.....

I think.... I might want to go public... I was going to hold off until January 1, but I don't see the point in that to be completely honest.

First Day Back

Monday January 26

I like the first day of classes for as many reasons as I hate it. I like it because I usually look sexy, classes are super quick and I get to see who I'll be working with for the next four and a half months. I hate it because I hate the whole introduction/syllabus reading thing, (I'd rather jump into it) I don't like when I know anybody in my classes, and I can't stand how boring it is.

My first class was at 8 a.m. so in order to get there on time and beat traffic I had to wake up at 6:30. It was miserable, especially because I couldn't sleep the night before, like I predicted. My first two classes are totally real world applications. What I mean by that is that I get two clients that I have to do PR work for. I could get into the details, but that's tiresome. Basically, I get these clients one given to me for my first class, (ComedySportz Buffalo) again non-disclosure, and one I get to choose with a group in my second class.  It's riveting because I'm so close to the end I can taste it. 

My third class is a basic computer class I'm taking because last semester my advisor told me to take a bird course. I knew a kid in there who graduated two years after me, and I've only spoken to him a handful of times. I feel bad for not sitting next to him, or on his side of the room.  I didn't know anyone in my first class and only a handful in my second class. It wasn't what I was expecting. Then again, the rest of my usual colleagues are still juniors. I could write about all the awkward   "Hello, my name is _______"  and the stupid ice breakers, but I really don't feel like reliving that awkward mess. Slay me. 

Lazy Sunday

Sunday January 25

I finally begin my senior year tomorrow. It's so surreal that this time next year I will be done with undergrad and out there fighting with the rest of corporate America. I spent today mentally preparing my self and getting everything ready at my desk at home, while sleeping off last night and just having a lazy Sunday. It was perfect, despite the fact that I never had hangovers before I turned 21 and now that isn't the case anymore. I'm always nervous before my first day of classes, and I can't sleep well the night before. Ever. I just hope there are cool people in my classes tomorrow, so that I'm not on an iceberg floating alone.  

Saturday Night and We in the Spot

Saturday January 24

Directly following Target tonight, I had a three hour production meeting for the company I am doing PR for: White Lion Studios. I had to go a pick up some guy on my way to the meeting because he doesn't have a car or something like that. I was skeptical because I don't like picking up strange men I don't know and riding with them to a meeting I don't know two shits about. For all I knew, I could've been walking into a swingers convention and held against my will. Not that I would be too opposed. They call me their PR intern, but I'm heading their PR efforts so I don't know we'll see. So I went to this guys house and sat outside for five minutes before texting the bossman and asking him if I should ring the doorbell to this strange house. He sent back yes. So I walked up to the house. No doorbell. Swell. I knocked and a very angry dog on the other side started barking at me. A man on the other side screamed at it and then cracked the door and said I'll be right out. His name was Marcelo and he had a strong and heavy Puerto Rican accent. He was nice, and noticeably older. It was just awkward. Then we couldn't find the meeting location. It was in a local restaurant that the company rented out for the meeting.  It was so hard to find, but we did find it eventually. Walking in the meeting was just starting and we introduced ourselves and I gave my piece on what I'm going to be doing with the company and blah blah blah. Then I found out that Marcelo was on my team in graphics and campaigning and I was kind of thankful I had the car ride to get to know him a little bit. We're meeting for coffee this week to discuss ideas. I can't discuss further what went on in the meeting because I signed a non-disclosure agreement. All I can say is that I am working on promoting a certain show that is currently in production.I like half of the company at this time. The other half are kind of out there, or too arrogant for me to handle at the moment. I zoned out way too much during the meeting, looking forward to what the night was going to bring me. 

Boy oh boy. I'm just going to get into it. Yesterday my world traveler friend told me about her birthday party tonight at a brand new night club in the Seneca Niagara Casino called Club Stir. She had a reserved table with bottle service and it was her and her friends from work. She invited me to come as well. Why would I say no to that? Why would anybody in their right mind?

I looked hot tonight. Like really hot. Like I would do me. I had on these tighter maroon-purple pants and white shirt with blue and grey polka dots and grey shoes with blue laces. My hair was gelled to perfection, contacts in, teeth shiny. I went to the casino and parked on the ramp around 11:15 p.m. I took a huge gulp of the Hypnotiq I bought yesterday and walked in. I walked like I owned the place. Blame the French liquor. I didn't even get ID'd to go onto the casino floor. I don't look that old. I met up with my friend who's party it was. (From this point on, I'm just going to use her first name: Katherine, because honestly she won't care, she's a bro.) 

And we went to the club which was actually an open floor club in the back corner of the casino floor, pretty cool. There was a woman and her band wailing out that horrid Meghan Trainor All About that Bass song. Walking to the entrance to the club we met up with half of the party group because the other hadn't shown up yet. We all made small talk and I was introduced to everybody. They were all mildly attractive. Then the second group came and joined us, and I was impressed that they were all pretty attractive as well. I'm being underwhelming. We were a HOT group, good Lord! 

We all entered the club and piled in to our round table, complete with reserved sign and all. Everyone was so welcoming to me, it was so nice. We all sat and critiqued the band for a little bit deciding we didn't like them. We started to occasionally yell jabs at them, which obviously got worse the drunker we got. The guys aside from me all started with beer, the girls with their fruity drinks, and then there was me. I ordered two shots of patron. They were disgusting. They went down so roughly and made me catch my breath. After that I ordered a beer. Two of the three other guys had already started drinking before we got there so we were at about the same level of "drunkeness." The girls were drunk quickly, of course. More beer and more liquor and we were all chatting and then Beyoncé started playing throughout the club, after the band had taken a break. The girls were gone, and just the four of us guys remained at the table, talking about sports, beer, vaginas, and checking out random girls around the bar. Funnily enough we were all singing along and dancing at the table too. Alcohol makes making friends so much easier. Then the one guy asked us if we wanted anything from the bar and I knew I was drunk already but I said "fuck it, I'll go with you!" The two of us went to the bar, not wanting to wait for the drink waitress who was assigned to our table and one of the girls came up and asked what we were doing, (I don't just standing at the bar, what do you think?) and we told her and she said she wanted a shot and next thing you know, the guy was buying shots for everyone as well as beer for us guys. He was cool. The shots were a super mixture of liquor that left it as a milky substance with a cinnamon undertone. It was delicious. We did that thing where the group puts all their shots in the middle of them and screams, it was awesome.  We all stayed on the dance floor from that point on, and it was the best time. Even after the shitty band came back out we still danced and went wild. As the night came to an end I realized I was still a little drunk, even after chugging two water bottles. After saying my goodbyes to everyone, I walked back towards the parking garage. I hope I see them all again. I actually liked them all so much. (The one guy tripped the other, and he literally just landed on the floor and got back up, it was so funny.) I sat in the driver's seat for five minutes staring at nothing before climbing into my backseat taking out my contacts, (I had my contact case and glasses in my jacket) and laying down. I woke up maybe 20 minutes later to a guy screaming from outside my car that I hit him and dented his car. He was the car parked in front of me. I literally sat up and stared at him, knowing I did no such thing, and he got in his car and drove away. By this point I was alright to drive home, so that's what I did. It was almost 4 a.m. when I walked into my house. Best night in weeks, hands down.

Happy Hour

Friday January 23

I was so stupid today. So stupid. Today was a very close friend's birthday and she (where did all my guy friends go?) turned 21. This particular friend of mine is my world traveler friend and she frequents Europe sometimes twice a year. As a matter of fact, she just came back from Europe about two weeks ago. Anyway, she asked me if I wanted to go out for Mexican and although it was her birthday, I declined. It was like noon. No. She went with the wine girl from last night. (Small island) 

About two hours before I had to go to work she texted me to see what I was doing and I discovered she was laying on the couch at home. That's terrible and I told her we could hang out before I had to go to work because on my birthday I just laid around until she took me out for FroYo. I think a birthday should be over-celebrated, especially at our age. We went to the Falls because it was closer and she was going to a bar in Buffalo for a small get together later tonight. I had the bright idea of going back to the liquor supermarket and she bought her obligatory "I'm 21" bottle. I bought a little bottle of Hypnotiq. The same cashier was there and I was quick to avoid her line. After this we didn't have any idea of where to go, or what to do so another idea dawned on me. It was 5 o'clock and people always say "It's 5 o'clock somewhere." I put two and two together and blurted out "Let's go to happy hour!" "Don't you have work in an hour and a half?" She asked. "Yeah, whatever. Let's go!" was my response. So we went to this bar right by the bridge home and sat down at the bar and she ordered wine and I ordered a beer. A tall one. ---Fireball by Pitbull just came on my shuffle and although you can't see it I am jamming hard. Damn it now, Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars. Download these immediately and dance around your house/apartment/bedroom, I implore you. 

Then it was time for me to go to work. Problem was, I was tipsy. I drank that beer really fast AND it was huge. I could just tell that I had something in my system. I drove super carefully to work and walked in and giggled like a moron at everything that people were saying to me. One co-worker asked me "what's wrong with you?" And I replied "I just came back from happy hour." Giggling at the end and covering my face with one hand. She,with her bug mouth, told the other worker who was back there and they both gave me high fives. It was odd. I sobered up throughout my shift, and nobody else was none the wiser.

