Stephen

How time flies, it's so easy to forget you have the simple things in life, like an online journal to post day to day shit in on a semi-regular pace. Sigh.
I finally went crazy and applied to about 10 jobs for management. I'm not gonna do the whole server nonsense, nor am I gonna be a retail clerk. I'm gonna shoot for as high as I think I can send my piddly Associates and hopefully something will bite.
As it were, there is a bite on my line (to continue this odd array of fishing metaphors) as I had, in a drunken and depressed stupor, applied to Fuddruckers. They called me and I did a phone interview, in which I proved my merit as a gay man and gave the best blow job I've ever done. They told me they'll call back in 7-10 days once they make the rest of their calls and, if they like what they heard, they'll set up a face to face interview.
I hate my job, it makes me literally insane with grief. Fingers crossed that it'll change sometime soon!

I went Kayaking!

This was after I fell from a moving tractor and cut the hell out of my left knee and left a sizeable bruise on my left side, right above the hip.

I went Kayaking, though, so that's cool!

Lesson: Do not drink and attempt to stand on a moving vehicle. This leads to certain disaster.

I'm not sure about what's going on with the weather in Virginia, let alone on the east coast. Given where I am, it's unsettling to hear strong gusts of wind for more than a day, and right now we're up to three days. It's making life busy at work, something I'm never fond of, naturally.
On an unrelated and most definately dismal note, what the fucking fuck Virginia Tech? Also what the fuckitty fuckfuck is up with the news broadcasts of it all? Yes, that's the glorification that a mass murderer needs. That's exactly what the aspiring next gunman, mentally ill and depressed by the status quo of their miserable uneventful lives, needs to see. Fuck you, news outlets, fuck you so fucking hard for perpetrating American Stupidity. Rot.

I'm 24.

