Monday, June 13, 2011

It's All Just Ambiguous Expendable Bullshit

Ever have a life situation where it's like you're playing a game and the game is fun, then one day you're thinking "wait a minute, this game is getting old, it's not fun anymore!"? The game ceases to be fun when there is no end, when there is no WINNING. At the same time, when you can't define what winning is, you're forced to continue playing a frustrating game. Then you think to yourself, "fine, I'll just stop playing." But, doesn't that mean you lose? And what is worse? Losing or playing a game you can't win? Yeah, I'm gonna go with losing on this one.

I'm hoping that putting a couple of $5 words in the title makes up for the rambling pity-fest you're about to read. I probably shouldn't even be writing about this... Maybe it's just yet another overreaction. Seems I have been assuming something for the past year that evidently wasn't true. I'm not talking something trivial like assuming that everyone loves bacon, I'm talking something that makes me think of the cliche "assume makes an ass of u and me", except this time I'm kinda the only one who has been made an ass of. It's not the first time, it won't be the last - it's certainly not hard to make me look stupid and naive (even if I am neither), especially if you have a penis and a few choice, suave words (I'm a sucker for an ego stroking).

As it turns out, just because you are sleeping together on a regular basis, talking on the phone a few times a week and showering together occasionally doesn't mean that you are an actual couple. In fact, you're probably nothing more than glorified fuck buddies and no matter how much you want to believe differently, when nothing is being said it's just a stupid stupid move on your part to assume you are anything more. He might tell that Mexican dude in the bar that you are his girlfriend, but that's just so the other dude doesn't try to take you home with him (as if you would go home with that dude, anyway). See, if it's been like a year and his friends aren't really sure what to call you and just end up assuming you're "special friends" then he obviously doesn't think highly enough of you to present you, unambiguously, as his "girlfriend", "lady", "partner" or even "better half".

The best part of all of this is finding out from someone else. Enjoying some good music (that you busted your ass to get home in time to see your "special friend" play) and basically having the bomb dropped on you. It's not as if it's anything more than confirming what you already knew deep down, but after this long, it would be nice to hear it from the source. Then you have to spend the rest of the evening smiling and pretending like nothing is wrong while you're sitting there working all of this information out in your head and it begins dawning on you that, yeah, you knew this - but that still doesn't make it any less difficult to swallow. You feel like a vibrator that's seen too many sets of D batteries - your battery door is held on with duct tape and the only setting that still works is supersonic jackhammer. You don't get much use any more and you're rotting away in a drawer. That was a stupid analogy but you get the point.

The best part of this all is... (Wait, I had a "best part" already, yeah well I guess it just keeps getting better!!!) ...When the realization of being had comes one day before the semi-official one year mark (consummation if you will) of this ambiguous union. I'm probably supposed to be angry. Most people would probably agree that I would have every right to be downright livid. Thing is, I chose to make assumptions based on equivocal, at best, information and subtleties instead of growing some fucking balls and asking that things be made 100% clear.

Today, I feel like someone has played the cruelest possible joke on me... The worst part of this feeling is the realization that I've been playing the joke on myself. I've been warned from every possible angle and I chose to ignore it either because I am naive or because I believe in things greater than myself, in giving the benefit of the doubt. I'm a fucking SUCKER, either way.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Actual Run-in With a Cop (I didn't make this one up and I have the ticket to prove it)

As most of you know, I recently picked up 2 other Freedom Fighters in the TrboMobile and traveled to Washington DC to stand with other activists at the Thomas Jefferson Monument in protest of the ridiculous ruling that we cannot dance with or in honor of our favorite Founding Father. 

I drug myself out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5:00am, a time I rarely see unless it's in a drunken stupor following an all-nighter (preferably with my legs thrown over the shoulders of a HBG). I couldn't leave until 7:00 and I had to drive North first to grab my first passenger. We then stopped in the uh, quaint little village of Morgantown, WV to pick up another lovely lady. About 2 hours into the trip a fascist swine in the beautiful state of Maryland decided to harass me for harming no one. The official charge is "Exceeding maximum speed: 100 MPH in a posted 65 MPH zone". They are extorting $290 from me, presumably to pay for donuts and coffee. I was simply doing my patriotic duty in an attempt to make it into DC in time for the festivities which were to begin at 12:00 sharp.

My original plan was to make the 2 hour drive down to Maryland to fight the ticket, this would require me to take a day off of work (that I could otherwise take and spend doing productive things like sunning myself and getting drunk) and spend another $50 in gas (more donut taxes). My fear was that I would end up with 4 points on my driver's license (and how awful would it be if I couldn't drive???). However, after speaking with my insurance agent today, and sharing stories of getting pulled over for speeding, I was informed that out of state tickets do not put points on my license and they do not make my insurance go up. That being said, I would still normally fight the ticket, but the added hassle and expense of taking an entire day off, finding a babysitter and driving down there to probably lose the case anyway (and probably piss of the judge and the fascist swine and get thrown in jail in bum fuck Maryland) has made me determine that the best thing for me to do is pay the ticket.

Friends suggested that I start a chip in to get help with this. It's not normally something I would do (my awesomeness prevents me from asking for help, even when I need it), but I have to pay this ticket in 30 days or face a warrant for my arrest and suspension of my license. This is where you come in, fellow cohort in World Domination: if all of my friends can chip in even $1, I'll be saved from rotting in a cell with a metal toilet and urine stained cot, getting molested by toothless lesbian convicts.