Fuck the Man-y

Thursday January 22

Oh my gosh, I didn't wake up until one this afternoon. That really sucks because I totally missed the morning which is when time still seems to be going slowest. I don't know, I just feel more productive in the morning. 

I decided to get dinner with the friend of mine who wanted me to buy her alcohol. Another friend of ours joined us as well, one who was also underaged. We went to this shabby little place on the Island and I hid my distaste for it pretty well. Afterwards came the awkward "can we go to the liquor store now?" question because I danced around the subject during the meal. Gracefully, I said yes and we headed to a liquor supermarket out in the Falls. 

I thought I would be buying these girls you know, something small maybe a bottle or two for school. I should've known that wouldn't be the case. I had a fifty dollar bill thrust into my hands and the girls went into this whole "thirty is for me, twenty is for her, use the whole thing." Kid you not, I laughed in their face at that point and asked "seriously?!" However, I am not one to back down from a challenge so it was on. They're young freshman in college so instead of tastefully telling me what they wanted they said in a broader sense that they wanted peach flavored vodka, as many bottles of white wine as possible, a bottle of pink wine, and cheap, small bottles of flavored vodka. THIS is a prime example of why I need more guy friends, all they want is beer. I walked into the store and walked out ten minutes later with bottles of Moscato, Riesling, peach Schnapps, peach Pinnacle, and some other bottle of liquor I can't remember right now. (Strawberry Smirnoff maybe?) That was about half of my allowance. (They told me to get all the cheapest bottles possible, resulting in a grimace from me. What I couldn't put together was how surprised they were with how much they had when they told me to go cheap.) I decided to be nice and took them to another liquor store downtown, by this point I was feeling put ballsy and "fuck the man-y." It was kind of a rush to be able to buy all of this liquor and only receive a look from the cashier who may be thinking that I may be an alcoholic. At the other liquor story, I bought them a bottle of pink Moscato, a bottle of Pinot Grigio, and another little liquor bottle. Bye, bye fifty bucks. 

Once I arrived back on the scene of the car, the girls had decided that they wanted to celebrate by going back to one of their houses and cracking open a bottle of wine. I decided to have one glass. We opened the Moscato and it was such a cool and regular atmosphere as we drank the wine and talked about an endless list of topics, that always somehow always came back to me and my half falling out with some of my friends. Eventually, the one girls boyfriend came home from his bowling league game. (I didn't know young people were into that stuff? That's cool.) Instantly, the mood of the room changed and became awkward and I tried to make conversation with him and he talked to me about how he's transferring to my school so we will see what becomes of that. Meanwhile, the girl who's boyfriend he wasn't was plastered on three glasses of wine and a shot of the Schnapps. I drove her home and she gratefully thanked me for the alcohol. I told her not to tell anybody where she got it. 

HWG

Wednesday January 21

I swear I'm a werewolf. No joke. So this morning I woke up to my big, dumb, 100-pound Chcolate Lab, Buster breathing by my face. It was early, and I realized I was awake because I was crouched like a creature glaring at him. I felt myself flip up and onto all fours the second I woke up and it was really fast and bizarre. The ONLY reason I know it was real was because he took off running, and I groaned and rolled over and looked at my phone to see what time it was before falling back asleep. Moral of the story: don't mess with me when I'm sleeping, I will pounce like a tiger. I knew it was going to be a weird day when that's how it started.

         Tonight was strange too. Within five minutes of clocking in at work I was bombarded with a co-worker telling me about how she was going to have a meeting with a DA over her abusive boyfriend/ex-boyfriend thing, the phone was ringing with stupid people on the other line and "Hot Wheels Guy" showed up. I suppose I should backtrack a little bit. The specific co-worker I'm referring to is one of the sweetest girls ever and she's actually hilarious too. That's why I feel  so bad for her when she comes to work crying, or tells me her stories about her boyfriend. The poor thing loves him so much that although he has assaulted her on more than one occasion, and even perforated her eardrum she still stays with him. That kind of love is terrifying. She decided to press charges and got a restraining order against him but they got back together. The first time she told me about this guy hitting her, I was furious. One of the worst things a man can do in this world is hit a woman. It's inexcusable and unacceptable. The craziest thing is that they both had a lot of fucked up shit happen to them and that has built and built and you see what happens. I'm just glad she's trying to get out of that situation. People and relationships honestly freak me out. 

I'm not even going to get into the stupid things people call the store for. It's honestly so unbelievable that people can't look up things for themselves. It's lazy. Hot Wheels Guy is this thirty-something-year-old guy who comes in to Target literally three or four times a week in his USPS uniform and destroys the Hot Wheels aisle. He also heckles whoever is working in the back of the store where Electronics and Toys are located, (usually me) to go into the back stockroom and pull out the bulk boxes of the Hot Wheels. I guess he's like a crazy collector or something, and he like really gets into it. One time, he showed me pictures on his phones of all of his stupid Hot Wheels and the guy literally has at least three of each one. He also told me he goes to all the other retail stores in the area and does the same thing. He's literally so annoying, and I always just smile and do whatever he says to get him out of the store quicker. Apparently this was the wrong way to go and I should've just been a douche because every time I see him now he yells out my name obnoxiously, shakes my hand, and talks to me about his wife. It's weird okay. It's even got to the point where he'll tell other employees and my bosses how great I am, and they're like "Who is he, a friend?" And I'm like "No, that's just Hot Wheels Guy."  

It's literally 3:30 a.m. and I'm laying in my bed watching random episodes of Degrassi. I'm not ashamed to say that I have seasons one through twelve of the show on DVD. Everybody I know makes fun of me for it, but I know deep down they all love it too, or at the very least, they've watched it and not hated it. I am so screwed for my 8 a.m. class next week. True Life: My Sleeping Schedule is Messed Up. 

Pre-Drunkness

Tuesday January 20

I was supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner this evening. That was until I blew her off. Here's the deal, said friend really only wants to hang out with me because of my age. She is  underage and she wanted me to buy her alcohol before she went back to school this weekend. So she doubled that by asking me to join her for dinner as well. Now, I don't care because number one: why would you ever say no to an opportunity to eat? And number two: I actually quite enjoy this friend and all of their wild stories, most of which are fabricated but they are entertaining nonetheless. So I had full intentions of going. Then Morgan called me and asked if I wanted to go out for Mexican with her and a couple of her friends. There's this local Mexican restaurant that is so delicious I can't even deal, and that was the place she Morgan wanted to go tonight. We also know at least half the staff because they are personal friends (a good portion we know from high school) and it's a great place to go because they don't charge us for everything, they give us discounts and a bunch of the staff come and sit with us and chit chat with their accents which I absolutely love. Going there over the years, the staff have become friends of ours and they all treat us like family. Unfortunately for my underaged friend, I had a taste for Mexican. I called my friend and asked if we could reschedule for Thursday when I'm off, but I am contemplating blowing her off again because although people did it for me, I don't know how I feel about buying for a an underaged person. My mom and her boyfriend spooked me because they said "It just takes one girl to tell the police where she got the bottle." Thanks guys.

The restaurant which is usually busy was dead. Only Morgan and I went because one of her friends had a work meeting or something so obviously that meant the other couldn't go right? I ordered a taco, a quesadilla, and a chimmy chonga. (I think that's how you spell it?) I ordered a mango margarita as well. Lemme tell you something about this margarita, it was huge, and they put so much tequila in it. It was strong. By the time I finished with it I felt that pre-drunk sensation. You know, that stupid giggly thing you get before you get belligerent. Then as a late birthday present they served me churros with vanilla ice cream. It was honestly so sweet and unexpected. And also free. Then came the sombreros, and next thing you know Morgan is having a photo shoot with a ton of the waiters and busboys, and I'm just laughing at the table, from my "pre-drunkness." I understand Spanish and I can speak it on the most basic level, so I cracking up when some of the busboys were talking about getting with Morgan after being prompted by our waitress who we have both known for years. She was completely oblivious. 

Mullets

Sunday January 18 - Monday January 19

Eli's birthday party was yesterday. He invited all the boys from his class and 8 of the 9 who RSVP'd showed up. It was a total success. He decided to have the party at Lasertron, and who knew that establishment was so good with parties? They were so organized and gave us so much free stuff. They had their shit together. Meanwhile, I was losing my shit because all of these little boys together were on another level. They were running around and screaming and so excited just to be there. I'm glad Eli had such a great time though. I just felt like an old man sitting there with my brother, sister, and Morgan. Some of the parents stuck around and one rubbed me the total wrong way. The one little boy's mother brought his sister too, which was tacky and she expected her daughter to be included in the party her son was invited to. Not only that but for whatever reason she kept on shooting the four of us older kids dirty looks. Okay she had a mullet. If you have a mullet, you have no right to be nasty to somebody else. I'm also pretty sure she was wearing Walmart brand clothes. Okay I'm done being a rude asshole now. But you get my point. She had a comment or made a face about everything that went on with the party and I wanted to confront her but it was not the time or place. Ungrateful, grotsky, little, beeyotch. (Yes, that is another Mean Girls reference) It was a fun get together though. 

