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Edgy...and now, a Jones before/after
...so i tried a new wake up station today. It was music that I generally like, and man, was that a bad idea. I just laid there and thought about calling in ill, so I could sleep in, and how much I would sleep this weekend, just to make up for this particular moment, but knowing that I have too much going on, and with a pocket full of sugarcube lsd, and a pretty nice jones going, that I probably won't get to bed until reeeal fuckin' late tonight.
I got to sleep a little late last night, went with roomie to meet jeremiah and his wife roma at some bar called Streets of London on colfax to see a ska band called "The Specials" play a free show. It was okay. Did some eye contact style flirting, but just didn't feel the tug.
I have been edgy, 'cause I'm in that 3 to 4 day window sans gangi, where the edginess and slight depression creep in, 'cause I don't have that serotonin boost of smoking dank green sensimilla like its got the antidote.
I hate being edgy. My karma, typically, is to be mellow and spread calm, but me being edgy, makes other edgy, and that blows. But in all fairness, there were a couple of cats yesterday who needed a reality check. Like at the second bar last night, The Goosetown Pub, some guy asked me if I wanted to play pool. I agreed. And jeremiah and I went and played a bit. Of course, we had to put up the quarters, but they wanted to hustle us for drinks, which didn't sit well with me.
Its not the money, its the principle of the whole deal. They were hustlers, through and through(we lost by one shot in each game...I HATE losing), and although we didn't play into their game, I felt a powerful urge to bitch slap both of them for the presumption and attitudes before the game even started. Especially the short pudgy guy. Do it Right, in front of what appeared to be their grandma, who sat back and chain smoked camel lights and didn't say a word.
me:"Woah. Looks like you got a black eye. What happened?"
shorty:"Why, you want one?"
me(direct eye contact in a non-chalant, menacingly slow drawl):"Sure...You're welcome to try. Wouldn't be the first guy."
(pause)
shorty(thorougly cowed):"Its okay...I...I...was just kidding."
Pussy. You don't say something like that to another guy you don't know. Might bite you in the ass. On top of that, you don't say something like that before you are going to compete with them. Bad form, and all kinds of craziness could kick off.
I don't go out of my way to avoid a fight, and I don't go out of my way looking for one.
Couple that with the gym yesterday...Christ, muscleheads, y'know? Put the 'roids down and open a book.
I walk into the lockeroom to change back over and leave, and the lockerrom is packed. There are a lot of guys, over fifty lockers, and THREE benches. One musclehead decides to claim a bench all for his own. Fuckin' DUH. And my locker is right by his. *sigh* so here comes a testoerone duel...about nothing, for nothing, accomplishing nothing. But I'm edgy and in a mood, so...heawego.
The lockerroom fairly reeks from this guys' awful cologne.
And to make it just that much more irritating...the guy is dressed in LEOPARD SKIN BIKINI BREIFS.
What...the...fuck.
*sigh*
me:(approaching, obviously in a hurry, separated from my locker and a place to sit by musclehead (m.h.)'s stuff, particularly a bottle of cologne that he has splashed liberally everywhere, including the bench. )"Hey(pointing) is that your cologne?"
m.h.:(confused, dumb)"...phone?"
me:(picking the bottle up for demonstration purposes, and placing it closer to him, but there is still too much sprawl of junk to sit down)"Cologne."
m.h."Oh I though you said phone, and I said to myself,'Dang, I thought I left that in the car where it won't bother nobody with it ringin''"
me(clipped, and not a question):"Okay. Yeah, that sucks. I hate that. Hey, dya' mind if I get in here."
m.h.(dumb, confused)" no...no...go ahead...wait...wait...here, let me get my stuff out the way."
m.h. picks up bottle of cologne and other items , revealing a mess of stank assed dank on the bench. He lowers his head, and appears to be contemplating his leopard skin bikin briefs, but is apparently searching visually for a towel.
I move to sit down.
m.h."wait...lemme...find a towel...lemme...wipe that off."
me(losing patience due to edgy pot withdrawal) :"Look, I don't care. Maybe it will make my ass smell better. "
m.h.(seriously confused)"...uhh...okay."
When I'm edgy, its the little things. I hate showing frustration, and worst of all, taking things out on others. Its wrong. My dad did it throught my childhood, and my brother is a little bitch with it, constantly. I absolutely hate it. I will cope with this edginess until it passes, or I get stoned. Can't believe i've been here a year, and I don't have a regular weed hook-up. Woe is me.
I will most likely drop acid tonight. I have a good jones going. You will, of course, be going with me, and if possible I will update with electric thoughts and vivid selerity probably sometime early this morning somewhere between three and five in the a.m. mountain standard time.
I also called shelia last night, just to be a good guy. The conversation is getting better, but it still leaves a little to be desired. I will be nice, regardless, but she just isn't...it...for me. Not yet anyway. Maybe she'll grow on me, and maybe I can show her a few things. We'll see how it goes.
My folks left for Gulf Shores Alabama today for their annual winter vacation. They're going with their high-school friends, which they do every year. I think that's cool. Hope Dad enjoys himself. I also think its cool, 'cause when they'd do it while I was in jr. high and high school, it used to be one week long blinding party. Full week bender. Ahh, the memories.
So maybe I should switch back to that hellish contry station for my a.m. radio wake-up. At least it got my ass out of bed. I have been on-time something like once in the last two weeks, and the overall trend is simply horrifying if I broke it down to four and six week spans. Nobody says anything, so I must be doing something right . As ever, I may not be the most punctual of souls, my little rebellion, but my work is always first rate, and I bring a lot to any job. As we all know, just getting good grades and being knowledgeable isn't the whole key to getting and keeping a job.
And now a snow squall drifts languidly in over the Rockies. This winter is surely closing to an end, and offers promise of eternal renewal, such is the progression to spring, when a young man's blood runs quick, his eyes drift, wander and laze, and his heart turns to jaded fancies of love. But as now, in this still winter chill cold, must keep the kindle candle flame of aspiration dim, yet thriving, so as to blaze forth anew when matched to tinder.
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