There’s a rule about occurrences and coincidences that I can’t quite remember at the moment. It concerns whether something’s awry if it becomes repeated. Crap, I’d really like to know what that theory is, because it’ll probably eat me alive until it clicks. Either way, I feel like there’s been a lot of stupid incidences that have happened that can’t be coincidences. I’m quick to get pissed off when I feel like I’m being duped. Some faults from others I forgive because human nature stipulates that some people are just flawed. Other times, I’d like to beat the offender within an inch of life for playing me as a fool. The signs are there, and I’m not blind.
I hung out with Stephanie a couple days ago, and it was a welcome change from the usual. It’s like going from a spotfest to a scientifically wrestled match, if that means anything. Her views on life haven’t changed since high school, and that’s what made us a good pairing, despite her newfound love of rap music. Seriously, rap? Why not country? T.I.’s not even that good…barring the one song that I have on my iPod. Hearing her analyze the clusterfuck that was my lovelife was more of the same, yet vibrantly different. It also made me realize how much I miss Pippa. That was not the intended effect. However, neither was the news that I went soft over the last few months.
I’ve been keeping tabs with a colleague from school that has grown on me like a cancerous growth. It’s odd talking to someone about nothing but serious matters. What does the future have in store and all that jazz. I’ve wondered what it’d be like to be nervous about important matters (like, you know, a professional life), but it has never been a concern. On the other hand, don’t get me started on the idea that I may die alone. I’m thinking about stuff I shouldn’t consider for at least a good ten years. Either way, this is definitely the beginning of something dangerous, because school (cliche alert) is around the corner, and as always, I’m on guard.
I’m concluding my summer the way I ended my school year: with a heavy diet of salsa. I’m just about fully back, and it feels good…as it should. New ideas, new blood, but possibly the same old shit when it comes to who’s (not) sleeping with who, among other things. I’ve helped out with coaching duties for my team, and, well, some people really needed the motivation. I won’t say too much because I wouldn’t pay to watch them perform if they’re not going to kick it into high gear. Whoops, said too much. Screw that. Trip to Watsonville on Thursday to visit what I will affectionately refer to as “Ciderland.” I want to go to Ciderland, and I’m on my way, even though my convoy might not be as planned. I expected as much, but horseshoes and hand grenades are all I can ask for at this point. Maybe another cosmopolitan (with my professors!) will salvage my growing distrust of people as a whole.
Er, and to rectify that problem about dying alone. How many of my colleagues are single again? Or even better, how many of them would have a fling with a guy who has a Camaro and his own place? Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – W.A.S.P. “Charisma”