Today was my laziest day in weeks. I laid around all day and played Xbox, read Andy's addicting words, and watched Netflix. I'm finally at that point of break where I'm so bored with life that I'm ready to move on. I'm also trying to save money because I'm a little teensy bit behind on my car bill. Oopsie. I also ate a ton today and hung with my siblings. Super lazy MLK Day. 

Musings

Saturday January 17

I worked a double today. It was so tiresome. The weird thing is it wasn't that bad, in fact, it was actually a nice change of pace to have something take over my whole day. That and the fact that I let my mind wander to really slutty places today. I made eye contact with a new love  interest that I have as of yesterday. It was steamy. Along with my two existing ones, work got really interesting during my later shift. I don't know if I'm wearing something that makes me smell like an aphrodisiac lately or something but all the attention is definitely appreciated. This may or may not complicate things once school starts next week and I'm back with last semester's whatever-we-are. 

I guess now we play the waiting game. I have a feeling this semester is gonna get me into some trouble. It's my first semester being 21, and the spring semesters tend to be a little more wild. I'm just so so so ready to go back. Oddly enough, I could also really go for some spaghetti right now. That sounds so delicious. It's definitely too late for me to be up right now after working for so long. I'm borderline delirious.  

The High School Post

Friday January 16

Everybody wants to hang out with me all of a sudden. I woke up this morning to multiple text messages and a voicemail to go out for breakfast. So I'm currently doing the only logical thing in this type of situation, I'm sipping my coffee, reading The Andy Cohen Diaries (which kind of sort of inspired me to write this, because I feel as if I'm somewhat more relatable) and pretending to be asleep. I do feel kind of bad about it, but not bad enough to get out of my sweats.

I know what I promised yesterday, so I guess I'll start with ninth grade. But really quickly, I'm sorry I just have to talk about work tonight for a second. Oh my gosh, I couldn't remember why I don't ever put effort into how I look. Well, tonight I remembered. Never have I ever been looked at like such a piece of meat. I felt like Britney Spears was belting out If You Seek Amy all.night.long. It was bad, all I did was gel my hair, wear contacts, and earrings and my looser red v-neck. About five or six women and a couple men wanted to have super long convos and gaze into my eyes deeply. This always happens. I should just accept it because honestly I love all the staring, and the double-takes, and the blushing. I feed off of that shit for real. Anyways.....

            Ninth grade. I was 14 when it started and I was just coming off of my "darkboy emo" phase. That is to say I was constantly wearing black clothing, specifically with skulls and other depressing things all over them. I was also right around 250 pounds. I didn't have friends, only acquaintances who were also outcasts like myself. Although there was one girl who I grew closer with with each passing year, and we still remain friends to this day. I had also taken a vow of silence and only spoken when necessary. The only person who looked at me without judgement was my grandfather, who was the greatest man to ever live. Eighth grade scarred me pretty badly in that I was just really sad all the time and so lonely. There was also a specific individual who was a good friend of mine the year before and come eighth grade he decided that I was gay, and so that spread like wildfire. Back in 2008, it was still super bad to even be suspected of being gay especially on little old Grand Island. (The individual that spread the gay rumors about me was pitted against me in tackling practice when I played football my senior year and I went at him with everything I had, still bitter of course, and he broke down and said he loved me. I think he meant platonically, but you know what they say about "football bullies." I took this as an apology for everything and I haven't seen him since graduation.) Those rumors followed me into high school further hastening my growing unpopularity. I even tried the "cutting thing" once but it wasn't my thing. It kind of hurt, like a lot. So yeah, my entire ninth grade year consisted of me trying to be more normal, so that people could maybe like me for me. I started wearing less black, and I even started to speak a little bit more, just a little bit. That year was super bland. I still just had acquaintances, no friends. The big thing that year was that I discovered Facebook and I found my voice online. People started commenting on things I would post and would say I'm funny. I even waged war against my English teacher Kelly Baumgartner. Online of course. I felt really bad for orchestrating a pretty nasty discussion about the woman, especially considering it was her first and last year at the school. What I didn't feel bad about was the attention I was receiving from some of my peers for the first time outside of mocking me or a few words here or there. 

Fast-forward to sophomore year. This was the year I turned sixteen, and I'm pretty sure it's a rule that at some point during you're sixteenth year you start rebelling. The first four months were like a continuation of my freshman year, except that for the first time I had friends. I mean most of them were the outcasts from the year before, but now I went to the mall and movies with other people my age. It was such an ego booster. I was also beginning to thin and grow into my body. I went to my first school event, the seniors versus junior powderpuff game, and the school bonfire. I even went to the homecoming dance. I wore Nikes, with a dress shirt untucked, a loose tie around my neck, and a fedora. If I could I would slap the ever living shit out of myself now. I mean really? A fedora? I mean the rest was bad but damn. I remember being made fun of at the dance by the "cool kids" of my grade and upper class men and ultimately going out for punch more than enjoying myself on the dance floor. This was also a big year for me because I had my first girlfriend, or at least I thought we were together. I will refer to her by her initials CM. We were both quite rotund so we were like two peas in a pod. I mean we did everything couples did, we even slow danced to freaking Fireflies by Owl City. (Talk about a throwback, huh?) In my young, naïve mind this equated girlfriend. We never kissed though. Or maybe we did, actually I think we did. She took me to my first club and I remember being enraptured by the chaos. I loved all the bodies, the heat, the beat of the music, and the pure sex in the room. I still have this love today. If I recall correctly, in the spring of that year we stopped talking when I cut her out of my life for talking to another guy. (I'm rolling my eyes at myself.) I also got my first job that year. Three days after my sixteenth birthday I went to the coffee shop on the Island, Tim Hortons and applied for a job, I had an interview and was hired on the spot. (The woman who hired me, Jaimie, may or may not have had a drug problem and was stealing from the company, so not much credibility there.) Soon after I was hired a group of seniors and juniors from my school all got hired and they took me under their wing. I became like a little brother to them, and I loved them all. They were the first really cool friends I had ever had. I'm still friends with half of them to this day and it's always a riot when we get together. I even had a flirtation with one of the girls, Stacy, but I never acted on it because I was afraid that she would say no. It was totally lame. That summer with my new older friends changed my life forever. They instilled in me a love for alcohol that I never lost. One girl who we worked with was older than us, in her early twenties, and that summer she had parties at her house pretty often. Suddenly, little 16-year-old me was partying with the college crowd. I smoked weed for the first time, and I drank the summer away. My tolerance grew quickly and I was so grateful for that because a running joke around work was that I got drunk off of one screwdriver my first time. I totally admit to that. But they always took care of me. Always. These parties were wild. This other girl we worked with was from Jersey so accent and everything, she threatened to slit these guys throats once and we all thought it was so cool because this was right when Jersey Shore was the biggest thing in the country. People passed out cold sitting up, people had sex by the pool or disappeared to do unthinkable acts to one another. I got my first couple dozen lap dances. One night, my friend Steven dropped me off two houses away from mine so I just sat on their lawn until I felt like getting up and walking home. I felt different. Included. I also started hanging out with guys who were in their mid to late 20s. Another co-worker of mine was in his early twenties as well, and all of his friends were older than him so I would go with them to a local bar weekly and it was cool to have older guy friends who had my back. I wish I would've stayed close to them.