It's painful to go back and read what I wrote just a short two weeks ago. So hopeful, maybe moreso prideful, in my connections. So excited that everything was changing for the best.
God, not a full twenty four hours after that post Carl sent me a text message plainly stating that he made a mistake in contacting me about this job. He successfully dropped the cat toy he was wagging in front of me just as I jumped over the cliff to get it. To think that someone has the power to promise the world and so coldly destroy dreams with a line of broken english sent over a cell phone. Pity, I would have loved to have gotten out of Geico so easily. Pity is something I had very little of when I finally got him on the phone. That'll come in a second.
I used my vacation time as a method of quitting my job, or so I thought. I fully anticipated to never come back. I desired, hoped, and prayed that I would have a new life waiting for me when I got back from my trip so I would never have to deal with that hellhole again. .. ha.
I was excited about my plans for this trip, though, so instead of trading back in my time I pushed forward, got my courage together, and set out to Stacy's house for a last bit of direction and supplies before I crossed the country. I received camping gear (this is important), a trucker's map, a means of getting there and back again, and a little pleasure for the road.
I took my Neon off into the unknown with music and Gatorade as my co-pilots. I made it into Indiana my first night and stayed at some non-descript motel. There is a VERY corny picture I took within my car as I passed the state sign for Indiana. You can see the sign and my thumb, and it is awesome. If I get close to a scanner, I'll upload some stuff for later.
Second night was in Great Bend, KA. Northern Kansas is a beautiful state along I-70. Rolling hills that take in whatever color the sky offers for miles on end. Southern Kansas smells like cow shit. THE ENTIRE SOUTHERN PART OF THE STATE. I ate, slept, and left in great desire to not be there, but in retrospect I should have attempted to enjoy it more, given that it was a trip of experience. Carl called me while in Kansas. I told him that he dared to fuck with my hopes and that there is no reperations possible for the pain he placed on my psyche. I told him that he should never associate himself with the idea of me again.
Third night was in Colorado. I have absolutely nothing bad to say about that state. It is so geographically different from Virginia that to begin to describe it would be unfair to those that have been in this state all their lives. The mountains shed their own colors for you, there are traces of desert to the south, the middle of the state is lush with fertile life at 5000 degree altitude. ANTELOUPE FARMS. I thought I saw gazelle, and for about twenty minutes in my car I was stunned, only saying "gazelle?" to myself. I had to take a detour since the main road was closed due to avalanches (that never happened anywhere here, totally cool!) and that lead me on a path of nothing but crisp air, deep colors in the sky, and even more anteloupe. I finally stopped at a trading post and asked a North Carolina transplant why on earth there'd be gazelle in the mountains. Secretly I was hoping that the entire African wildlife would show up, since that would be such an affront to everything I thought about nature that I'd be speechless to the point that I would become an American wildlife photographer of life not native of America. Alas, anteloupe. A common theme in my life, another dream dashed.
I almost hit three elk on my way down a mountain in mid-southern CO. It was kinda like that scene in the American Ring 2, y'know, with all those CGI deer attacking Naomi Watts because she's in such a horrible movie. Yeah, that practically happened to me. I make to a highway town and crash at the most awesome Day's Inn evAr. The manager sat me down, since I was so frazzled I tripped over an almost foot long rock plainly visible next to the door, made me some kind of decaf apple tea, and after I regained my composure checked me in to the hotel. Also at this point I should mention that I had stowed away some Breckenridge micro brew beer into my overnight bag, since I knew being completely sober on my trip just wasn't gonna happen. I downed one or two and passed out.
Next day led me south into New Mexico, a land lush with the all the colors of the desert. This day got to me in a way that I haven't been affected in a very long time.
A) I am unsure of myself and have absurd trust issues. This came about when I was voyaging towards Chaco Canyon, a national park hidden somewhere in the northwest of the state. I had taken a desolate road for more than an hour without seeing life until I hit some kind of a gas station, wherein they advised me I was in *gasp* the wrong direction. More travel, more desert, more of a growing uneasy that crawled throughout my body. I began to doubt that my reading of Stacy's directions were keen, or maybe that the map was outdated, or that he simply forgot how to get there and placed a note incorrectly. I managed to get my head about me and found, and I use this term loosely, the "path" to Chaco Canyon from the south. This "path" is nothing more than a road just wide enough for two small cars or one SUV. This path didn't even have a trace of asphault, but rather desert dirt and sand mixed with unearthed rocks from when they had taken most likely some kind of plow and pushed a road through. A brown national park sign was there, clearly stating 20 miles in to the park. A smaller white sign below it said that if you are unsure of your vehicle you should NOT drive this road. Panic. I get on the road and see nothing as I drive slowly over barely touched earth. My heart begins to race because, now at this point, my cell reception disappears, as if to be my final warning to turn around. No, this brave city faggola pushes on and, about 2/3's in on the road stops, turns off the car, gets out and nearly hyperventilates. I hade to put my head between my legs and everything. I regain my composure after I got a bar and called Stacy, who reassured my that I was not going to die if I kept driving.
B) I fear being alone, away from society. I get to Chaco Canyon, safe as houses. I park my car, immidiately ask if there is a better way out, buy things I didn't need, and headed out to the trail to hike and camp. Now, any fool knows that the CAMPground is where you are supposed to CAMP. ...
I camped in the middle of the desert.
I got out on one of the long trails, wearing a pack, carrying a sleeping bag and a tent. I wanted so terribly bad to turn tail and run back to civilization once I realized that no one was behind me, no one was in front of me, and the road stopped and I was walking a single file dirt trail amongst the history of the Native Americans which had its relevance defiled on a constant basis by stupid FUCKING people defacing the rockface where centuries old petraglyphs were first carved. I panicked again on the trail as I stopped for a water break. I couldn't stop myself from breathing heavy and looking behind me. That's when from out of nowhere I started talking to myself.
I know how crazy that sounds, believe me. Y'know how when you're alone and your brain thinks something first before you say it out loud, as if to give your mental quips validation? Well, when I was talking, I wasn't thinking. The words, this desire given voice to press on and to overcome my fears, were coming straight from whatever source has been untapped for twenty-three years.
My fears, though, were just as strong. Dusk struck the sky colors shading the pinks and purples. If my focus was not on my survival I would have been struck dumb by its beauty. Luckily for me, paranoia had already pressed me into a position of stupidity. The tent was a relatively simple one, since all you have to do is cross three long beams over the top of the downed tent, lift it up, stake it, get in, and sleep. Darkness was creeping for my life, I was chattering regrets and nonsensical wishes that were falling on a deaf world. Nothing was in the desert, and it cares not about what some lost soul has to say.
I crossed the beams incorrectly, so the tent wouldn't go up. Stars were shining in the sky. The north star watched me as desperation took hold of my body. The backpack, the wind guard for the tent, the sleeping bag, and eventually myself, were thrust into the failed tent. There, in a constant reminder of my inadequacy, I survived a night under the star-filled view. I wish I could remember more about how that looked. I would steal glances at it when I would wake suddenly throughout the eight hours I stayed there.
Have you ever heard dead quiet? I think I did, I think for a moment my ears weren't humming, my head stopped swimming in thought. I was in the sleeping bag, eyes open, trying to focus on something to listen to as I tried to get comfortable. When I'd stop moving, it's like the world would stop, too. It's at that point another fear took hold. I was alone. There's no frill to put on that, and honestly that was the only thought I could produce. I was alone.
The morning sky never looked better. There was a buildup of frost on my sleeping bag. It gets cold out there, so never go underprepared. That's very sound advice from Stacy. I packed my shit double quick, but I had to stop near finishing. Somewhere in the valley miles upon miles away from me coyotes started singing. I never saw one, but because of the natural accoustics of the mountain face I was close to, the sounds just reverberated right back into me like they were beside me. Nifty.
I drove out of the canyon and found a truck stop maybe an hour, hour and a half away from the canyon. I had a gut bomb of a burger, hot chocolate, and Coke. I read a book for a little bit. Once I finished, I tried my hand at being Stephen again. I didn't leave anything behind in the desert, but rather the desert helped me realize parts of my existence that I had no idea were present.
I saw Chrisy two days after that, we hung out, I met her man, we all saw 300 together, and I made it home.
Home, as it was when I left, is the same grind. I long for change, and a new part of me will not let stagnation take hold of me again.

