was press a button on the top, and the ball would launch. Easy enough, and certainly easier to operate than the Nightmare On Elm Street machine to the left of the X-Files machine, which was to the left of me, and which I had played before. It was ok, but nothing particularly exciting. This machine, however, excited me. It was easy to operate, and it didn't require strenuous effort. I don't mind strenuous effort if the machine is well-calibrated, and this one was, but it called for a more easygoing style, my kind of style.
The kids watched as the ball went around the board, as the flippers shot the ball into parts I hoped would reap high points. And then the questions began:
"What's a long cast?"
"What's a short cast?"
Both easy to answer. The long cast, in the matter of this game, is when the ball goes completely around the board before reaching the flippers again. The short cast is when I immediately shot the ball into the hole almost directly above the right flipper for easy points.
They asked about the mechanics of the game, and they were fascinated by the multiball function, which I achieved many times. One kid, upon seeing it lit up on the machine's screen, informed me that I had to reach 26,000,000 for a free game. Easily reached, the game made a sharp, clacking sound and I had won my free game. During that game, the points to reach for a free game became 31,000,000, which I never accomplished. A little too difficult when you're only at 10,000,000. Not that the kids broke my concentration at any time (we even talked a little bit about basketball, and I expressed my recent preference for the New York Knicks, not because of how they've been playing recently, but because, to me, they embody a passion for basketball I've been looking for, should I wish to attach myself to a team after getting back into the game, watching it anyway. And after watching the Knicks, I do), but this wasn't the type of pinball machine I was playing for a high score. I could easily do that on Cruisin' Exotica, which was right across from the table my mom and I were sitting at, watching my dad and Meridith skate.
After the free game, I dug two more quarters out of my left pocket and asked the kids, "Want to see that again?" They did.
Being a substitute campus supervisor at my dad's middle school, I enjoy seeing that generation interact. I always hope for there to be little ruckus during the day, and I mostly get that. I could never teach, though. I never want to. I like being outside, where the kids act more naturally. In a classroom, there's expectations from teacher to student, and the student has more to worry about than merely what they're having for lunch and who's bothering the hell out of them today.
These little kids around me at the pinball machine, I don't know if their parents noticed, and if they did, they probably saw what I've been good at all this time. I'm good with kids. I have an instinct for who they are, what their personalities are like. I can figure them out right away. With those middle school kids, if I talk to them, I know I can somewhat level with them, while retaining my authoritative state as a campus supervisor. With these little kids, I didn't feel the need to be cutesy. They asked questions, and I answered them, simple enough. They got the gist of the game right away after I told them what a long cast and a short cast was, and just like me, they got really into the game when the multiball function was activated, keeping as close watch on the three balls rolling around the board as I was.
I loved their company. Somehow, I got them, and they got me. I was just one of them for those 20 minutes or so, because I'm completely enamored with pinball machines. After the final free game was over, well, that was that. I said to them, "Later," and I went back to my table to continue reading the 2005 Food Issue of The Oxford American that I had brought with me. I couldn't be expected to watch skating the entire time, and the more I read, the better my days are.
There was one other kid I liked, 10 or 11 years old, maybe 12 (I'm really good at determining ages, as you see). I was playing Cruisin' Exotica, the machine on the left, because the steering wheel on its twin to its right was far too loose, and I had trouble steering in the Vegas stage. Before this particular game, on this particular machine, I had won a #2 spot on the top #10 list for Hong Kong medium, which starts off the Cruisin' Exotica mode if you choose it. During this game, I was at the airport, rolling under a landing 747, and the kid sitting next to me, watching me play, said, "If you're in 2nd or 3rd place, just take your foot off the gas and put it right back on for it to go faster." I never knew that, and I replied, "Thanks, man!" It worked! All this time, I had thought that once you press down on the gas, your foot stays there, and that's all there was to it. As fast as the car goes, that's the speed, I thought. This was amazing. I also scored the #9 spot on that top 10 list. Thanks, kid.
