Today I experienced a true miracle, and my best mate witnessed me experiencing it. The events that took place within the last hour would almost convince me that God existed in all his glory. Today a wish was granted, by who? well, I ain't got a fucking clue, but who cares it was granted.

The story starts 3 months ago, now stick with me, I'll cut to the good stuff real quick. Okay, I started working for a DIY store and at that DIY store there was a cashier, and this cashier was this damn fine, sexy, flirty, dainty, petite, feisty asian girl, the likes of which I have never seen before in my life, she used to poke her tongue out at me in a playful fashion for Christ sake! How could I resist! Now, at first I thought this girl was just a distraction from the madness created from dealing with the public, but after a very short period of time I realised I liked this girl, a hell of a lot, it quickly got to the stage where I'd look on the rota to see if she was in when I was. Then last Sunday I was given the news that I was no longer required and my last day would be the upcoming Wednesday.

The following day. Monday. This girl made it known that she was upset that I was going and wanted me to stay, and basically loads of other little signs that mean, hey I like you, ask me out for Christ sake. Now I'm not the sort of guy who can do face to face asking out, it's just something I can't quite do at this immature stage of my life.

Tuesday. I have a day off, I'm part time you see.

Wednesday. My last day, and this girl is in, wey hey!!!! I have prepared with me a letter in an envelope, saying something like, "hey I know you have a boyfriend, and you're probably not interested in me, but I really like you a lot and if you wanna get together sometime, here's my number". I then place this letter by her timesheet in the signing in book, pure genius! Then I make a quick exit, never to step foot in the place again, so if it all goes bad, I'm never going back there, I don't really give a shit. I look on the rota and see she has the following day, the Thursday, off, so by my reckoning she'll get it Friday morning when she signs in.

Friday. Being unemployed I spend a lot of the time just sitting around doing just enough so I don't go mad from boredom i.e. Playing Age of Empires II over and over again. So I'm sitting right here where I am now, thinking about when she'll get it, and waiting for a text or a call from her. Nothing comes, I get a bit down in the dumps to say the least.

Saturday night and lofidan being the mate he is, consoles me by plying me with enough magic monkey juice to take me on a round trip to Spaceland. Then just when I'm hitting the sort of peak where I start freaking out about how matter came into existence my mobile rings. I fumble around in my rucksack and rush it to me ear. It's the girl, she's just got my note. she hadn't worked the Friday. She was shocked and surprised, and I was talking utter shit. The next thing I know she tells me she has to go and will call me later, I fear that my ramblings about "how the fuck do atomic clocks work?" haven't impressed her.

A couple of hours later and I'm magically back at my house watching shit on tv at 11:30pm. The girl hasn't called me and I'm getting worried, so I text her and she texts back telling me to call her in 20 minutes. Now I'm really excited but also logging it as I'm still pretty monged. 20 minutes go by and I make the call, I speak to her for about 30 minutes and she makes it clear that she has a boyfriend and she likes me as a friend but that's it. I spill my guts to her about how much I like her, but to no avail. The conversation ends abruptly and all my initial excitement and optimism turns to pure sadness and loneliness.

One thing I do remember was that she said I had something coming to me, not in those words, but she implied that something would be coming my way. I had no idea what she meant at the time.

I text her straight away asking if I can take her out as a 'friend', hey come on, it was worth a try. i get no reply, I get the message. I wake up the following morning, Sunday, feeling like giving it one more shot, I again text her asking if I can take her out that evening, she declines, saying maybe another time, but I knew that she was just being polite, she wasn't interested in me. But I text her again saying "have a nice day at work with Darren (our shithead manager), I guess this is the bit where I stop bothering you". I get no reply. I'm depressed, miserable, I suddenly realise how much I feel for her, how much I want to be with her, just see her, and I never would again, another love lost, another rejection, I was so sure she liked me as well, how could I have got it so wrong, shit!