Hey world, when we last spoke, I was heading in a good direction. I was regrettably still employed by GEICO, I had gotten a surprise offer from Carl, and I was eagerly awaiting the time when everything was going to come to a head. Well, today's the day! Carl is back from Germany and I didn't waste a second to organize a meeting today so that this can be organized as soon as possible.
During the hiatus, I got really sick, moreso than I was when James, Noelle, Thomas, and I wene to visit Heidi. I fell under with Tonsilitis, but I caught it in time before it became too big of a hassle. I've still got some pills to finish that off. Now, I may be the recovering sick, but my roommate is the walking wounded. Poor guy's got a host of problems to begin with, and now he's contracted what he first believed was salmonella and is now considered just a terrible viral infection, one that has him coughing at all hours, without energy, and is affecting his pre-existing problems. This apartment for a time should have been quarentined.
Now, as maybe only one or two of these readers may know, I have taken the liberty at GEICO to use up all of my vacation time so that I could enjoy some well earned paid time off. Starting, well, I guess technically Sunday, but as far as the pay goes, Monday, I am on a week and a half vacation, straight thru, paid. FUCKING HAWT. I can gripe all I want about the job, but that was one outstanding perk about GEICO, the freak'n perks (not to mention that fat-ass profit sharing check, too!) I've got it all planned out, too.
Saturday night: After workm which is about 6pm, I say my farewells to my coworkers and my family. I drive out to Stacy's to say farewell a little more cordially, pick up some camping gear and some maps that he has.
Sunday until ?: Drive out West until I hit Phoenix, AZ. That's right, for those who are really into my journal, I'm taking a trip to see my dear friend Chrisy. I mean, sure, I have only called her once to, and I should mention at this point not "ask", tell her that I was coming to visit her. I figure, no one in my family has done a road trip like this, with the exception of when my older brother went crazy, bought a plane ticket, and flew out to South Dakota to see a girlfriend that dumped him a few weeks afterward. It's high time I break the mold and live a little. I can camp out nights where I've driven too far away from civilization, I can stop when I please to visit whatever I want, since MapQuest tells me it should only take a day and a half to get from my apartment to some random Holiday Inn in Phoenix, and all the while I have a camera to document my quest.
I'm too excited, though. I need to keep myself calm. I still haven't signed anything with Carl, I still don't know if I'm going to drive my car or take a rental, and I have no clue if, when I get back, Stacy's going to want to continue with our.. whatever we are. All in all, though? Fuck yeah.