Junior Year. My transformation into a douchebag was in the works. This was the year I had my first inner slow motion walk down the hall. What I mean by that is that even now when I look really good, I kind of picture myself walking in slow motion with a really cool song and everybody stopping to stare at me. This actually happened to me on the first day of my junior year. I woke up that morning and I realized I had pretty much lost a lot of my friends because I ditched them for my older, cooler friends. The problem was that most of these friends either went away for college or were too busy for me. They still hung out with me when they could, but mostly I ran to them with all of my problems and questions, as my high school gurus. I had also discovered American Eagle and style. I was dressing a lot more like I do now, you know, regular. At least regular for me. I was also skinnier than I had ever been before that. So on the first day of eleventh grade I was walking to one of my classes upstairs with a smile and looking forward. Something I had never done as I had usually frowned and looked at the ground. My hair was cut, I wore new glasses that fit my face and I didn't look like myself, puberty was good to me that summer. Other students went as far as to tell me how different I looked or how great I looked. They even smiled or waved at me. On the outside, I was cool but on the inside I was on Cloud 9. 2 weeks later, after 6 long years my braces were removed. Another slow motion walk ensued. There was this kid in my first period English class, let's call him Billy Fields. You see, his initials are BF and we are not friends anymore. It got nasty, I'll save that for the next year. Anyway, he sat behind me in English class and we got to talking, and soon we were best friends. It was really quick actually. We realized that we knew some of the same people and next thing you knew, we were a group. Our little group was like any other group of teenage friends of both sexes, everybody was in love with everybody else. I mean none of us ever got together but that's besides the point. The point is I had friends and my list was growing. As I cut ties with my old acquaintances, the outcasts, I felt awful because they showed me kindness when others wouldn't and I was turning my back on them. I never became friends with any of them again. One of my friends from work was the captain of the rugby team, and come spring he was advocating for players. The "gay rumors" were starting to stir again, I think it was from the scorned outcasts. So I thought, you know what, I have never played a sport, why not play the roughest, manliest sport? I joined the rugby team. Boy, I got in shape quicker than a speeding magnet train. I lost weight like crazy, I could suddenly lift weights and run for extensive periods of time, and I had a ton of new guy friends. I bonded especially with three other guys including Billy Fields, as we grew closer than ever. I got contacts for the sport and I pierced my cartilage on my left ear. (I had pierced my left ear the year before, to some slight ridicule from my peers.)  After training for the last half of winter and the beginning of the spring, it was time to play the first game in our 4 game season. Coach put me in the game in the second half because I have to be honest with you, I don't understand rugby! I just don't get it, the rules, the concept, how to play, nothing. So I went in with the idea that I would just tackle the opponent and that would be that. I mean there were other things I had to do but I can't even explain to you what those are because I have no idea how to even explain it. I left my contacts at home, and so when I gave the water boy my glasses and cartilage ring, I swallowed hard and ran out onto the field blindly. When there was only a couple minutes left of the game, we were tied and I knew then I wanted to be the hero, I wanted everyone to see me even though I could literally not see at that moment. I decided my game plan would be to go after the largest blur and take it down, I saw myself as strongest on the team, physically and at the time I might have been. Ref blew the whistle, my blood was pumping, everything got tuned out and I ran at the biggest kid I could make out, as he went down, his knee went up and slammed into my collarbone. I didn't let go, and we both came crashing down. I don't remember what happened after that, but I think we lost. I just remember feeling off balance. There was something wrong, I thought it was just a bruise. Funny thing was I prank called my mom that night on the drive home and we told her I was in the hospital with a broken arm. Pretty damn close. At practice a few days later, I was trying to do a push up and fell face-first into the mud. I couldn't push myself up and it was freaking me out. The next day I skipped school and got X-Rays done. My collarbone was broken, and I hadn't even noticed it because I thought it was just bruised. I was in a sling and out of the season until the last game where I played again for the second half. During my time as a cripple, I bonded with a boy who broke his hand in the second game, we became extremely close and, let's call him Maynard Housing (initials), Billy Fields and I were an inseparable trifecta. Maynard is the kid who rides horses in the Caribbean, by the way. I also met Morgan that year. She sat in front of me on the bus and one day while I sat with my Fall Out Boy playing she looked at me, made a motion to take out my earphones, and asked me why I don't ever speak. We haven't stopped talking since then.That is one thing I will always be grateful for, because I know we're both in it for the long haul. Literally forever. Fast-forward. It was prom season and I was not going to miss my first prom now that I was a cool jock. I asked a girl publicly in photography class, and she said no because she thought I was joking. (She's a lesbian now, so I guess it's okay.) The second girl I asked was this girl from Mexico that I had a crush on and been friendly with since fifth grade and she said yes. Then she said no. Apparently she had already told some guy from her church, whom I hated (the reason for that hatred was tacky: in third grade he took one of my books and put it through a paper shredder and I was done with him) that she would take him. He didn't even go to our school anymore. I ended up going with a freshman who I'm still very close with and whom I will be seeing next week. Actually she was one of the friends I went to the hookah bar with a little bit ago. I asked her through a note I wrote and gave to New Zealand to give to her. We had a blast. I HATED her dress, and she found out about this disdain two years later, and I apologized profusely. We even messed with who I thought was my ex-girlfriend CM and her new boyfriend. We danced and danced and it was the first time I had ever grinded or dirty danced with a girl. I also danced with most of the junior class, including another one of my six year crushes. At some point a group of friends and I went around and defaced our exes lawns with silly string, eggs, and forks. I had also stolen my car that I wasn't allowed to drive that night. (I did that a lot actually, I lied to everyone about having my license from the time I was 16-and-a-half, until the spring of my junior year when I finally got my license with my broken collarbone. I was only supposed to drive it to work.)  Billy Fields was there of course and there was one other guy we bonded with that night and he and his twin soon joined Billy, Maynard and I. That summer the 5 of us became inseparable. The twins and I have been extremely close up until the past few months, and I don't know I guess we're just drifting apart. I can't say that I'm that upset though. Day in and day out the five of us were together, playing video games, basketball, swimming, seeing movies, you name the lame things teenage boys did, I'm pretty sure we did them. We were like a cult. That was a problem, but even more so of a problem was the fact that they were all straight-edge. They never drank and they didn't smoke. Ever. Comparing that summer to the previous ones, I felt as if I regressed. I was happy, for what I thought were true friends, but I needed to let the caged beast out. That was where my older friends came in. When I could get away from the five-some, I was with them. That summer I also joined the football team. Never had I ever played football, but there I was. I wanted to prove to everybody that I could do it in my last year of school. The gay rumors ceased forever. I mean, you know aside from one or two assholes. 