10 pinball games that day (including two free games of T2 at the bowling alley next door, and a pool-themed machine, complete with a large cue ball), as many games of Cruisin' Exotica as people left quarters in the machine (sometimes I had to put in an additional quarter, sometimes two), and burgeoning minds watching me. Add to all of that the first half of the Knicks/Magic game that night, which I Tivo'd and got up to halftime before I went to bed, and it was a perfect day.
Actually, around a pinball machine. My pinball machine. Fishing-themed.
I couldn't confidently ascertain their ages, even though the DJ at Skating Plus in Ventura on that pre-New Year's Eve day had called for rink races about a half hour prior, separate age groups joining in the mad dash around, and sometimes around again (for the older kids, two laps), and it was easy to see the demographics of the place for that day. But they looked to be about six or seven years old, maybe eight. My audience. All boys. A curious audience. I always adore a curious audience.
I plugged 50 cents into the machine and the game began. The plunger was actually shaped as a fishing rod and all you had to do was press a button on the top, and the ball would launch. Easy enough, and certainly easier to operate than the Nightmare On Elm Street machine to the left of the X-Files machine, which was to the left of me, and which I had played before. It was ok, but nothing particularly exciting. This machine, however, excited me. It was easy to operate, and it didn't require strenuous effort. I don't mind strenuous effort if the machine is well-calibrated, and this one was, but it called for a more easygoing style, my kind of style.
The kids watched as the ball went around the board, as the flippers shot the ball into parts I hoped would reap high points. And then the questions began:
"What's a long cast?"
"What's a short cast?"
Both easy to answer. The long cast, in the matter of this game, is when the ball goes completely around the board before reaching the flippers again. The short cast is when I immediately shot the ball into the hole almost directly above the right flipper for easy points.
They asked about the mechanics of the game, and they were fascinated by the multiball function, which I achieved many times. One kid, upon seeing it lit up on the machine's screen, informed me that I had to reach 26,000,000 for a free game. Easily reached, the game made a sharp, clacking sound and I had won my free game. During that game, the points to reach for a free game became 31,000,000, which I never accomplished. A little too difficult when you're only at 10,000,000. Not that the kids broke my concentration at any time (we even talked a little bit about basketball, and I expressed my recent preference for the New York Knicks, not because of how they've been playing recently, but because, to me, they embody a passion for basketball I've been looking for, should I wish to attach myself to a team after getting back into the game, watching it anyway. And after watching the Knicks, I do), but this wasn't the type of pinball machine I was playing for a high score. I could easily do that on Cruisin' Exotica, which was right across from the table my mom and I were sitting at, watching my dad and Meridith skate.
After the free game, I dug two more quarters out of my left pocket and asked the kids, "Want to see that again?" They did.
Being a substitute campus supervisor at my dad's middle school, I enjoy seeing that generation interact. I always hope for there to be little ruckus during the day, and I mostly get that. I could never teach, though. I never want to. I like being outside, where the kids act more naturally. In a classroom, there's expectations from teacher to student, and the student has more to worry about than merely what they're having for lunch and who's bothering the hell out of them today.
These little kids around me at the pinball machine, I don't know if their parents noticed, and if they did, they probably saw what I've been good at all this time. I'm good with kids. I have an instinct for who they are, what their personalities are like. I can figure them out right away. With those middle school kids, if I talk to them, I know I can somewhat level with them, while retaining my authoritative state as a campus supervisor. With these little kids, I didn't feel the need to be cutesy. They asked questions, and I answered them, simple enough. They got the gist of the game right away after I told them what a long cast and a short cast was, and just like me, they got really into the game when the multiball function was activated, keeping as close watch on the three balls rolling around the board as I was.
