April Moon

Anthony has been off the radar recently fighting the good fight, studying the good study, and trying to save the cheerleader, because if she’s saved, then the world is saved. Is that true? Well, I don’t know any cheerleaders…which means the world is screwed. Does anyone know where I can find a cheerleader? Anyone?

I’ve been living the life of a rockstar/loan shark/grad student, and quite frankly, I need sleep. April has been one of those months that just screwed with my system due to commitments and more commitments. I drove up north to Watsonville to fight my speeding ticket, but the cop was there. So, er, that didn’t go well, but I opted for traffic school to keep the point off my record. I should probably finish it one of these days, preferably before June. I drove there in my beautiful, beautiful Mustang that’s damn near perfect from my modifications. I’m unapologetic about the awesomeness of my car. I’m also prone to speeding, which is why I was in NorCal in the first place. I did enjoy the trip, as it got me away from work and school. Sometimes, I don’t know what the hell I’m fighting for, so I drive with the top down to see the world in HD. Groovy.

Salsa events have consumed the rest of my time, namely the last couple of weekends. I feel the need to give myself a cool unofficial executive title, such as CSULB Salsa Special Czar of Black Operations. I’m not going to say I’ve been everywhere, but I’ve been everywhere. The calls, the strategy sessions, the substitutions…few people knew how useful I was, or how connected I remain. Well, when people from other schools refer to me as the Shaman of Sexy, I guess that speaks for itself. Funny aside, some country dancers thought they were going to lead the line dances at the Social Dance Party; I guess Phil hadn’t informed them that I’m not dead yet. I told them to get out of the way, since it is my show. They complied, as they had no choice. Charlie Sheen would declare “winning” after this course of affairs. I’ll copy that, and add a bottle of cider to it. After all, salsa is a fractured state at the moment, yet the primary parties (namely me and the other old guard) had a job to do, and we did it. Now, retirement in the garden.

Grad school…I want my teaching gig back. I miss being in front of the classroom, and I relish not going to work forty hours a week. In time, I reckon, I’ll go back…if not, I figure it’s time for me to look for a real job.

Girls. Meh. One year ago, Pippa and I had did our dance. It brings a tear to my eye thinking about it, because that’s one year with her that I’m not getting back. As a matter of fact, there are two years I lost. I lost my year with her, and I lost this year with grad school. In the fall, hopefully no more years lost. I’m working towards a new beginning with someone that doesn’t fit my usual criteria, but hell, she’s an angel with a devil’s cool. The other two stormtroopers are taken; as such, the greatest stormtrooper of them all should join the party. Oddly enough, we’re not even dating yet; accurately speaking, we’re courting. And I’m enjoying it for what it is since there’s always ulterior motives and alternate plans. And Mortal Kombat. Can’t forget Mortal Kombat.

And er, I do know a cheerleader that happens to be a Laker girl. How? Simple, I taught her. None of my other fellow GAs can lay claim to that. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Nas feat. Puff Daddy “Hate Me Now”