Today. Monday. Totally awful day, don't ask, just one of those days where you just get in a worser and worser mood. My mate lofi also had a terrible day so we decided to ease the pain in the most carcinogenic fashion. I cycle to his house and toke up, happy days! His buttered up bird then rings him, she's been playing hard to get, and giving negative signals, but she's asking him out! I'm happy for him, but so so envious. We end our night looking at The Office then we're walking down his road, it's dark and chilly and quiet. His lady rings him again, she's practically presenting it on a plate for him, he's pretty happy. We continue walking down the road and I go off on one wishing how my girl would just go out with me, and how I love her. I'd been going on about her all night, but I just had to get one final drug fuelled rant in about how life is so unfair to me. Then my phone rings once, my girl had done this 2 nights before as a message for me to call her. I freeze momentarily with excitement, I throw my rucksack off and get my phone out in double quicktime. 1471, it's her, press 3 to call back. It's her and she hasn't dialled my number by accident. Excited isn't the word, but I play it cool asking how she is. Then I ask if this is the warm-up chat for her 4 hour conversation with her boyfriend. I don't have a boyfriend, come again, you what, you don't have a boyfriend. I'm pacing up and down, lofi breaks out a blunt and stays put. You had a boyfriend two nights ago when I talked to you. Yeah well now I don't I told him to piss off. Oh yeah, I'm getting pretty high right then. A bit more small talk working my way up to go in for the kill. So now you've not got no boyfriend you must have a few empty evenings in your diary. Maybe I do she says. I'll take that as a yes I retort. So, now you've not got someone to take you out....oh but my friends take me out she cuts in with. Yeah but you get tired of friends, you need someone else don't ya, how about we go out sometime. There, I've said it, cards on table time again. Maybe we could she says. I'll take that as a yes, when's good for you? Saturday, during the day. Lofidan has walked back to his house 10 minutes before this, I get on my bike and cycle the rest of the way home doped up to the eyeballs chanting "I'm the King of the fucking world!" or was it "I'm the fucking King!" I don't know, but I was definitly the King of something.

Now I just have to get a job, get a place of my own, sort out my manic depression and mood swings, sort out my insecurities, and happy days I'm a fit member of society.

A couple more positive things. One, she said I was fit and not exactly ugly. Two, two other guys had asked her out where we worked, plus any number of customers, and she's chosen to go out on a date with me, it is a date isn't it? Right, a wank I think.

I had a Big and Tasty at McDonalds today. Like the American Dream, it was neither big nor tasty. Unfufilled promises sizzle up from the dreams of short order cook collegates.

I began working on my college applicatons. To Georgetown University:

Please list any special talents or skills that you have:

90 WPM typing speed, double jointed-thumbs, ability to fix other peoples' relationship problems (although this must only be used for good, lest the universe be destroyed), ability to watch C-Span for three hours straight while not being asleep, rabble rouser for the forces of good, etc.

I am told that my response to this question suggests I am shallow.

I'm not sure if this even gets read, but what the heck...

I'm feeling dusty. I guess that would be the best way to describe how I feel about being in E2 these days.

I'm a dusty old person sitting in a library 24 hours a day. I've become a part that is not important to the place as a whole, and whom everyone forgets and doesn't even see because he's sort of a part of the landscape, but if I'd be missing people probably would think something's gone.

I've rooted on this place. I'm still in the same corner as I was when I came. Still reading the same books, with new books stacked on the board beside me, and I keep reading them. I see people walking around. Far away, I see them arguing. I read. Same stuff. Same old stuff. Same good stuff. Oh look, someone brought new books again. Interesting.

Nobody says hello. They don't need to. They know that. I know that.

I know where I am. But where I am, I don't know.

I've always been a quiet observer. That has become my role everywhere. What I have done myself is often small and unimportant. I'm just here to see that things are working just fine.

I've become lonely, too.

I don't know what I'm actually doing to this place, or any place. I'm a watchdog (or more like a watchwolf =), but a watchdog without the responsibility to tell about intruders. I'm an observer without the need to tell what I've seen. I do small neat things, but not big great things.

I've wanted to do something more important for this place, but I'm always doubting my ability. I'm sure I could do important things - I'm absolutely positive - but I've never actually done anything remarkable. People probably remember me, but they can't remember why.

Maybe I'm just trying to do small things too hard.

I keep rereading The Six Rejections Game.

The first time I read it I thought that it was the easiest thing in the world. I figured I could probably be the world champion at that game. I mean it is easy right, just get turned down by six women in one year. Probably wouldn't take me more than a week.

I have gotten pretty good at not asking out Sara.

Sara is a new co-worker of mine, she has been here about a month or so. I noticed her immediately, but I quickly managed to make excuses to myself as to why I shouldn't be interested in her. I told myself that I only liked her because I did not know any other single women at all. So I didn't ask her out. I told myself that she wouldn't be interested in me. I told myself all sorts of things, and I managed to convince myself almost totally.

What about those six rejections?

I happened upon The Six Rejections Game node again. I started thinking, I tried to think how long my last six rejections went back. I realized that something might be wrong, maybe I wasn't going to be the world champion after all.

I had to go back a little more than two years just to find my last rejection. No I haven't been in a long relationship, nor do I simply have universal success. It is something different.

This space intentionally left blank.

After carefully going over the details I was able to determine that my last six rejections went back about 7 or 8 years, all the way to high school. At some point I developed such a terrible fear of rejection that I simply stopped trying altogether. With a few exceptions, just about every woman I dated has asked me out, or was such a sure thing that there was never any fear on my part.

I have a note in my pocket.

I started trying to convince myself that I could ask Sara out. I liked her, she was definitely single, and she was actually pretty close in age.

I began trying to talk to her. It seemed to go alright, but I can't really tell, as I am often oblivious to signals that other people see as obvious. After a few days I began to miss obvious chances at asking her out. I simply couldn't do it.

