I just got back from our Floyd evacuation. This wonderful storm totally blew the better part of this week for me. My school closed Tuesday morning and won't open until next Monday. Someone pointed out to me today that while we all have this wonderful sense of accomplishment in cleaning our yards and fixing up the house, we're right back (if not farther behind) where we started on Tuesday. Not only this, but now I get to make up four days of school during a much needed break. I'd rather be able to plan a vacation out than have a surprise one sprung on me.
My new apartment is sweet. We have it all decked out (sorry I can't go into more detail but I don't need amateur detectives on my case). I'm really worried that we got some flooding from the storm since my room is the one that leaks. My classes are manageable and I've got a crush on my science teacher. It's pretty cool the second year in college; you can walk into class and usually find someone you knew from last year. And, of course, being in our own apartment we have enough beer on hand to make Norm from Cheers jealous.
Mike's Words of Advice
1. The person you're lusting after in the dark doesn't look so hot the next day in the light.
2. Never piss a girl you know off if you're in the market for one yourself. They have mouths and their friends will take their girlfriend's word over your own any day.
Question of the Month
Everyone who wrote me last month (both of you), thank you so very much for responding. Guys, please, write me. The therapy portion of this is done for me. Now I'm just doing it to hopefully spark someone else into writing. I've noticed a lot more new writers in the past few months. It's awesome. I'd just like to get a little feedback from someone &endash; anyone. If the column made you smirk, write me. If it pissed you off, write me. If you think I'm a decent guy, write me. If you think I'm a total dork, write me. I light up when I see mail from the column in my box. That's the only thing I get to this account. Otherwise it's dormant. Just once I'd like to see eight at once. I'd probably drop a lung seeing that.
The two that wrote me last month basically confirmed the weenie-to-preference ratio that I relayed to you all in last month's column. Cool. So, what's up for this month's?
***How many friends do you have that resulted from a wrong exit on the Hook-up Highway into the Friendship Zone??***
Personally, this has happened most every time. I hate it. I'm beginning to think that it stems from getting to know someone too well before you go to bed with him or her. Anonymity is key. Let me know if you think I'm full of shit at the address below.
Okay. I'm finished for this month. This new 19 year-old is getting tired.
Here is a bonus for anyone who scrolled down this far. I wrote this the first week back at school. I guess I forgot how bad the first semester is in meeting people. I also think that this is a lot of pent-up summer frustration showing itself. It was a struggle to decide whether or not to publish it. Keep in mind while you read this that I had had a few in me and I couldn't see too well because of the tears streaming down my face.
I'm too short. I may be the average size for a kid my age, but I'm too short. I'm only 5'10". I may gain an inch or two by wearing sneakers but other than that I'm a short little dude. Why should this matter? Well, I seem to be pretty upset right now so I'm willing to guess it does matter, at least to me that is. I just came back from a night out with my roommates. They're both tall. I'm the short little southern boy. None of the girls would talk to me. Sure, one ugly one did. Maybe I need to lower my standards. I seem to attract a lot of ugly girls. Maybe the pretty ones are just out of my reach. I say this because my geeky roommate knows all the pretty girls that walk by and he has absolutely no personality to speak of. I feel like I have a lot to offer but no one sees that. They just see the lonely boy surrounded by his so-called friends holding a beer and longing desperately for some companionship. Just someone to talk to and share my feelings with. Someone that can understand me. Someone that can appreciate all of me not just the times when I'm good but the times when I'm bad. I'm sorry. I can't be witty all the time. I'm normally a guy with a lot of comments on life, but sometimes I just don't have any material to work with. Is that so bad? I like to think I'm decent looking. Maybe a little above average. Am I too short like I think I am? Am I sending out the wrong vibes? Do I look too young? What? What, goddamn it, what? Fuck you. Fuck you all. Fuck all the people I call friends but are not. Fuck all of you that come to me when you need cheering up but forget the favor I gave when I need it. I've got feelings too! I'm a person too. I can only keep up my happy façade for so long. Sooner or later it's got to come tumbling down. It did again tonight, and I'm letting it fall to the floor. I left my shitty friends at the bar I came from tonight. Let them go to hell. Can you believe it? I actually considered the idea of me getting shot or hit by a car a good thing as I was walking home. Never mind the fact that I was able to leave the bar without my fucking friends even knowing that I left. Great guys. Really. Fuckers.