So about that whole “wanting a story” thing

I mean, I always knew it was definitely gone in this direction, but I’d never seen any actual statistical proof of just how it really is these days.

But it’s pretty much confirmed that when it comes to the dating and relationships game, pretty much the vast majority of the world has given up on chance, and have turned to the internet.  Except for the few people like me, that is.  But really, I knew that I was kind of in a low-populated boat to begin with, but it’s pretty amazing to see just how many people have turned to the internet throughout the years.

As I’ve said before, I don’t have a problem with people meeting other people over the internet, but it’s just something that I don’t want for myself.  I don’t want to be able to stalk and learn about someone I’m interested in over a wall of text and an online questionnaire, and some cherry picked JPEGs of them looking their best.  Relationships are all about seeing the good and the bad, and overcoming all sorts of obstacles small and large, suffering occasional adversities, and enjoying victories little ones, and big ones, together.

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I do my best thinking in the car

I really do. It’s like I do my best typing when I’ve got my feet kicked up on my desk, and I have the wireless keyboard in my lap. I don’t know why that is, but I feel like my fingers fly along the keys when it’s in this position. But back to the topic of thinking, I guess “best” isn’t necessarily the best word, but it’s true that I do some of my deepest thinking while I’m driving in my car.

Lately, something that pops into my head a lot, which is probably obvious given my age and life’s status, but I’m kind of a lonely person. I’m probably being more earnest than I really should be, given the fairly public status of my brog, but to put it out there, I’m 31 years old, and I haven’t been on a date in about two years now. Ultimately, there’s nobody to blame for such circumstances except for myself, but to be perfectly honest, I kind of don’t even know where to begin.

It’s not like I can go to Publix and be all like “oh, you’ve got one item? Please, go ahead” in the checkout line, and strike up a scintillating conversation with a random stranger, culminating with the birth of a blossoming relationship. No, it would result in us holding up the checkout line, people behind us getting pissed, the cashier getting impatient with our inconsiderate behavior, and a girl, who capitalized on my generosity getting the fuck out of the place even sooner because I was being a mush.

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Writer’s funk ain’t no fun

I’m still in the midst of this writer’s funk, where I feel like I want to write something, but I simply don’t know what I want to write about lately.  It’s hard to explain how I’m feeling these days; I can’t say that I’m in one of my bouts of depression or being all ronery-emo, because I don’t really think I am.  Work is boring and stagnant, but it’s not like I didn’t know this was going to be the status quo when I took this job.  I’m working out and exercising along the same clip, and I feel physically fine, and mentally too, for the most part.

Yet, I can’t really find or think of anything remotely interesting to write about these days, to which that puzzles me a bit.  Usually, I lean onto local news, or try to find something remotely interesting on the internet to spark some train of thought worthy to put into words.  But Atlanta news is pretty stagnant and predictably boring, and nothing makes me want to write about racist agendas and the obvious racial bias that “my fair city” exhibits on such a regular basis.  Not to mention the fact that all the local Atlanta news outlets are money-grubbing rags that recycle the same news anyway.

The Atlanta Braves blog I occasionally write for, I’ve been informed that there are going to be some changes with.  Although it’s nothing really that serious, it does make me wonder if I want to continue to obligate myself with writing about baseball on a weekly basis.  Obviously, my fandom with baseball has grown a little disenchanted over the last three seasons, but I kind of wonder if this was an opportunity to dive head-first into trying to re-invigorate it, or if I just want to stop outright.  Sometimes I think that my position of floating in the middle isn’t necessarily the best idea.

Speaking of baseball, it’s not that I don’t love the game any less than I used to, but here’s an interesting fact: I’ve been to one Braves game all season.  I’ve been to more baseball games at Coors Field in Denver, than I have at home in Atlanta.  I’ve seen as many games in Detroit and Miami as I have at home in Atlanta.  It’s not that I don’t enjoy going to the ballpark, it’s just that the idea of going alone isn’t what it used to be.  I tell you, one of these days I’m just going to have to buckle down and get on board with an 81-game plan, and make my damndest effort to do an entire 81-game season.

Maybe this is the kind of slump that happens when I don’t really do anything in my spare time.  I’ve been spending a lot of time reading lately, and I have to admit that since I started using my iPad as a Kindle, I’ve been reading a ton of books, and I’m finding it more of a bear than anything else when I force myself to read a physical book again, but my declaring particular authors as “physical book only,” it’s something that I’m not going to abandon any time soon.