I loved their company. Somehow, I got them, and they got me. I was just one of them for those 20 minutes or so, because I'm completely enamored with pinball machines. After the final free game was over, well, that was that. I said to them, "Later," and I went back to my table to continue reading the 2005 Food Issue of The Oxford American that I had brought with me. I couldn't be expected to watch skating the entire time, and the more I read, the better my days are.
There was one other kid I liked, 10 or 11 years old, maybe 12 (I'm really good at determining ages, as you see). I was playing Cruisin' Exotica, the machine on the left, because the steering wheel on its twin to its right was far too loose, and I had trouble steering in the Vegas stage. Before this particular game, on this particular machine, I had won a #2 spot on the top #10 list for Hong Kong medium, which starts off the Cruisin' Exotica mode if you choose it. During this game, I was at the airport, rolling under a landing 747, and the kid sitting next to me, watching me play, said, "If you're in 2nd or 3rd place, just take your foot off the gas and put it right back on for it to go faster." I never knew that, and I replied, "Thanks, man!" It worked! All this time, I had thought that once you press down on the gas, your foot stays there, and that's all there was to it. As fast as the car goes, that's the speed, I thought. This was amazing. I also scored the #9 spot on that top 10 list. Thanks, kid.
10 pinball games that day (including two free games of T2 at the bowling alley next door, and a pool-themed machine, complete with a large cue ball), as many games of Cruisin' Exotica as people left quarters in the machine (sometimes I had to put in an additional quarter, sometimes two), and burgeoning minds watching me. Add to all of that the first half of the Knicks/Magic game that night, which I Tivo'd and got up to halftime before I went to bed, and it was a perfect day.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Which One?
A couple of weeks ago, I came up with a pickup line that at least suits me. Since those couple of weeks ago, I've been analyzing it for kind of maximum effectiveness, figuring out which words would work best for me.
The original incarnation is: "So, what'd I miss before we met?"
I like this, but I'm iffy about the "we". I would only be inclined to use the "we" if I was interested in the woman right away. If I found something interesting about her, but wasn't interested in the entire her right away, yet still wanted to know more, I'd likely use this one:
"So, what'd I miss before you met me?"
Now here's the tightrope of this one: By using this, it may convey the confidence I have. Yet, it may also be construed as egotistical. I'm not sure yet.
I haven't had the chance yet to use either one, so for now, I'll ruminate. Both of them are as fine-tuned as I can get them, so maybe it just depends on the woman's perception. Depending on the woman, I'll chance it with either one.
The original incarnation is: "So, what'd I miss before we met?"
I like this, but I'm iffy about the "we". I would only be inclined to use the "we" if I was interested in the woman right away. If I found something interesting about her, but wasn't interested in the entire her right away, yet still wanted to know more, I'd likely use this one:
"So, what'd I miss before you met me?"
Now here's the tightrope of this one: By using this, it may convey the confidence I have. Yet, it may also be construed as egotistical. I'm not sure yet.
I haven't had the chance yet to use either one, so for now, I'll ruminate. Both of them are as fine-tuned as I can get them, so maybe it just depends on the woman's perception. Depending on the woman, I'll chance it with either one.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Something Has Changed
Let me start with a question: Does the feeling one gets on rollercoasters correlate to sex? Don't snicker. I'm new, and still untapped. I'll get to the reason for that question later.
On Thursday, I had it out with my mother. Well, Mom didn't really respond during my passionate tirade beyond a few compulsory "Well, I did this," and "I did that," but she did ask my opinion on 28 years of tumultuous marriage, of which I've witnessed 23 of those years. Everything that I've thought, every annoyance I've had at Mom and Dad's bickering, every explosive fight between them that I've cowered from, every instance where Mom spent six hours fuming over some small thing that Dad did (and I know it may not have been a small thing to Mom, but you've got to set your priorities in life, especially when it's been a repeat offense, like him forgetting somewhere she wanted him to stop on the way home from work), all of it came pouring out for 20 minutes straight. And after, I felt complete relief. I felt completely new. I felt like I had truly been reborn, that I had entered a new phase in my life. I determined that I would let nothing bother me in my life anymore. In the weeks leading up to this, I began to let my parents' squabbling bother me less and less. I used to want to know exactly what's kept their marriage together by a very thin string, or why Dad was attracted to Mom, but I'm never going to find out. There's no answer. All I can do now is concentrate fully on what I want in my own life, and that includes my own relationship, whenever that might be, but not too long now.