I talked to Shannah about the situation. She is another co-worker, but she isn't single, therefore she is "safe", and I have no problems talking to her. She encouraged me a bit, and slipped a little note in my pocket as she left. The note just said "Go for it".

That really seemed nice for some reason. I thought for sure I could do it now. But alas, I could not. I proceded to not ask Sara out even though we talked for an hour. Then her shift was over and she left, but she returned five minutes later because her car wouldn't start. So then I proceded to once again, not ask her out while she waited for her ride.

I have gotten pretty good at not asking out Sara, and my rejection count for this year still stands at zero.
Yeah, I know. I am 25 years old, and shouldn't be afraid of girls any more.

It was MOT test time again yesterday. I knew that I'd need a couple of new tyres and a four-wheel alignment to pass it, and since my car is 7 years old now, it wasn't a big surprise to find that a dose of car cancer had eaten away three sections of the exhaust too.

Similarly, it wasn't a big surprise to find that these relatively minor items were going to cost almost £500, as the Vauxhall Omega is considered a big car by UK standards and as such gives parts manufacturers a licence to print money. Incidentally, the same car (more or less) is sold as the Cadillac Catera in the USA, where it's considered a small car in the Cadillac range. I wonder how the prices for parts compare?

Anyway, what was a surprise was that a minor transmission whine which started on Saturday is likely to turn into a total gearbox failure before I get the car back home tonight, if the jumping starts and complete lack of forward movement at high RPM I experienced this morning is anything to go by. A quick web search indicates that a reconditioned 'box is going to cost £800 + fitting + VAT, which is in itself more than the car is worth. Or rather, it would be if I hadn't already spent so much money on the car this year.

It looks like I'll be back on the bus for a while until I decide what to do.


Update: Yup. Gearbox died on the way home, and the RAC man towed the car back.

I did not realize how disconnected I was feeling, until I reconnected.

If you read my most recent poem, you've probably figured out that I was feeling a bit.. off. I seemed a bit less-than-grounded, and just generally a bit erratic. And damned if I could figure out why.

Then I got the brilliant idea to escape for a few hours last evening, and grab Carrie to give her the chance she needed to reconnect to her element. I was intending to just wander around the campgrounds, the woods, etc. while she played with fire, but my Muse had other ideas. Since we were in the campgrounds right next to Duck Creek, I was able to obtain water, and being next to the woods, there were sticks abounding.

Water, dirt, stick. Sounds like a perfect recipe for mud, if I've ever heard one. Carrie was playing with her fire, feeding it with 2001 Federal Income Tax instructions, and I was digging in the dirt, adding water, and giggling hysterically as I splashed mud on my jeans. Trust me, it wasn't long before I lost the stick, and just started playing in the mud with my hands. I molded shapes, played with mud balls, and then flung them at random trees and picnic tables. Tee hee.

Sometime after the sun had set, Carrie and I looked up and realized it was getting late, and that we should go home sometime soon. She helped me rinse the caked-on mud from off my hands, and then we sat by her fire, talking or being silent, petting the random cat who lived in the campgrounds, and looking up to the crystal-clear sky.

There is nothing like looking up to the Universe, to make you realize just how insignificant "real life" really is. Suddenly, the concept of not making it through the nursing program doesn't seem like the complete end of the world. It would be disappointing, but I would survive.

I needed last night, more than I knew. Reconnecting to earth is one of the most powerful experiences for me, and one that I need on a semi-regular basis. Now, if I could just remember that, before I get completely disconnected and stressed...

Well call me old fashioned but I have been dating my girlfriend for about three years and we have been talking about marriage for awhile. One of the biggest things preventing this was the lack of a full-time and the all important health benifits as she has Crohn's Disease and medical coverage is critical.

So now that I have a full time job and benifits, the idea of getting married has been talked about more seriously. So today, I took a trip to talk with her father and ask permission to marry her. Hopefully my next daylog will cover the engagement.

Am I really old fashioned doing it that way? Do people not talk to the girl's parents and ask permsission? I would like to hear there are others that still do this.

Now I can stop worrying about that. Did I mention that he is a lieutenant in the city's police and also a commander in the Naval Reserve? Or the fact we went to lunch in his city provided vehicle? How bout that his gun was tucked into his belt throughout lunch? Like I said nothing to worry about.

Flo...

Flo brings me beer.

I love Flo.

I don't tell my closest friend
I love 'em.

In 7 years of being told I was loved by my ex
Of actually loving and being in love
I never said... actually said "it"

My Mother, who tells me she loves me every chance she gets,
who could easily embody the very essence of love
who is sickly, and emaciated, and dying of ovarian cancer,

has only heard me use the word once,
mumbled as she was taken away to emergency surgery

hear me now.

I love Flo.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.