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| 2011. A Gooch Oddity. |
You know those obnoxious letters people send at the end of the year that talks about how fucking awesome their lives are? Do people send those anymore? I think those letters have been replaced by people's Facebook updates involving the phrase "I love my life." Facebook has given people an excuse to do that shit everyday. The purpose of this post, however, is not to bitch about Facebook. Although I'm sure I will later in this post.
On the phone front, I've switched from my venerable WebOS powered Palm Pre to the Android based HTC Evo. Other than the oft bitched about battery life, it's a great phone. Big screen... it's like a small tablet... but it fits easily in my oversized jeans pocket. But is this a phone on which you can watch pornography? You bet.
Not drinking is almost more of an effort than drinking. Who knew that free drinks could be had by simply turning down a beverage. As if finances were the factor in my drinking soda water. With lime. Don't forget the fucking lime. I don't like to dwell on it because acting like its remarkeable is pretty much an indictment on my character. And I've done a good job so far of avoiding indictments. Let's just say it's worth trying to do once in your life: See if you can go an extended period of time without drinking. I know people that do a span of a month (one guy does three months) or more at a time every year.
My New Years resolutions began a while ago. I mean, we should all resolve to better ourselves and not require a chronological jumping point on which to do so. I gave up $140 of expanded cable in an effort that has been deemed "cord cutting" by the tech press. I don't rely on cable for a majority of my television viewing. Rather, I use services like Hulu and Netflix to watch television and what I can't get through the super basic cable (on which I do receive high definition programming) I, well, pirate the shit out of it.
I've come to terms with the fact that I own a cat (and have, actually for two years). Her cat structure is back down in my living room. I moved it into my office because having a cat structure in the living room seems like a cat person thing to do. I'm not a cat person. However, we seem to adore each other. Well, I adore her and she's kissing my ass in exchange for treats. It's the best (and most typical) relationship I've ever had.
I've entered a moratorium on dating. I mean, if you date someone you meet through friends, the imminent demise of the relationship (hey, I'm an optimist. Question mark.) will always result in imminent awkwardness and possible villification of you. Or them. But in my case, likely me.
Internet dating would be a way to go. But as an avenue in which I can meet someone that isn't related or best friends with someone I know, it's a fucking failure. That shit could work in New York, or Los Angeles. Portland, Oregon is too small a town. Both people I dated through Match dot com ended up being somehow very connected to people I knew.
Then there's eHarmony, where you fill out an epic series of multiple choice questions as exhausting as the SATs so that you can not only be rejected, but rejected based on 29 dimensions of judgment and lack of self actualization. Their slogan is "Love begins here." I need a site where "Like begins" and take it from there.
Sobriety has made casual flings a thing of the past. I lack the necessary charisma to soberly engage someone to the point where they would want to have casual semi-anonymous sex with me. And being sober and banging a really drunk chick seems wrong. Because in some places (read: anywhere that isn't a college campus) it is.
So, as I close in on month six of sobriety and its close relative, abstinence, I find myself understanding why the Taliban and/or Al Queada are so angry. I've spent my adult years fueled entirely on caffeine, Jack Daniels, vodka, and blow jobs. Without these things I most certainly would have looked at flight schools and tall buildings in a different way that the rest of the world. Muslim extremists have anti-drug messages like "Blowing shit up: My Antidrug." They also have bumper stickers that read: "I don't dial 911, I dial IED" but that has nothing to do with anything other than my crowbarring a mediocre joke in where I felt it was most (in)appropriate.
Facebook and social networking are a big deal. I won't go into my usual rant of how the clouds of reality television and the low pressure front of easy self publishing have collided to create a perfect storm of self adoration and promotion (and now, in my case, a shitty weather-based analogy). Douchebaggery is afoot and will increase in exponential factors until everyone feels they should be the subject of a reality show and I fulfill my dream of taking sleeping pills before I jump off of a 10 story building into a carbon monoxide filled garage. Oh, and there's a noose and I shoot myself at some point mid air. I just don't want the papers to question my resolve to kill myself and they'd better not dare imply that I was merely seeking attention.
That said, I enjoy writing funny things in 140 characters or less. It's like a word game exercise for copy editors. Taking something and truncating the shit out of it so that it can be tweeted is fun for me. I also write haikus and get the same kick out of doing so. True story.
In closing, I feel that the lack of dating and drinking and even using mass transit (which I didn't mention because it's not a big part of my life) has reduced my stress level a bit. It's okay to live stress free (or as close as you can to it) but there really is no payback. No risk, no reward... that kind of thing. I'll get back into it all. I guess I'm on a vacation from myself. Or I'm suicidal, which would be the ultimate vacation from myself. The state of the Gooch is "chill." I'm at a great starting point for the new year. I just hope I don't fuck it up. That's the best any of us can hope for anything: Don't fuck it up. Words to live by.
(Not proofread, not spellchecked).
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