That night, I had a dream that I was in color, and people in fedoras and other diners at a restaurant were in black-and-white. And I couldn't relate to any of them. And I realized that there is a generational difference, that what was good for those people back then, and my parents, it's not good for me. I want to be attentive to a mate. I want someone who fascinates me every day, who makes me shake my head in wonder and think, "What will the next day bring? Because I want more of that."
The next day was the first day of the rest of my new life, and I was surprised, stunned and flattered. It began with someone on Facebook surprised that I had taken a job, saying, "I thought you were a man of leisure." I had never thought of myself that way before, but I am now. After I described to him the job of a substitute campus supervisor (which includes being paid for reading, because depending on how many students there are to take to the office, there's a lot of downtime), he said it sounded like something out of "Office Space," and at first, I didn't understand. But as the day went on, I realized he was right. I have the same type of job Peter Gibbons had at the end of the movie, a job he loved. And I'm just as happy as he was.
The day skyrocketed when I went into room 624 to pick up a kid to take to the office at the request of one of the assistant principals. As I turned to walk out, I heard a "hello" from the left side of the room, and it was one of the girls in the class. As I walked out, another waved to me. Now, I know I lost a lot of weight, from 260 lbs. to 208 so far. But I didn't expect this, and I was totally floored and flattered. And I love it. Me, considered attractive by others. Those girls are out of my legal jurisdiction, so I'm obviously not going to pursue anything further, but now that I've impressed that demographic, I'm going to work on my own.
The wonderful feeling I got from that instance stretched into the next day, Saturday, the next greatest day of my life. Meridith and I went to Six Flags Magic Mountain, because they were having a toy drive in which you donate a toy or two worth $15, and you get free admission. We waited at the front gate, deciding to stand instead of sitting near one of the trees around the entrance, and it was easy because with all the weight I lost, my feet don't hurt anymore if I walk great lengths, as I did during the day, or if I stand for nearly an hour, as I did then. Meridith and I had a great conversation with one of the hosts wandering the entrance talking to people, and we talked about the cheerleaders who had come to the park to perform in competition at the Golden Bear Theatre, about how I'd be more impressed, and probably more aroused, if those cheerleaders could do the routines in heels, and also about the park itself, about the recent changes in management, the upcoming new rides, and the re-theming of Superman: The Escape. Great guy. Meridith told me that he had said that he's on Facebook, and I looked last night, but couldn't find him. I'll look again later today.
Our first ride at the park was on Ninja, which immediately became my new favorite ride, because it felt almost orgasmic with the sharp turns and drops. At the end, I asked out loud, "Does anyone have a cigarette?" I tried that line again at the end of Viper later in the day, foreplay before going on Ninja for a fourth time, and someone laughed. Those forces on Ninja feel soooooooo good. I hadn't been that happy in months, and I told Meridith later, not only because of the ride, "Why shouldn't I live my life like I'm at a Disney theme park? We don't know why the hell we're here, so let's do as much as possible that we love."
Before Ninja, we went to the Skytower, which now is a museum of sorts, with pieces of rides from Magic Mountain's past, as well as photos of what it had decades ago, and found that it wasn't open yet. After three times on Ninja (I appreciate good loving at that near-late hour of the morning), we went back to the Skytower and found it was open. I had a great conversation with the female elevator operator about how boring the Santa Clarita Valley is, and immediately expressed my sympathies when she said that she lives in Antelope Valley. I couldn't feel any sparks between us (I'm always looking, but subtly), but she was nice. On the way down, I talked to a blonde-haired girl working the elevator, and we got to talking about New Year's Eve. I told her that it's fun on New Year's Day to go on YouTube and see the videos people shot at the park on New Year's Eve. She said she had already asked her boss for that day off, and I told her that now, she'd better be really on top of it. Nice girl as well, but I liked the first one better. Unfortunately, I didn't see her outside of the elevators before we headed elsewhere.
