So I officiated the YMike/Jenna wedding on December 11. I got ordained on the internet and performed the ceremony. It was an absolute honor. Scary as hell, but once it was done I truly felt like I was part of something amazing. I thought that planning a bachelor party was the pinnacle of marriage ceremony bliss; this tops it for sure. I'm happy for Mike and Jenna and their families and, again, honored to have been a part of this event.

It's ironic that the wedding occured on the anniversary of my divorced parents' marriage and that I myself can't sustain a relationship to save my life... despite the fact that I just brought two people into a state of matrimony. Oh well... I'll figure this stuff out eventually. My latest reconciliation is looking like a crash-and-burn. At least I was given the opportunity to work through issues I had and maybe allow myself to have a healthy relationship someday. I've spent a lot of time being "the other guy" for several different girls. It's an okay scenario when you just want to get laid, otherwise it's painful. It's fitting for me but shallowness was only meant to be temporary.

Everyone that told me that my latest relationship endeavor was a bad idea should know that I appreciate their concern, but I had to figure stuff out on my own... and this is the best way to do it. No matter the outcome, I'm happier. Notice the self control that I've displayed for almost two weeks. No benders. I feel like I have a super-power; like I'm Moderation Man! I'm tired.

Moderation Man:OUT

Ymike's (The groom) Xanga Site

The Love Column: 7/23/2003

I'll never write anything as good as that again. Okay... someday I will. I've stayed sober for over a week... I drank, but I've not done the crazed liver assault that would have typically happened by mid-week. Clarity is a motherfucker, but making an ass of yourself and trying to remember what you did the next day is no way to go through life. I think that I've suffered for nearly eight months from heartache. I never dealt with it other than with drinking. I've tried to move on by dating good looking girls, but I always ended it because I was too hurt over my ex - or they ended it because they sensed the same thing. Also, this is a small town and when you date enough girls they end up hanging out with each other, which drives me fucking nuts; talking about me the same way old ladies talk about laundry detergent or carpet cleaner... I'm not an appliance. I'm also not a role model. Read the "Breakup Column" linked above and know that It's the rantings of a bitter man who'd just come to the conclusion that the world is screwed up and your worst fears will always be realized. If you think your girlfriend or someone you're dating stood you up to fuck a guy... just act like you know it happened. They won't deny it, likely. If you think it happened, it probably did. Don't kid yourself... don't become your own worst enemy. Follow your heart? Your heart is a fucking idiot. Your friends know best. Better yet, follow your dick and put a ball gag on your heart and throw it in a box... like the Gimp in Pulp Fiction. Only pull your heart out for special occassions, like a kid's birthday or something. Sobriety sucks... but it's necessary. Moderation is the key. I no longer have to drink myself passed out in order to get through the night or even simply be social. Whatever happened and is happening this week is a series of events that has knocked me from a depressed funk to being, well, angry. My best friend in the fucking world just said to me: "It's easier to be angry than sad. Maybe not easier, but it looks cooler."

I... I think I'm back. I became ordained online and am honored to be performing a wedding ceremony for YMike and his fiancee Jenna. They're getting married on my parents' wedding anniversary. My parents marriage... another reason I'm screwed up. Maybe last weekend and this weekend are so absurdly surreal that they were meant to give me a message to shut the fuck up and move on. I feel like jogging, just running as fast as I can for as long as I can. That would last about 20 seconds. I've got to get the day started. I'm pumped. I'm energized. I'm moderately sober.
I'm Gooch, dammit.

YOU MAKE THE CALL:

It's 2am... I've got a drunk girl in her car in the parking lot in front of my condo. she won't get out of the car. She just moans and holds her position. She's completely fucked up. I don't want to leave her out there, but there's no moving her. I've stalled, fighting with my ex for a while. I don't know what to do. Do you? I've even said "the bears will get you," which is what I used to say to my ex-girlfriend's son (you laugh... but it almost worked). By the time anyone reads this, she'll have puked in her car. Shit... i'm tired and want to go to bed. This designated driver stuff is bullshit. I picked the wrong time to stop binge drinking.

Fuck it, I'm going to bed. i've locked her in her car and unlocked the front door to the condo.

Fucking bizarre weekend. The words "I love you" mean nothing to me anymore (unless it's to my Mom). I'm not having a pity party... I've never been happier. I'm glowing.

Yawn... indeed.

Metrosexual -a definition: A straight, usually heterosexual urban man, with a keen interest in fashion, shopping and elaborate grooming, who is really passionate about clothing and body hair, sometimes wears make up and nail polish, a man with refined aesthetic sense, not afraid to exhibit his feminine sides.

Monday Night: A friend called to have me meet her at Skyland for drinks. Before I knew it, I'd consumed six Red Bulls and Vodkas, a personal record. I was cut off not because of the drinking (although they'd have been well within their rights) but because they were afraid my heart would explode. I woke up hungover at 7:30 Tuesday morning on my friend's couch(pretty standard, really). I started consuming water and I ate a bit of omellete in preparation for the day's activities.

I'd volunteered to participate in a "Wet Lab" put on by local police and liquor control officials. What I did was drink from 9:30am to 2pm in an effort to get drunk so that bartenders in the area would get a chance to observe and identify drunks in a controlled environment. I was already hurting from the night before and actually passed on breathing into a breathalyzer before drinking, should the previous night's binge result in a positive responde from the breathalyzer. I consumed nearly a fifth of Jack Daniels, almost unheard of for these events. I blacked out around mid-day. I do know that I wouldn't quit engaging the Troutdale Chief of Police in conversation. I also was drunk enough to ask out the City Attorney for Troutdale... she was drunk enough to agree to it. I believe all commitments are null and void when your blood alcohol level is above .20. I'll have to check the rule book.

After that, the next thing I remember is waking up... again... on my friend's couch. I was wingmanning for him on his date that evening. A date which involved... drinking. I ran into the one girl I've actually really liked since the end of my last serious relationship. I quit dating her because I "couldn't get into dating" but I would have liked to have seen her sometime other than the tail end of what would be a 32 hour drinking binge.

I did take some of that Hangover Stopper supplements you can get everywhere. They seemed to work. I think they're just charcoal tablets, which you can buy anywhere and have been available forever. No hangover, though. I believe I am suffering from some chemical inbalance which has resulted in a severe depression. This sucks. I want to crawl in bed and cry but I've got goddamned work to do. I'm sure the whiskey liver-bath is to blame.


CHEERS. (WHAT'S UP MICHELLE M?)

I'm thankful for the flowers that were sent to me while I was working at the Pub last night. Nothing more intimidating than a tearful bouncer holding flowers.

Anyone in to skateboarding in the eighties knows who Mark "Gator" Rogowski is. I just watched a documentary on his life - a life that saw the heights of financial and popular glory and the lows that led to a 31 year prison sentence. Interesting stuff. Here's some links:

Village Voice article 12-8-92

Stoked: Movie website