Conspiracy of One: Civil War Victorious

Listen, you want a class on tradition? On one condition, forget the best of the century; when you talk about the best of all time, you’d better mention me.

There is nothing better than winning, especially when the path taken has been a pain in the ass. I’m not an easy guy to deal with when I feel mildly disrespected. However, I take the Belichick method to a new extreme: I don’t bend, and I sure as hell don’t break. In the last week, I’ve gotten two apologies from the opposition. I’d rather not fight with two comrades, but if I must, I see no reason to restrain my true ability. Considering the stress I’ve been under, I did what was in the best interest of the only one who mattered: me. At the end of the day, look out for number one, because numbers two and three are unremarkable.

Both started with misunderstanding of policy. I thought we were on the same page, and I was proven incorrect. One tried a sophisticated variant of my Basic Offense, and another used a more straightforward approach. I would have rather not chosen to engage in such a manner that alienates me from the rest, but if I’m going to take a side, I’m either dead left or dead right. The middle road is a fine line between win or lose. I always pick a side for one stiff point:

I do not lose.

Taking into account, I thought I may have challenged myself too much on the issues, but then, I stopped overthinking myself. One party decided that my point had merits, and stood down. The other party realized trying to cost me my job was fruitless, because he jeopardized his own well being; thus, the obligation to make amends. I don’t always seek to start battles, but if I’m engaged, I will not lose.

Maybe now, I can start eating properly. I’ve driven myself weak enough that my coworkers have asked me if finals have come early. In other words, unintentional weight loss indicates stress. No matter, I’ve won. No more meddling or coddling. I will play the game the way it is supposed to be played. Why do I play?

I play to win the game. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Goo Goo Dolls “What A Scene”


Conspiracy of One: Paging Dr. Frankenstein

I’m a teacher first and foremost, or at least that’s how I fancy myself. A teacher lives to see achievement in their pupils; if that’s not the case, the teacher should find a new profession. Anyway, the worst case scenario has occurred:

I’m starting to loathe my star pupil.

Jared and I don’t really see eye to eye these days, or at the very least familiarity is breeding contempt on my part. To think, I took the guy when he was a meek loner and gave him a voice. Literally, I picked him off the bench and tried to give the guy some charisma. He was always smart, but for fuck’s sake, he wouldn’t know charisma if it stormed the ring wearing a leather jacket. With my input, he actually talks to people, girls, etc. As I rack my brain trying to figure out where the schism began, I tend to think he became too self-aware in the sense that he crossed the line between cynical to full-on bastard. Last time I checked, the aim was to tread that line very carefully: one side leads to lack of credibility, the other a lack of respect. Or something along those lines.

He became way too comfortable in his shell; I started noticing it when he wouldn’t stop addressing the aesthetics of commentators on ESPN. Mind you, I love ESPN, and I’m not watching it to check out guys. It took considerably more time than I preferred, but I offered him the opportunity to leave my realm if it was too much. Then there was the notice that he wouldn’t be returning in the fall. Scratching my head, I came to one conclusion:

This effort and investment is coming around to kick my ass.

After that, I basically wrote the guy off as temporary; commitment is four years, maybe five for most. Considering he’s breaking that for a reason that doesn’t come close to feasible, he’s damn near persona non grata in my book. The only difference is respect, because I’m sure I don’t like or trust him.

Now, it’s back to the basics: two girls on my list, and money in my wallet. Reinventing the wheel is always fun when I keep a spare in my closet. Speaking of throwing things in the closet, I think I may need to have my roommate removed; I don’t need two self-assured weasels in my dominion. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Collie Buddz “SOS”

Conspiracy of One: When All Else Fails…

Go to work on your day off for Valentine’s Day. Which is an odd story in itself.

Starting with the truth and symbolism, people who know me know I can’t stand Valentine’s Day or Christmas, due to hearts and mistletoes, respectively. Some people declare it Single’s Awareness Day, but I’d like to think of something much more…sinister. However, as I’m not anti-capitalism, it wouldn’t involve anything with money.

So Jared nailed Lyric last night…there’s a joke in there somewhere.

As for myself, I spent time doling out flowers to a couple of people: my mother and Amy. Shocked the hell out of both them, because I’m known to be a romantic, yet not compassionate. My mother told me it was a refreshing gift considering everything lately. Somehow, I’m not sure if Amy was happy, surprised, or troubled. Don’t really care though, considering it took a lot to clear my conscience of that.

So after that, I go to work to pay a visit, where the store remains in chaos. It’s fitting how a chaotic person can calm the chaos within a store, which is what I did. I can’t remember the last time I was nauseatingly nice to people, but I digress. I guess working behind the counter wearing a (cue symbolism) red jersey with the number half the date is enough to make me grin. A couple of other coworkers came in, a visit from the cops, and a late night depiction of a phallus on a car named for an equestrine animal…it’s the stuff dreams are made of.

I’m also a learning coach at work now. I think my official name will now be Anthony Guy, LC. That has a pompous ring to it. Here’s to next year, and getting a peck this year. Skibbedebebop. Much later

Current Track – Tony Harnell “It Doesn’t Matter”

Conspiracy of One: Two Days Until…That Day

Riddle me this, riddle me that: who’s afraid of the…forget it, never did like that joke, but Jim Carrey was genius.