During the day, Meridith and I got to talking about our futures and....I'm seriously thinking about having kids one day. I'm not ready for it right now. But you know, it would be nice to introduce a new generation to all the books and movies I have loved. And I learned some surprising things from her that were probably not brought to me because before the forced weight loss, and during all the years before, I had been vehement about remaining single.
First, Meridith told me that if I had kids, she would spoil them rotten. After our fourth ride on Ninja, as it was beginning to get dark, I jokingly asked her to be specific about what she would spoil them with, so I could save money. Not to be a cheapskate, mind you, but I was just curious. I told her that if there were any books involved, the kid(s)'s dad would probably steal them away from them. I know though that boy or girl, or boys or girls (one or two; I'm not sure yet, but three and four seem like too much to me), they're going to be a lot smarter than I am, and that's not scary unsettling, but just scary and amazing. I started reading when I was 2 years old; the next generation's probably going to have a bookcase installed in the womb, and coming out having read all of Dickens and probably many of Roald Dahl's books, too.
While we were sitting near the lockers in massage chairs that cost far too much to put cash into ($1 for a 3-minute massage? Nah), Meridith said that when we were at Chick-fil-A some weeks ago, Mom had seen two women at a table near us. One was a mother, and the other was her son's girlfriend, and the girlfriend had decided just like that to go out to lunch with most likely her future mother-in-law, and it was a very friendly outing, according to my mother. Apparently, Mom wants someone that's like a daughter to her. Well, that was naturally what I was thinking. Someone like that for Mom, and someone like a sister to Meridith. I wouldn't do it any other way. And I hope it'll be that way on the other side as well, because I'm not getting involved in all those tiresome "Oh, my mother-in-law is so terrible" jokes. I can be funny, but not like that.
That night, or most likely very early this morning, I had a dream in which there was another set of middle school girls, and the one comment I kept hearing above all others was that, to them, I was a "hottie." Me. That. Me? That? I'm still stunned, but I think I must have freed more than just everything I've kept inside up until late Thursday afternoon. I think I fashioned an entirely new personality for myself that I began embracing on that very day. For example, at Six Flags, I unashamedly wore a Batman cape that my sister had won at Whack-a-Mole and gave to me. I loved that about the park that day. A lot of people were wearing capes, which meant there were a lot of superheroes in the park.
This morning, I watched "Julie & Julia" with writer/director Nora Ephron's audio commentary, and I was utterly charmed by the movie all over again. And, watching Amy Adams, I determined that besides everything else I'm looking for (I want a rapport like William Powell and Myrna Loy had in "The Thin Man"), I might seek an Amy Adams-type. She's heart-wrenchingly beautiful to me.
I love my new life. And no matter what happens, no matter how many further arguments Mom and Dad have (such as the one they had a little while ago, which will continue in spurts throughout the day), I'm looking out for me. I'm the only one in this body (and it's becoming such a good-looking body, too), and I need to do what satisfies me. I partly have the job I want, I know it's the kind of job I want full-time, so now I need to seek out the other half of the life I want. For now anyway, my one true love in life is reading, but I look forward to that eventually changing.