Senior year changes everyone. It's the year where you decide what you're gonna do for the rest of your life and with who. This was the year I changed. This was the year I hated myself. This was the year I fell in love. This was the year I ran supreme, and this was the year everything changed forever. The five of us began our last year of high school with such an over abundance of confidence this was our year. That's what we thought, boy were we wrong. Football had me lean and on amazing terms with the football guys. Who would've thought that the chunky little emoboy would be a skinny and sexy football player? The divide among the five began. I think Billy Fields may have initially been jealous of my influx of popularity especially after he was the only player cut from the soccer team. Maynard Housing was trying to find his place in the school and the twins were busy with soccer. Billy started to lose it. He was so consumed with making senior year perfect and getting his perfect girl that we were constantly clashing. For the rest of this recollection, I want you as the reader to remember that I have grown up a lot since then and this is not who I am anymore. I could never go through with some of the shit I pulled back then. By October, I had, had it with Billy. I caught him in lie after lie and his personality started to grow more vindictive, evidently so did mine. By this point I had convinced pretty much all of our ever growing friend group to dump the kid. I convinced them all that they didn't want him ruining their senior year and that he was a snake. I was faced with the opposition of one kid in particular who told me not to ruin someone else's senior year. The dumping was put on hold. Meanwhile, my popularity was growing to such levels that the entire school knew who I was and it warped my thinking. It made me think I was better than everyone to finally be on top and I began to refer to myself as "The Prince." I had become a social media mogul as well through Twitter throughout Grand Island High School. Everyone began calling me The Prince, it caught on extremely quickly. I slowly became involved with a ton of school activities as well, and knew the hot gossip on everybody I crossed paths with. One of my favorite things back then was to find something out, tell somebody who I wasn't supposed to tell and watch the fireworks go off. I had become a warped version of Cady Heron. November led to the excommunication of Billy. We all harassed him over social media, and mocked him. I encouraged all of it. It was like people just wanted to do whatever I said so that I would be friends with them. Everyone except for the outcasts who stood firm in their opposition to my rule. I had transformed into the very people who made my life a living hell a mere three years earlier. Very quickly we had a replacement for Billy. We'll call him Double A. The guys had started hanging out with him while I was away at Disney World for a week. This was when I took the reign to another level and became friends with a group of sophomores who were friends with my junior prom date. I later became friends with a huge chunk of that grade and spent most of my summer with them. I also became extremely close to one of the people who used to make fun of me at the beginning of high school and I still consider him one of my best friends today. (In his defense, he made fun of everyone) Eventually spending so much time with the sophomores, I began to fall in love with one in particular. Double A had already said that he wanted her, so I backed away. The thing was, she didn't want Double A, she wanted one of the twins. They had a weird flirty thing before New Zealand revealed that she also liked that same twin. He had been in love with her since 7th grade and they're actually still together. I guess I was next in line. We'll come back to that. By winter, there was a schism. Billy Fields, and his group of friends following the excommunication, brought Maynard over to their side. He still tried to be friends with all of us. (His definition of that is talking shit about the other with the other and hoping he doesn't get caught. From that point, despite our reconciliation towards the end of the summer and going into college I have never trusted Maynard Housing. He is a snake.) This took me by such surprise that I was scorned because Maynard had become my right hand and I never thought that he would do this kind of thing, I thought he was trustworthy.The two sides grew further apart and their side had a new alpha. He was of Indian descent and we'll call him Raj. Their group had these hot, slutty, blonde twins in it that every guy in the school drooled over, and most girls in the school hated. Then the Winter Ball school dance drew a pretty clear line in the sand. For weeks I had told people I wasn't going to the dance, when all along I had a ticket for me and for my date. I got a girl I worked with to go with me, a girl who graduated the year before. She was a good friend of mine. I thought that the best way to be the center of attention and have all eyes on me would be to walk in fifteen minutes late with her on my arm, and that's what I did. Halfway through the dance though, my date caught me staring at the sophomore I had growing feelings for. She said "go to her, it's obvious you're heart is with her." I asked her how she would get home and she said her sister. That was all I needed, I scooped my crush into my arms and swung her around, and we danced until there was no more music. After the dance, the twins and I, our dates, (mine was now the sophomore) and a seventh wheel all went to the Applebee's Billy Fields told them to go to after the dance to meet up with their side to try to preserve the friendship. He told them the wrong one, and we set off to the right one. Before we got there both twins asked their dates to be their girlfriends and I was silent. Walking into the right Applebee's, my girl laced her fingers with mine and I was beaming. I still didn't ask her. The two groups were outrageously awkward and any chemistry any of us had was gone. They continued their night and didn't invite us, furthering the wedge. In late January, Billy Fields approached me, and it was the first time we had really spoken in months. He asked if I still wanted to be his partner in the business competition we had made it to States in as a pair. We had signed up for the partner event and won our last round despite our growing separation. I remember answering him very shortly, confirming that I was still in. It meant going to Rochester for 3 days during the school week. And I got to wear a suit. Priorities. While in Rochester Billy and I became friends again, and I started to reclaim a little bit of my old self. Being away from that school helped immensely. Two of my sophomore friends also went to this competition and we explored the city together. The one who went was the one I was falling for. Being away felt like being in a dream with her and I knew I had fallen head over heels in love with her. It was all consuming, she was everything to me. So much so that I asked her to prom as we explored the city. Once again, I couldn't seal the deal. Even though there was an obvious sexual tension and attraction between us, I couldn't ask her to be with me. I felt like she would say no, even though I knew she wouldn't. A month later I had my wisdom teeth removed, and I was prescribed painkillers. I wish I never was. Three days after the surgery high on the meds, I went to work and realized I was in no shape to work and I told my boss I had to go home, and she tried to force me to stay and I had some choice words with her and then put her on the phone with my mother who told her I was going home. I never went back, not to work anyway. I had a ton leftover painkillers after I healed, and instead of disposing of them or keeping them for when I would get hurt, I took one every morning before school and would take another when I felt the first wear off. I stole my mom's painkillers out of her nightstand and took her when I ran out. I also sold hers to a friend I worked with. (He's now in the Army and doing big things.) I cut communication with the girl I was in love with because I heard that she was getting back with her ex-boyfriend. And really, I had no right to behave the way I did because we weren't together. Following this heartbreak, I turned to more drugs and alcohol. I would seek out parties or any excuse to take pills, smoke weed, or get drunk. I looked for it. It was also rugby season and I didn't go back to the team because a ton of my ex-friends were on the team. I know the twins especially were super worried about me, because at that point of time they still had never touched anything like that. I was an addict. Then one day I looked in the mirror and I dint like what I saw. I had burned so many bridges. I had made my mother cry due to my actions more than once, I had gotten into a brutal fist fight with my brother when emotions ran high and we both said some things we didn't mean. He also heard me talking smack about him with my friends. I will forever feel bad for how I treated my brother and we're still not as close as we used to be. We're just getting close again now. I mistreated my grandfather, and my heart shatters into a thousand pieces when I think about it because he passed away the next year and I had so much less time with him then I would've if I had been myself. I had hurt some people at school. The only good thing to come from a lot of this was that I was slowly finding myself again and becoming friends with new people who liked the me I was working on becoming. I stopped doing drugs. I still drank, but only in moderation. My grades also had to be fixed. I was extremely close to repeating twelfth grade. By spring, I was almost fully myself again, the me I should've been all along. There was still that divide though between my friends and them. By prom, we were okay. Speaking of prom, when I stopped talking to my love, I had to find another date, (she ended up going with Double A and hated every minute of it) but my date found me. Morgan. One day in study hall, she turned to me and asked and I said yes. No cheesy "promposals." It was so us. The night before prom I went to downtown Buffalo and went bar hopping with some of my old Tim Hortons friends. You see, Girls Gone Wild was in town. I drank half a bottle of UV Vodka that night. Morgan was pissed. I was half a zombie the next day. We went through the ringer with our prom group. Simply put, they sucked. They consisted primarily of the "church kids," and refused to let me play explicit music, on the limo, I did anyway. By the time we were sitting at our prom table for dinner we were all really tired after pictures and so this mutual friend of ours broke out caffeine pills and around the table the pills went. We each took like two a piece. My heart was beating so fast. Both of us had also put in our names for Prom King and Prom Queen, not actually thinking we would get it. A few hours before prom Morgan told me that we had won, and that our class advisor had told her. The couple who everyone thought was gonna win were literally Ken and Barbie. It was one of those slutty twins, and her boyfriend who had sex with the other twin whilst his girlfriend twin was drunk on the couch in the same room. Gross. I will never ever forget the moment, they made the announcement and Ken and Barbie, started to walk forward and then Morgan's name rang out throughout the dance floor, followed by mine and then for me everything went silent. I don't even remember what song they played, I just remember dancing with her and being so happy and her being so happy and us just smiling like idiots while everybody watched us dance. My mom cried when I got home. Graduation day was a sunny, perfect day. I hated it. I don't know why but I was angry all day. I was a complete dick that day. I think I was sad and upset that it was all really over and I don't know, I was just seething. When it was over I ran to my car and didn't look back. I wish I would've spent more time with my grandfather and mom that day, they were both so proud. I hate myself for not giving them quality time that day. Right after that, I went with my cousin to Toronto for the night while she went to some Gay Pride thing. I explored the city in solitude wishing that some of the friends I just walked away from were there with me. That summer is a blur of grad parties, alcohol, making out with lesbians, Canadian adventures with the reunited fivesome, (We only lasted until September when I sent Billy a long paragraph about everything I hate about him.) not being able to go to my dream school because I couldn't afford it, (I later realized how bad that school would've been for me and how good Buff State has been to me) and one night where I smoked 3 grams of weed with snakeboy Maynard. I haven't touched weed since then, not really anyway, not my thing.

So that is the story of how a loner grew up and became one of the most pompous, arrogant assholes, how he lost himself and found himself again, and of how he started making strides to the man he is today. A LOT of stuff happened after high school and maybe one day I'll write about that too but right now this is where I came from and this is what I left. So now you know everything. I'm sure I might've forgotten an event or two and if so and I remember it, I will add it to a later entry. But this is a pretty thorough retelling of half of my teenage years. If you read all of that you rock and I love you immensely.  

Notes from my phone....

While I'm writing meticulously at Today's entry, well now yesterdays entry, I thought it'd be funny to put up some of the notes from my phone. They show just how over the place my mind is, and often if I don't write something down, I will forget it 100℅.

OCD and Jelousy

Thursday January 15

I swear I have the weirdest form of OCD known to man. It comes in little spurts, but when it does it's all consuming. Today, I decided to clean my rooms. I'm your typical undergrad student living in his mother's basement. It's cool though because the basement is like a mini apartment or dorm room. I have a living room and then my bedroom, or had would be the better descriptor. 

During my last manic OCD attack, I converted my living room into a living/bedroom, and my bedroom was changed into an office/walk-in closet. Luckily both rooms are mildly spacey. (Speaking of "spacey," more specifically Kevin Spacey, I have to get back on Netflix and re-watch House of Cards because that is some prime television, but I digress.)  

I decided to clean because I had a whole day off and nothing of the social variety planned so that left me open to become a slave to my laundry and pick up the random dishes and garbage strewn about, not to mention the ginormous pile of clothes in the middle of my office/closet. The funny thing is that despite these messes I generally know where miscellaneous items are located underneath the clutter. Today's ultimate objective though was to get all of my clothes into some kind of order and so I took to labeling my dresser depending on what was in each drawer. I also discovered eleven half-empty to full water bottles all over my bedroom. Literally this is because of my sleeping habits. You see I wake up at least once a night usually around 4:30, why? I don't know, but I do and I'm always ridiculously thirsty and so that usually leads me to grabbing and chugging a water bottle and bringing it back down to my room. In my half conscious state I usually fling the bottle in some random direction. Wash, rinse, and repeat.

This is kind of random, but I've really had it with people. Okay, there's this kid I cannot stand and we used to be really good friends but now I can't even be in the same room as him without my blood pressure rising. The same effect happens with Instagram pictures. I really only follow him to hate him, (I actually do this with quite a lot of people, and I KNOW some of you do the same.) and today he posted a picture of him riding a fucking horse in the Caribbean! Excuse my fucking French. Not only that but last I checked he had 40+ likes on it while I'm fighting for 11. Oh my goodness, I've done the whole Caribbean thing, so that's whatever, but a horse, come on and oh my goodness he just looks so basic in the picture and it just makes me upset. I just really don't like anything about the kid, and I affectionately refer to him as a "snake among snakes." The explanation of that history dates all the way back to my junior year of high school, and that is a tale for another day. Tomorrow, to be precise. You guys deserve something really juicy. Tomorrow I will recant the second half of my high school experience and be prepared because it's something straight out of a teen drama, I swear. I'm too tired tonight to type up that essay. Just be ready for it.

Jobs

Wednesday January 14

Today was a big day for little old me. I got engaged. No I'm totally kidding, I'm still super single. BUT it was a big day because I kinda sorta pushed my nonsensical anxiety issues to the back burner. Last week I got an email that "Jobsapalooza 2015" was just around the corner. That event was today. Basically it was a job fair at the Buffalo Marriott hotel, that's the hotel where all the big events that aren't in downtown Buffalo take place, it's also the hotel where visiting NFL teams generally stay. 