Karma. An intangible force with no means of proving its existance aside from personal experiences. For as rational as I am, I still believe that the very idea of Karma is something that holds some merit.
Carl, the ex, called me last week. He called to catch up, make sure I'm doing alright, and to, of course, ask if I was single. My usual responses aside, he then tells me something from WAY out of left field. He says to me that his personal assistant isn't meshing well with the rest of his staff and he needs someone, that he will pay (and since there's nothing signed yet, I'll just advise that it is much better than the GEICO pay I have now) me to replace her.
WHAT.
So we continue dialogue and I miss out on an opportunity to hang with friends to listen to his proposal. Carl said that medical insurance isn't included, but with what he's offering to pay that's fine since I'll be able to afford personal medical. He said that long distance travel is optional (and by this he implied out of the country travel to Italy, Germany, and who knows where else), but I would be obligated to go to New York City with him occasionally so that everyone is connected.
Now, at this point I should mention that, at GEICO, my supervisor and I got into a rather loud argument since she felt it necessary to tell me that she doesn't believe that gays should have rights. Not just the whole marriage thing. RIGHTS. She then started to use faulty, incorrect information to attempt to defend that this country was only founded on Christian beliefs. I asserted that she is a mousy cunt who is both ignorant and hateful, and that the mere idea that we work in an insurance company today depicts the true intention of our colonization. Also that she is a hateful prude for the whole homosexual thing since there's no reasoning I could devise to get past someone's altruistic "God said so" argument.
I said yes. He is coming back from Germany at the start of March and I should at that point be phased in. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I hope this works out..

I just got back home, and even the, what, 45 seconds it takes to get from my car to my apartment door my hands have already lost freak'n feeling. For as much as I want snow, and trust me when I say I'm all gushy faggy over a good snow, the associated frostbite-inducing cold weather gets to me every time. Gotta have the good with the bad, I suppose.
Well, I got my MySpace set up, got some non-livejournal friends to keep track of which is really nice. It's good to keep tabs on some people, since you never really know when you need to talk to that one person your worked with 2 years ago about something irrelevant. You can't put a price tag on that.
Hey LJ, I've been meaning to tell you this, but I think I've got a goal, and not one that I'll be putting to the side and forget about. I'm 23, soon to pass that comfortable barrier over to (OH GOD DON'T SAY IT) 24. It's about time I do something to ground myself. I'm thinking, by 2009, I'm gonna have a house. Nothing too fancy, mind you, but an honest to goodness house of my own. If I decide, which I may have to if this works out the way it should, to stay at GEICO and retain another year's worth of salary increases and Profit Sharing, by 2009 I will have accrued a handsome figure, and would have already paid off my furniture which will, of course, be following me. If I live a life of conservation this year and control my spending to essentials, of course treating myself when emotionally necessary, I think this would be totally do-able.
Now, the questions ARE..
Where do I look? Am I going to do it alone? Can I afford it once I get it? Would I be able to maintain it? what about the dungeon room? Would I have pets?
I'm excited. Having a place of my own to do what I see fit is something I really feel good about, and it's helping my focus past some other ugly parts of my life right now. Motivation. Hua!!!

http://www.myspace.com/homous_stephenus

Oops.

Say, Internet?
What do you know about dinosaurs?