On Thursday, I had it out with my mother. Well, Mom didn't really respond during my passionate tirade beyond a few compulsory "Well, I did this," and "I did that," but she did ask my opinion on 28 years of tumultuous marriage, of which I've witnessed 23 of those years. Everything that I've thought, every annoyance I've had at Mom and Dad's bickering, every explosive fight between them that I've cowered from, every instance where Mom spent six hours fuming over some small thing that Dad did (and I know it may not have been a small thing to Mom, but you've got to set your priorities in life, especially when it's been a repeat offense, like him forgetting somewhere she wanted him to stop on the way home from work), all of it came pouring out for 20 minutes straight. And after, I felt complete relief. I felt completely new. I felt like I had truly been reborn, that I had entered a new phase in my life. I determined that I would let nothing bother me in my life anymore. In the weeks leading up to this, I began to let my parents' squabbling bother me less and less. I used to want to know exactly what's kept their marriage together by a very thin string, or why Dad was attracted to Mom, but I'm never going to find out. There's no answer. All I can do now is concentrate fully on what I want in my own life, and that includes my own relationship, whenever that might be, but not too long now.
That night, I had a dream that I was in color, and people in fedoras and other diners at a restaurant were in black-and-white. And I couldn't relate to any of them. And I realized that there is a generational difference, that what was good for those people back then, and my parents, it's not good for me. I want to be attentive to a mate. I want someone who fascinates me every day, who makes me shake my head in wonder and think, "What will the next day bring? Because I want more of that."
The next day was the first day of the rest of my new life, and I was surprised, stunned and flattered. It began with someone on Facebook surprised that I had taken a job, saying, "I thought you were a man of leisure." I had never thought of myself that way before, but I am now. After I described to him the job of a substitute campus supervisor (which includes being paid for reading, because depending on how many students there are to take to the office, there's a lot of downtime), he said it sounded like something out of "Office Space," and at first, I didn't understand. But as the day went on, I realized he was right. I have the same type of job Peter Gibbons had at the end of the movie, a job he loved. And I'm just as happy as he was.
The day skyrocketed when I went into room 624 to pick up a kid to take to the office at the request of one of the assistant principals. As I turned to walk out, I heard a "hello" from the left side of the room, and it was one of the girls in the class. As I walked out, another waved to me. Now, I know I lost a lot of weight, from 260 lbs. to 208 so far. But I didn't expect this, and I was totally floored and flattered. And I love it. Me, considered attractive by others. Those girls are out of my legal jurisdiction, so I'm obviously not going to pursue anything further, but now that I've impressed that demographic, I'm going to work on my own.
The wonderful feeling I got from that instance stretched into the next day, Saturday, the next greatest day of my life. Meridith and I went to Six Flags Magic Mountain, because they were having a toy drive in which you donate a toy or two worth $15, and you get free admission. We waited at the front gate, deciding to stand instead of sitting near one of the trees around the entrance, and it was easy because with all the weight I lost, my feet don't hurt anymore if I walk great lengths, as I did during the day, or if I stand for nearly an hour, as I did then. Meridith and I had a great conversation with one of the hosts wandering the entrance talking to people, and we talked about the cheerleaders who had come to the park to perform in competition at the Golden Bear Theatre, about how I'd be more impressed, and probably more aroused, if those cheerleaders could do the routines in heels, and also about the park itself, about the recent changes in management, the upcoming new rides, and the re-theming of Superman: The Escape. Great guy. Meridith told me that he had said that he's on Facebook, and I looked last night, but couldn't find him. I'll look again later today.
Our first ride at the park was on Ninja, which immediately became my new favorite ride, because it felt almost orgasmic with the sharp turns and drops. At the end, I asked out loud, "Does anyone have a cigarette?" I tried that line again at the end of Viper later in the day, foreplay before going on Ninja for a fourth time, and someone laughed. Those forces on Ninja feel soooooooo good. I hadn't been that happy in months, and I told Meridith later, not only because of the ride, "Why shouldn't I live my life like I'm at a Disney theme park? We don't know why the hell we're here, so let's do as much as possible that we love."