The event sounded like a great idea and I was so ready to go. I'm at that part of my college career where I need to start thinking past Target and try to snag as many internships as possible. I mean ideally I'm also looking for a job in my field that pays more than what I'm making now. Then today rolled around and I freaked out a little bit. I read through the program online, and saw all of the participating employers and what specific positions they were looking to fill. However, most of the positions being offered were in the more business or financial sectors. There were a few communications openings which of course is my specialty as a public relations and communication studies dual major. Those few were my goal. With my new haircut in tow, I discovered the wonders of hair gel for the first time post-shower. My hair didn't move at all, it was so cool, who knew? 

I left the house a little too early because of how excited I was, so I decided to stop by the mall and get sunglasses and earrings since it was sunny, like really sunny despite the whole 20 degrees thing and I can't hang on to a pair of earrings to save my life. You know, people really treat you differently when you're well dressed. I was dressed in a gray Canali suit jacket, (funny story, I looted that jacket out of the lost-and-found at my old job working laundry and housekeeping at a hotel by Niagara Falls, no way could I actually afford a jacket like that. Holy run on.) a blue plaid shirt from American Eagle, black slacks, and grey dress shoes with blue shoe laces. I was also wearing pink dress socks from Express and Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Those coupled with the faux diamond studs in my ears and my aviators had me feeling like I was in a movie. That was a lot of name dropping but it's only to stress my point that I felt good. That was until I pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, five minutes to one o'clock, when the event was starting. My nerves got the better of me.

All that confidence I had a mere fifteen minutes earlier was flying out the window at a rapid pace. It diminished with every suited man or woman I saw leaving their car and trek across the parking lot to the hotel entrance. I called a friend of mine and informed them of my massive freak out and they told me just to leave. Gee thanks. I really don't know why I felt so small, I realize now because this was my first time stepping into the world of business at large. I texted my mom with my problems and she reassured me as best she could, God bless her and all she deals with, with all of my quirks. And of course as luck would have it, in the middle of our "textversation," my phone died. I was on my own. So I took a deep breath, looked in my rearview mirror and said "screw it, you're hot. Go in there and own this. Start your future." I fixed my tie and got out of my car resumes in hand. I don't know if you know this but job fairs are so awkward. Literally the employers just sit or stand at their respective tables and stare at you hopefully as you walk by. It's intimidating to be completely honest. In those few seconds of them staring I was afraid to make eye contact because that would lead to a conversation about a job that I'm not qualified for or a job that isn't within my passion. The few people who were looking for people in my field were not there when I was, and I can't say I was honestly that surprised, I mean my luck and everything. Overall, I lasted fifteen minutes before I was putting my sunglasses back on and walking the hell out of that hotel. I had enough. Was the entire endeavor unfruitful? Yes, but more importantly I proved to myself that I can go into a professional social setting alone and survive. I'm more adult than I ever have been. Besides, I was the hottest guy in there. Joking of course. Kind of. 

Today was also a big day because my baby brother Elijah turned 7! Good God almighty, he makes me feel old.  I remember the day I came home from school and there he was, those were my "emo" days. I remember them with so much distaste. He and I have come so far, and I'm not ashamed to say that he is one of my best friends. 

I was sent out to get balloons, and banners to hang around the house, whilst my mom made cupcakes for when Eli got home from school. I bought those pointy party hats too, because who doesn't love hats right? I even got my two teenage siblings AJ and Lauryn to wear the party hats for Eli. It was so unexpected because they're both in high school and so I definitely thought they would be "too cool" for the hats. I remember how much of an ass I was at that age. After the birthday boy got home we all went to Dave and Buster's for dinner and to play games. It was so fun for all five of us to actually enjoy being with one another and it is definitely going to be one of the highlights of this break for me.  

Blah blah blah

Monday January 12 - Tuesday January 13

Monday was so boring, literally I sat around with Morgan like we usually do and then we went to run some errands and got Bubble Tea. We also got into a staring contest with a rude girl at the café. Morgan was convinced it was because the girl wore her hair natural and Morgan wears a weave, and I was convinced it was because of me, because I looked really great yesterday. 

Today was another mundane day, the big exciting thing today was that I got a haircut, which was actually monumental considering I've been growing out my hair for like half a year. It was important to me though because, I have a pretty exciting job fair tomorrow. Fingers crossed I get a big boy job. I got my Mohawk back after not having one since last spring. I go to this black barbershop in downtown Niagara Falls and all the guys in there are so educated and nice. That's something that's rare for that part of town. It's called Nelson's Hair Studio. I've been going there for well over a year and the owner, Nelson, told me that I better come back with a story to tell next time, because that's apparently what you do at a barbershop. 

Stfu

Sunday January 11

Socially awkward people drive me insane. Of course, I have my own fits of social awkwardness, but it's not anything to the point of people openly disliking me for that specific trait. There's this woman at work, who is just really out there and over the busy Christmas season she was placed in electronics with me and my crew. I felt bad for the poor girl, we were all already established as a group and I almost felt like a male Plastic. (I'm looking at you Gretchen Wieners.) This girl brought everything upon herself though, and it was bad timing due to the stress of the holidays. In retail we refer to that time as "Hell on Earth." 

The big problem with this girl, Stephanie, was that she talked and talked and I definitely mentioned her before. She would talk over customers, butt into conversations and have random anxiety attacks that would leave her in tears. Now, if she hadn't already put all of her business out there, I wouldn't be doing so now. But she did, so there's that. I think she was just lonely so she always had to keep talking in the hopes that someone would listen. Some of us see therapists, others bring their shit to work. She told everybody her issues and let her emotional state become an impact on her work performance daily.

Apparently she showed multiple co-workers scars on her wrists from where she had cut herself due to the stress of her life. She's a mother of three. I just don't think that's responsible parenting. Like, what would your kids do without you, if you're attention seeking ways went awry? That's such a gamble with fate. She also explained to everyone that she was late for work one day because she was getting treated for lice. Um, ew. She had these highs and lows. According to her, she had these meltdowns because she was mixing depression and anxiety medications. And literally, I'm thinking, okay I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure you shouldn't mix fucking meds. 

Which brings me to today. She came to work early for the specific purpose of talking to someone, and lucky me I was taking my break at that exact moment, so I had to listen to it for 20 minutes. I recorded some of it and put it on Snapchat. I didn't feel bad about it either. I understand wanting to air your shit out, but there are times for that and specific people for that too. Everybody's situation is different but good Lord sister, get it together!  

Facebook

Saturday January 10

Facebook is so annoying. I absolutely hate when people at work add me on Facebook, because then I feel obligated to creep on them and then there's nothing left to the imagination. I like it though because it's means that they trust me enough to know them on a quasi-personal level which is really cool. Sometimes, I think about what it was like before Facebook. Before, we had the ability to post everything and be super judged by everyone who sees it. The 90s/early 2000s were a much simpler time. I bring this up because four people from work added me on Facebook in the last week, one of which I blatantly flirt with weekly. The other three have become routine to me and have been incorporated into my weekly habits. We all chit chat about our lives and about the hot gossip going around Target, and usually I try to talk about football to no avail. It's funny, half of Target is really machismo and into sports and the other is more into like the Kardashians. It's a healthy enough blend. I'm right in between that blend. I've also found that a common denominator among the staff is alcohol. That may or may not be a good thing. 

Friends

Friday January 9 

I kind of miss my stupid friends. Usually during winter break, my old high school friends are up my ass sideways, and this break is different, there's zero communication. I have my daily dose of Morgan and friends from work but at this point that's pretty much the extent. Break fizzled out so quickly and I still have three weeks of it. I miss hanging out with my friends even though I talk a lot of shit about them, it's all out of love. Mostly. I mean, they are kind of lame and boring but sometimes you need that. It may also seem like I'm kind of blowing them off all the time, but that's only because I'm always busy doing something else when they want to hang, or I'm at Target. Or I actually am blowing them off because I'd rather do something more exciting like go to a bar, I can do that now. I miss my school friends, especially one in particular whom I met last semester and got extremely close to, extremely quickly. So close that I used to have this thing where I didn't really make physical contact with others, but he and I had this thing where we would play fight or he would wake me up for sleeping in class. He was a very touchy person and that kind of rubbed off on me. Get this, I can even hug other people now. Woah, progress.  We also had this thing where we could communicate strictly with eye contact and I've found that aside from him I can only do this with people I've known forever. Whatever, I don't know man. What I do know is that I'm obsessed with Taylor Swift's new song Blank Space, and I have been since the end of the semester about two weeks ago. That song and that video are everything. 

Food Poisoning

Thursday January 8

Today, the unthinkable happened. Two or three times a week, I frequent Chipotle, there are few places I could eat that many times of week, but it's a tie between that and this Greek place I really like on Hertel Avenue, called Kostas. (Who doesn't like a good souvlaki?) Anyway, a new one just opened up in the Falls and weather was really bad today, so despite my preconceived notion that "Falls food" is less than delicious, a friend and I decided to give the Falls Chipotle a shot. It would be a lot easier to drive to the Falls location then trekking out to Buffalo. I should've went with my gut on the less than delicious thing. 