Well, Valentine’s Day is about to come and go, but since it hasn’t, let’s take a look at my efforts: none. Are you serious? None? Damn. This year I’ve really outdone myself in simplicity I’d say.

First and foremost, I’m having some flowers delivered to mother, so that will result in a nice dinner sooner than later. I have to pick up flowers for Amy, who I hope is progressing nicely. Lastly, I was cheap and decided to steal two Starbucks on-the-spot congratulatory notes. The story of both of them are starkly different…one’s positive, and one’s negative, like a battery charge.

I shot Raquel a card while we engaged in salsa. It was more nice than sarcastic, at least in her belief; she was really touched by it. Made me happy, although I may have seemed a bit overzealous because I couldn’t keep my eyes off her the rest of the night. She likes her steak rare, while I prefer well done and smothered in A-1. Honestly, I eat steak sauce with everything. Well, that was the good, and now here’s the bad.

A girl named Christine happens to be in the class. We got off on the wrong foot in the beginning. I tried to make amends. She didn’t even want to read my note, which was basically an apology, something I don’t hand out often. She refused it, and in the middle, I basically said “fuck it” and left her, because dancing with someone who’s very uncomfortable with you is, for a lack of better words, uncomfortable. Unfortunately, uncomfortable became the theme of the moment as I accidentally shut off the lights while leaning on the wall. So, she took me back and we finished the song, but after that, no mas. I think if I’m attracted to another Christine, my first objective is to sprint away. Not walk. Sprint.

Lastly, I spent an inordinate amount of time dancing with Valerie, a friend from previous classes. We probably danced five or six songs. It was fun, she has a really tight closed position, and well, there’s undeniable chemistry. The thing about chemistry is that there’s no way to fake it; you can try, but true chemistry trumps any ersatz any day of the week. There’s a subtle gleam in the eyes, a calm tug at the palm, comfortable interaction between forearm and side boob…well, you know. Chemistry rocks, no matter the differences. She was small, but damn, I can’t match that presence with everyone. Funny story: she has a huge truck. She’s all of maybe five feet, yet drives an imposing Nissan pickup. I scratched my head after that one.

Must outlive the addage “familiarity breeds contempt.” Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Rob D “Clubbed to Death”

Conspiracy of One: Tango Collapse

I committed a sin by my standards today: I inadvertently injured a dance partner. True enough, she had completed the same sequence ten seconds before; it was unexpected that the second time would be painful. Ballerinas can jump high in the air and all that stuff, but shoes can be a killer. It figures that the one time someone gets put on the shelf, it would be for dancing with me.

Normally, I’d be a bit gleeful knowing that my moves could take an experienced practitioner to task, but it broke my heart to see her on the ground in pain. The moment stood still as I stood watching it unfold. She took it pretty well, or considering, better than I did. In a rush to conclusion, I was just about ready to drop the class, or at the very least, cease movement for the rest of the class. My friends convinced me it was a freak accident, so I swiftly returned to do what I do best, minus one choreographed step.

Jordan got screwed over today at work, but handled it pretty well. The last time my job screwed me over, I offered an unsolicited vociferous rebuke. I’m pretty sure once he meets the person responsible for this, he could channel a bit of my negative energy into a comprehensive strike.

Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and as expected, I’m on the outside looking in. I wager it could be worse, but not necessarily sure how. On second thought, I could come home to see my ridiculously immature roommate being ridiculously immature. However, since I gave him thirty minutes to negotiate with a girl after I had a contentious shift at work, I’m sure I’d be less hospitable this time around. In fact, if he mentions anything to me in any matter not resembling sobriety, I may just have to cane him. But now, I must consider the alternatives, which mean preparing for work and the new conquest. That, and spicing up my dance steps, because I’m sure Amy will be back in a couple of weeks, and who knows, I may be first on her list.

I’ll be damned if I didn’t see that coming the first time I locked her in closed position a year ago. No really, I saw it coming. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Britney Spears “Piece of Me”

Conspiracy of One: Close the Book/18-1

Watching the Patriots close their season with a loss makes me unhappy. The fact is, they weren’t trying to run the table; they only wanted a championship. In fact, their season mirrors my life story in ways: they have plenty of talent, like myself. They have numerous other achievements to enjoy, like myself. They kept their goal in sight despite all distractions, like myself.

Then, the big game comes, what they’re truly after, and BAM, failure. Like myself.

Contrary to popular belief, I am still wearing the sweatshirt sans sleeves. I believe in the Belichick method wholeheartedly, even though they did unabashedly tease history. Scary thought.

Basically came to terms with Laura today, and well, it’s about time. Threw my feelings out there, she threw her boyfriend out there, I threw my resolution out there, and that’s how it ended. According to history, I’ll never see her again.

Hung out with Jared, David, and Helen today. Notes as follows: David is still funny as sin. Jared needs to hang around more black people, because I have a feeling Massachusetts has given him an odd sentiment of what black people are like. Helen needs to break out of her shell, because she could be funny as sin.

Valentine’s Day in a couple of days, and I’ve yet to get started on next year. Again, picking targets could not be any easier, but it’s about fundamental execution. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Akitaka Tohyama “Driving Beats”