Before Ninja, we went to the Skytower, which now is a museum of sorts, with pieces of rides from Magic Mountain's past, as well as photos of what it had decades ago, and found that it wasn't open yet. After three times on Ninja (I appreciate good loving at that near-late hour of the morning), we went back to the Skytower and found it was open. I had a great conversation with the female elevator operator about how boring the Santa Clarita Valley is, and immediately expressed my sympathies when she said that she lives in Antelope Valley. I couldn't feel any sparks between us (I'm always looking, but subtly), but she was nice. On the way down, I talked to a blonde-haired girl working the elevator, and we got to talking about New Year's Eve. I told her that it's fun on New Year's Day to go on YouTube and see the videos people shot at the park on New Year's Eve. She said she had already asked her boss for that day off, and I told her that now, she'd better be really on top of it. Nice girl as well, but I liked the first one better. Unfortunately, I didn't see her outside of the elevators before we headed elsewhere.
During the day, Meridith and I got to talking about our futures and....I'm seriously thinking about having kids one day. I'm not ready for it right now. But you know, it would be nice to introduce a new generation to all the books and movies I have loved. And I learned some surprising things from her that were probably not brought to me because before the forced weight loss, and during all the years before, I had been vehement about remaining single.
First, Meridith told me that if I had kids, she would spoil them rotten. After our fourth ride on Ninja, as it was beginning to get dark, I jokingly asked her to be specific about what she would spoil them with, so I could save money. Not to be a cheapskate, mind you, but I was just curious. I told her that if there were any books involved, the kid(s)'s dad would probably steal them away from them. I know though that boy or girl, or boys or girls (one or two; I'm not sure yet, but three and four seem like too much to me), they're going to be a lot smarter than I am, and that's not scary unsettling, but just scary and amazing. I started reading when I was 2 years old; the next generation's probably going to have a bookcase installed in the womb, and coming out having read all of Dickens and probably many of Roald Dahl's books, too.
While we were sitting near the lockers in massage chairs that cost far too much to put cash into ($1 for a 3-minute massage? Nah), Meridith said that when we were at Chick-fil-A some weeks ago, Mom had seen two women at a table near us. One was a mother, and the other was her son's girlfriend, and the girlfriend had decided just like that to go out to lunch with most likely her future mother-in-law, and it was a very friendly outing, according to my mother. Apparently, Mom wants someone that's like a daughter to her. Well, that was naturally what I was thinking. Someone like that for Mom, and someone like a sister to Meridith. I wouldn't do it any other way. And I hope it'll be that way on the other side as well, because I'm not getting involved in all those tiresome "Oh, my mother-in-law is so terrible" jokes. I can be funny, but not like that.
That night, or most likely very early this morning, I had a dream in which there was another set of middle school girls, and the one comment I kept hearing above all others was that, to them, I was a "hottie." Me. That. Me? That? I'm still stunned, but I think I must have freed more than just everything I've kept inside up until late Thursday afternoon. I think I fashioned an entirely new personality for myself that I began embracing on that very day. For example, at Six Flags, I unashamedly wore a Batman cape that my sister had won at Whack-a-Mole and gave to me. I loved that about the park that day. A lot of people were wearing capes, which meant there were a lot of superheroes in the park.
This morning, I watched "Julie & Julia" with writer/director Nora Ephron's audio commentary, and I was utterly charmed by the movie all over again. And, watching Amy Adams, I determined that besides everything else I'm looking for (I want a rapport like William Powell and Myrna Loy had in "The Thin Man"), I might seek an Amy Adams-type. She's heart-wrenchingly beautiful to me.
I love my new life. And no matter what happens, no matter how many further arguments Mom and Dad have (such as the one they had a little while ago, which will continue in spurts throughout the day), I'm looking out for me. I'm the only one in this body (and it's becoming such a good-looking body, too), and I need to do what satisfies me. I partly have the job I want, I know it's the kind of job I want full-time, so now I need to seek out the other half of the life I want. For now anyway, my one true love in life is reading, but I look forward to that eventually changing.
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