We did the online ordering so our food was ready when we arrived. This way we didn't have to wait in the ridiculously long line. The friend I went with was my friend Morgan who just got back from Orlando. Morgan and I are basically inseparable and do 90 percent of everything together. She is the one I can count on to never leave my side. My sister ended up going to, the love for Chipotle is real.  

Later tonight, my stomach started doing somersaults and I felt like I had an ape in my stomach that was using me as a punching bag. It was excruciating, and I'll save you from the disgusting bathroom details. It was awful. I never thought that Chipotle could do this to me. A good friend of mine from school warned me that this had happened to him which is why he only goes to Moe's now, and part of me wishes I listened to him. I don't think I will ever go back to the Niagara Falls location, just out of sheer fear. 

Food poisoning is no joke. This is my first bout with it and so I always thought people were over exaggerating when they complained about getting food poisoning, no I'm sorry I feel like death. Hopefully, I feel better tomorrow. 

Passion

Wednesday January 7

Paris. It's one of many cities I'm planning to visit before I die. Paris was attacked by terrorists today and twelve people died. Twelve lives. I had no idea until I scrolled through my Twitter feed. When I started college, I was a journalism major, so I suppose my leftover instinct from that time period came out and I dug deep to learn all I could about these attacks. It was devastating. I mean, Paris is supposed to be the picturesque example of love and beauty right?

In lieu of that debacle, tonight at work something really cool happened. A middle aged woman who later told me her name was Laura came in looking for an SD card for her phone. I helped her with that and had to reassure her like seven times, no joke, that it was the right one for her. Then we got to talking and she started to tell me all about how she needs to card because she's a starting musician and she makes YouTube videos. So I did my usual over enthusiastic "wow that's so cool!" It seemed to me that the poor woman barely got complimented because she was elated from my compliments. So much so that she pulled out her phone and asked me if I had time to watch one of her videos. I said yes and I'm glad I did. This woman must be a musical savant or something. She told me that she can memorize pieces by ear, and play them on her keyboard within a couple times of hearing said song. She played this specific video and I was blown away, it was incredible and the way she looked in the video was something else. She was so into her music, so into her passion. It was what she loved to do, that much was evident. The song she played was absolutely gorgeous. After it was over, I was like bouncing with how good it was and I told her to keep it up, and how great it was and how I could tell that it was what she loved. She looked like she was ready to cry tears of joys. It made me happy to see somebody else so happy. I think I might've given Laura the wrong impression because I'm really into eye contact, and so five minutes later while I was fiddling with something on a shelf, she appeared out of nowhere and thanked me again, and kind of barked out her name, and said it was a pleasure meeting me, I kindly said that the pleasure was all mine. She lingered for a moment and I'm thinking, uh-oh she wants me to ask her out. And then, I thought, no way sister, wrong tree, you could be my mother. But she turned and left in a hurry. It was really bizarre, but I'm glad I met Laura. I hope she goes far with her passion.

Hookah

Tuesday January 6

I had a bright and early shift today which I love because literally I was done by two and had my whole day ahead of me. Which of course meant that I had the entire day to mostly laze around while my right hand woman was off in Orlando. 

That night I reunited with some old high school friends of mine, who were all sophomores when I was a senior. I had some weird attachment to their class as a senior, I don't know. The four of us decided to go to a hookah bar to catch up and blow O's. I was a little apprehensive about the whole thing because the last time I smoked hookah, I felt like I was gonna pass out, it just gets you really dizzy and lightheaded. The first hookah bar we went to was closed because the other hookah bar in Buffalo owned by the same people had a shooting last night. Some D-list rapper or something was in town and initiated the shooting. The funny thing is, we actually did make it inside the bar, following closely behind a news crew. It was then that the owners kicked us out. With only a few options left, we opted to head to the Habibi Sheesha Lounge in Niagara Falls. 

Half an hour later, we finally sat down on the couches that may or may not have various stains of bodily fluids. The verdict is out the window on that one. All three of the friends I went with moved away for school. The one moved to wherever the hell Alfred State is, the other to boondocks Cortland, and the third of which I am insanely and infinitely jealous moved to New York. I tried my best to represent "B-Lo," and I was pretty pleased with how much I actually enjoy this city. We split the hookahs two and two and in one we had some kind of sex flavor, "Queen of Sex" maybe? And in the other, we had a fruity mix. The waiter asked us if we also wanted bubbles and although none of us understood what he was asking, we all eagerly said yes. The bubbles were some liquid that if you blew the smoke you take in, into it you produced smoke bubbles that bounced and were reduced to vapor when you popped them. It was insanely cool. Cue Instagram pictures and Snapchat videos. 

Hearing about everybody's lives was so fascinating because we were now all adults in the world, it's just such a cool -- okay really quickly, my mom is doing laundry downstairs right now and all I hear coming from her phone is the Dawson's Creek theme song, you know, "I don't wanna wait forever to be over..." Oh my god, I am dying right now.  So yeah, yada yada, it was great to see everyone and although it killed me to ask, I had to find out how New York was so I asked all the questions I had about living in the city, and that particular friend of mine gave me the okay to sleep on her dorm floor anytime. Which did I mention, is in the Upper East Side! XOXO Dan Humphrey. (Spoiler Alert) 

By time we left, it was close to midnight and we were super hungry. Luckily there's this local taco place open ridiculous hours of the night, and we ate in the dark of the car driving home. After I got home, I did my usual look in the mirror to make sure I didn't look like shit all night, and there was buffalo sauce all over my shirt. I scowled at myself and went to bed. 

Dad

Monday January 5

Life is such a fragile thing you know? It's still crazy to me that Stuart Scott passed away yesterday. He was such an influential part of the sporting world. Even I, who only catches SportsCenter every now and again knew who he was. What I didn't know was that he fought with cancer for seven long years. And that he was only 49. I couldn't even imagine the strength and courage it took to go to work everyday and live each day to its fullest with that kind of struggle going on. I have so much respect for that man and for people who are fighters like that. That is the kind of man I am aspiring to be, someone who is strong, courageous, and a role model to all. I truly think it's important to take a moment and think about all the things that really matter each day.

I woke up this morning to an unexpected surprise. My aunt from my father's side of the family sent me a late Christmas gift. I met her for the first time over the summer so this was a huge surprise, there's a lot of history as to why I haven't communicated or kept in touch with my dad's side of the family until now. I'll expand on that later. Anyway, I opened the gift and it was season seven of The Big Bang Theory...... I HATE The Big Bang Theory. Or so I thought. I have it playing on my television in the background as I write this and I literally just had to pause it because I'm laughing at their jokes and enjoying it. It's so cool how something I thought I disliked actually turned out to be something I could enjoy. It's like when you're younger and as you get older your taste buds change. Growth and all that jazz....... And now Chicago is playing in my head in a loop of All That Jazz and Cell Block Tango. Good Lord. 

I went to the mall with a good friend of mine today for boots and walked out at least $120 poorer and with more shirts and underwear then the one pair of boots I did buy.  It was alright though because this particular friend of mine is the one I know I can go to when I want a really good shit talking session. If you don't have one of those, get one! It's honestly therapeutic. Shit talking is one of the best pastimes you can have in my honest opinion because then when you see the person you shit talk about, it makes it a lot easier to be cordial to their face. 