But my list of options of things to do when I’m at home is a little stale, and makes me think that it’s contributing to my overall mental stagnancy lately.  All I do when I’m at home as of late is either read, play LoL, or watch DVR’d shows.  I could be a little bit more productive and try to do some cleaning, but when 95% of the clutter in the house isn’t mine, it’s somewhat unappealing and unrewarding to even fathom, let alone do, especially when it feels like it’s just going to have to happen again in a week.

Perhaps I need more activities to do in my spare time, to stimulate my brain into wanting to write about something.  That’s usually what normally happens, when I really find inspiration to write, while I’m doing something else, creating the false conundrum that I need to address and write about something while the iron is hot, but oh noes, I suddenly don’t seem to have the time to do such.  Perhaps I should actually address these projects for Dragon*Con while there’s still plenty of time in advance, as opposed to trying to get everything done in the month of August like I ended up doing last year.

But until then, this writer’s funk blows.  I like having something a little more focused to write about.

An obligatory Varentine’s Day post

I use the term “obligatory” because honestly I’m starting this post without my idea of what I’m going to write, but I feel like writing something anyways, so I’m taking a stab at it regardless.

I’m single, and I’ve been single for the better part of the last, shit, seven years. Since then, my life as it pertains to romantic pursuits has been as sporadic as locust swarms, and if that analogy’s too discreet, it’s to say that I have gotten very, very little activity over a long period of time. It’s impossible for me to say that there’s really anyone to blame for this drought but myself, as I’d be the first to admit that I have as much game as the Sega Saturn, to which if that analogy is too obscure, it’s to say that I’ve got very little game, period.

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Hi brog, I’ve been busy lately

It’s not that I’m neglecting my brog, but the truth of the matter is that I actually kind of have been busy this month.  A couple things have happened that had necessitated some travel, a couple things have happened that have consumed a good deal of my personal time, and lastly I’m once again taking part in National Novel Writing Month, which is pretty much taking up the rest of everything else.  The quest to put down 50,000 words in a 30-day span, which I sometimes wonder why I do other than personal torment.

As of now, I’m in great shape, well ahead of the pace, and currently sitting at around 27,500+ words.  I would never share this putrid story with anyone else, but if I could describe it in a brief synopsis, think SyFy channel, but way worse better.  I’m actually wondering if I could sell this to SyFy after I finish as a potential screenplay.

I’ll admit that ever since I have gotten on the Facebook wagon, that I haven’t been writing as much on my brog either.  Granted, most of my October was spent on two long vacations, and this has been a month of literary writing abandon, but it’s not like I don’t have any opportunity to brog anymore, either.  Sometimes I find myself wondering if I should write something on my brog, in 300 words or more, or if I should dumb it down to a succinct statement and share it on Facebook instead.  Ultimately, my brog will always mean more to me than Facebook will, but I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve written things as Facebook status updates that I might have turned into more elaborate posts here.

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I think I need to start dating again, so I can catch up on movies

The following is a list of movies back from 2011 to around today, that I wanted to see:

  • Captain America
  • The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
  • The Cabin in the Woods
  • Bridesmaids
  • 50/50
  • Spider-Man
  • Ted
  • The Avengers
  • Prometheus
  • The Hunger Games
  • Project X
  • Men in Black 3
  • The Dictator
  • Chernobyl Diaries
  • Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

I haven’t seen any of these movies.

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A weird dream

I had a weird dream the other night.  In this dream, I was pursuing porn star, Bibi Jones.  And when I say “pursuing,” I mean, I was trying to talk to her, and really really hoping she was as easy as she makes herself sound, like on the Howard Stern show.

For whatever reason, we happened to be in a familiar suburban neighborhood near where I grew up in Virginia.  Later on in the dream, I was in a driveway of a house where Bibi Jones happened to be, and across the street I see none other than Bobby “The Brain” Heenan walking in his yard, picking up his morning paper.  One house down, is Ron Swanson, staring that blank and accusatory stare over in my direction, for what reason, I have no idea.

Later on in this dream, I run into two girls I’ve dated in the past, one of whom had a propensity to change her hair color pretty often.  I didn’t recognize her, but apparently Bibi Jones knew who they were and greeted them as she walked past them.  Ironically, neither of them had any idea who Bibi Jones was either.  But anyway, the one who changed her hair color often had her hair pink at the time, and both girls were dressed in obvious bridesmaids dresses.  So the girl with the pink hair reminded me of Krieger’s virtual girlfriend from Archer.

And just when the dream was getting interesting, with my current lust, and two past romantic interests, I wake up.  Figure that.