Now the part I know you've been waiting for, my familial drama. My "daddy problems," if you will. Where to begin, well, let's begin at my birth. (All of this comes from my mother who I absolutely trust completely, so I know 100% it's the truth) My father was not there when I was born. In fact, I wasn't even planned. When my mom was 16 she met my dad who was 23. According to her, he saw her across the dance floor at whatever club they were at. He approached her and they started dating for three years. At the time of my conception, they were still together but apparently broke up right after she found out about me. Back to my birth, it wasn't until I was one that my father decided to be my father. Keep in mind, he already had my three older brothers with another woman. And then poof, he disappeared out of my life just as quickly as he reappeared into it. Fast-forward about 6 or 7 years, (I'm not completely sure, I have memory problems when it comes to this time in my life, so I'll recount what I know and what I remember.) he wanted to be back in my life. By this point, my mom was married to who is now her ex-husband, my stepfather, and the father of my three younger siblings. All those years, I thought he was my dad. Nobody ever told me otherwise. So, when I found out about my biological dad, I had to meet him, I think I knew even back then deep down that my stepfather wasn't my dad. I think I knew something was off. So I met my dad for the first time, and things between my stepdad and I were never the same. We would go on to get into screaming matches and fist fights, and just constant bickering well into my teenage years. It was only recently that we both finally petered out and accepted one another. But back to my dad. During the week, I would live with my mom and then on weekends my dad would take me and I would stay with him. This is where things get foggy. During my stay with my dad I met my three older brothers who would also stay on the weekends and my younger brother who lived with my dad full-time. I also met my father's wife. She didn't take a keen liking to any of us older boys, and I remember she would sit on the couch all day, miserable. And then... nothing. I can remember anything and when I try I get these super intense headaches. I think the whole thing traumatized me, being so young and impressionable, and I hope that's all it is, because somewhere deep down I fear that something much more serious happened to me and I just don't know. It makes me want to see a hypnotist and have them recover my lost memories. The weekend visits stopped one day, and I found out a couple of months ago that my mom was the cause behind the visits ceasing. She told me that I used to say that my father's wife was mean to me. I'm terrified to ask her if I said anything else during that time, because if something really bad did happen, I'd rather not remember it. It just scares me. My older brothers continued to visit with my father, and now I work with one of them at Target and he told me that my father told him and my other brothers that I didn't come around anymore because I moved to Florida. Which never happened. Eventually he stopped picking them up on the weekends as well. They all share a deep dislike for him and an even deeper dislike for my father's wife. I don't know how I feel, I used to feel angry, but now I don't feel anything towards the subject, it's like I've been numbed. Unfortunately my brothers and I lost contact and I didn't see them again until I was 18 when my brother was hospitalized for an overdose and we still remained out of contact after that. Now, working with one of my older brothers is the first time I have spoken with and felt connected to them in almost a decade and a half. I saw my father at a basketball game in my senior year of high school and he made me meet all of his friends and was bragging about how I was going to college. I saw him again that summer at an amusement park with his wife, my little brother, and my sister who was born after my father and I parted ways. I remember feeling heartbroken when walking away I could hear the sister that I never met ask "Daddy, who is that?" And now fast-forward again 2 more years. I was 20, when I got the Facebook message that my father was really sick and could possibly die. It was from my younger brother, the one who lives with him. My father was put in a life vest that would shock him back to life if his heart stopped. He began texting me and messaging me on Facebook, and we started talking regularly as any father and son would. I think he realized how much of an ass he had been my whole life, and I decided to forgive him. I let go of all the anger, the resentment, and I forgave him. Our relationship now is healthier then it has ever been. My older brothers are another story, they have zero contact with him. Which brings me to the aunt who sent me the Christmas gift. Over the summer, I met that entire side of the family for what was pretty much the first time, including my grandmother who teared up when she saw me, and told me that she looks at an old picture of me from when I was a boy every day. It was so crazy that all of these people knew me but I didn't know them. Here I am a grown damn man meeting his family for the first time. It's indescribable. 

I think I'm gonna leave it there for today. I'm sorry if it looks like I'm all over the place, which is probably because I kind of am all over the place today. It just feels so weird to have all of that out in the open, but I do this in the hopes that not only people understand me better but that people take something away from reading these entries. And of course for the shock value ;) kidding, kidding.

Concerto

Sunday January 4

After I woke up this morning or rather this afternoon, I saw the new Annie movie. My entire family piled into the car and went to the movies together. It's nice that we can take the time out of our busy schedules to spend time like that together. The movie was freaking adorable. By halfway through I was getting really into it and by the end I was overjoyed. I mean obviously we all know how the tale of little orphan Annie ends but getting to that ending was worth the ride. 

Target was super dead, but my ride home definitely wasn't. The song of the night was a tie between Grand Theft Autumn by Fall Out Boy and Showstopper by Brandon and Leah. Such a weird combination but both songs are fantastic, I definitely recommend listening to them if you haven't. You know, I went to a Fall Out Boy and Paramore concert of the summer and it was one of the best concerts I have ever been to. I mean the weather was shitty and rainy but that totally added to the experience, that and the fact that I was under the influence. I went with a couple of my friends and my friend's cousin from LA. The LA cousin drove and when we were nearly to the amphitheater she whips out a bag of pot cookies. Now, back in high school I was the occasional pot smoker but it's never been my cup of tea, I much prefer more liquid forms of entertainment. But on this particular day I was feeling pretty ballsy, and so when she asked if we wanted any I said "hell yes!" I ate three in total. I've heard that edibles effect you harder than smoking, but I had no idea how right that notion was. LA cousin said that the marijuana in the cookies was from a distillery that her friend frequents so it was some strong shit. Throughout Paramore's set list I simply grinned and swayed back and forth, it was unreal. By the time Fall Out Boy came out it had worn off for the most part and I "raged" with the rest of the crowd. I love concerts because of the energy all around. I mean, you can just feel the electricity in the air as everyone is hyped up on their love of music, and in those few hours a bond is formed among the audience. 

Man, reading this whole thing back is putting me right to sleep. Boring entry for a boring day I suppose.       

Self-Image

Saturday January 3

Target was pretty dead tonight, it was a nice welcome in lieu of the chaos that was yesterday. There wasn't anything too out of the ordinary tonight. I mean of course apart from the occasional rambling crazy person about God only knows what, questioning my credibility, which in retrospect is actually pretty common. It's almost like some customers only want to start problems with me simply because I'm giving them the answer they don't want to hear so obviously I must not have any idea what I'm talking about right? Right. On the opposite side of that spectrum however, a kind Canadian man gave me some words of encouragement once he heard about my academic pursuits. He said: "You are very bright, for you to be able to handle all that you do, don't ever settle; your better than that." I didn't catch his name, but I won't forget his words anytime soon. 

The song of the night was one of my most favorite songs ever and so my ride home probably made it look like I was having an epileptic episode to other drivers. That song is.... ready for it? Sexyback by Justin Timberlake. Nobody will ever understand my love for that song; hell I don't even understand it. There was one other thing I was doing that might have been incurring the looks I was getting at the red lights. I was throwing one dollar bills around my car and dancing with them. Honestly, this is semi-embarrassing and I can't believe I'm writing this, except that I can because my level of shame is almost nonexistent but one of my big dreams in life is to be a stripper on a stage for just one night where they play all the good jams and I just have a good time in my underwear and women and men (if they're into that) throw singles at me. It's such a bad dream to even have but I really just want to see what it's like, but I definitely feel like I would start giggling uncontrollably in the middle of my routine.   

Which brings me to the big thought I have had all day today: I have to get into shape, and quickly. My mom told me a few days ago that we as a family are all going on a cruise in the beginning of May. The timing is perfect since I'll just be wrapping up the semester. The cruise is leaving from Orlando and going to Costa Maya, Mexico, Cozumel, Mexico, Belize, and Honduras. So that gives me four solid months to turn my flab into abs. Challenge accepted. It's gonna be hard but hopefully I can stick to it, honestly I've had to tone up and get into shape for years and this cruise is the perfect incentive. Growing up, my weight was always an issue. It was an issue to the point that my childhood pediatrician who I will refer to by her first name Usha ( Pronounced Oooo-SHA) because it's fun to say, referred me to a nutritionist whom I never saw. Usha would tell me visit after visit that I had to switch my habits and that I was on the track for diabetes, and then one day I was about 250 pounds. At age 15. I was in XXL shirts and 40 waist pants. I had to have ultrasounds done on my heart and blood taken because my cholesterol was so high that it was effecting the way my heart was working. I was 15 and I was terrified. And so I decided to make a change at all costs. Being a young, stupid kid I took what I thought was the easy route: I started to starve myself, and run/walk on one of those Gazelle workout machines we had in the basement. It was the summer before my sophomore of high school by this point and I would sleep all day, wake up at night and work out on that stupid machine, and barely eat enough to get by. I would usually chew gum instead of eating.  So I started my sophomore year like this. At this point in my life I would often be made fun of for a number of reasons. Reason number one: there were always rumors circulating that I was gay because I never had a girlfriend. This was because of my extremely low self-esteem. Due to this I often questioned myself and it made my teenage years all the more confusing. I was made fun of because of my weight, and I was made fun of because of my race. I went to a predominately white high school so the kids were generally insensitive towards what I was. They would make little jokes about my skin color or say something about black people and then say "oh sorry! I forgot you were there,"'or "I forgot you were black!" I blame the parents. I mean I'm only half-black, but damn! There's a whole list of things I could write about what people said about or to me leading up to my junior year, but that is something for another day. Tangent over, sorry those happen extremely often. Where was I? Oh yeah, so I noticed that I wasn't losing or gaining anymore weight, I was stagnant. I realized that this was because of my extremely low level of physical activity. I lost the weight by playing sports for the first time in eight years when I joined the rugby team at age 17. I joined rugby specifically because it was a "tough sport" and slowly those nasty rumors started to die down and the reinvention of myself began. I've been steadily losing weight since, (aside from a brief stint in my freshman year of college where I was eating fast food daily as a result of acute depression; but again, different story for a different day.) and am now a size M shirt and a 32-33 waist in pants.  Now the time has come for me to tone that shit up.

If you're still with me, I really appreciate it. Somehow my basic notion of getting in shape became this tirade about days long past. It's just that people are constantly asking me how I lost the weight, well that's the ugly truth. I realized what I had to do, I went about the wrong way, then the right way for the wrong reasons, and ended up where I am now. There isn't a lesson to be learned here, nothing is that black-and-white, but this is the truth.

Sitting here now as today becomes tomorrow, I'm watching my little brother Eli play his video games and I see so much of myself in him it's surreal. He'll be seven in a couple of weeks and I hope he'll be one thousand times stronger than I was and I'll definitely be here for him to help him along the way.