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I read it again and thought, “I don’t think I should be posting this here.”  It’s not because it’s too private and embarrassing, because a big part of this blog exercise is to overcome my insecurities by just posting them on the web.  Then I have to be prepared of one of two things:  1.  Being ridiculed or 2.  Being ignored.  Either way, I either find humor from it and overcome it, or realize that people don’t really care, and I’m on my own in battling these gremlins of mine.  Of course the desired outcome would be:  3.  Regardless of how trifling my issues are, I get positive feedback and heartfelt support, but those responses are few, far in between, and given by a select genuine. (you know who you are)

But again, vulnerability is not the issue, at least when it comes to myself.  It’s because of what I do, and the risks involved that I must sanitize my next entry.  To preface, it’s a June 13, 2010 entry that highlights my trip from San Angelo, to Spokane, then to FWB, along with misadventures in Tampa and Anniston, AL.

It’s been over a year since I’ve written here, at least I think so.  I forgot to date the last one.  It’s consisted of a good many ups and downs.

My WoW addiction started up when I was in Goodfellow.  I gave up about $500 a month just to satiate it.  I did this by renting an apartment instead of staying in billeting, pocketing that $500.  Plus, that apartment was in a shitty neighborhood.  And, it was a shitty apartment.  Instead of going out with a decent group of folks, I wasted my nights playing WoW instead.  Granted, I saved money by not spending it on booze and restaurant food, but I lost out to hanging with good company, and perhaps making some new friends and having awesome experiences.  I’m suprised I passed Goodfellow, but that’s because I was forced to study, and I had to study in school.  I worked out a good amount too, but not to the extreme like I did in Monterey.  Again, it had a lot to do with WoW, but the Texas heat contributed to it.

There it is again.  That damn game.  Seriously, it’s is both my solace and my bane.  Back then though, I was pretty ridiculous.  Renting a $500/month apartment when I had free room and board and pocketing that cash and then some?  Not going out was bad, but not outright horrible.  I did save money not drinking everyday.  But I still ate fast food, went out to restaurants, and, kill me please, spent $500 on an apartment I didn’t really need . . . in a shitty neighborhood.  From what I remember, my neighbors were a former vet who tried to con me into lending him money for his “online casino business,” and a couple who I suspect, were drug dealers. (the last one probably isn’t true but it made me wonder when they just left out of the blue)  Yup, I risked all that for inter-webs.  Geez I was stupid!

After Texas I went to Spokane.  That took me out of WoW so I had some decent experiences.  Made friends with a colorful taxi driver who used to be a radio DJ.  The first weekend was a bar hopping/clubbing night.  Thought I was in with an Indian chick, but I may have fucked that up.  It didn’t help that one of our crew got belligerent and I had to take care of him, while another one of our crew became her pillow at the end of that night

That DJ was awesome; best conversations I had with the guy about I can’t remember for the life of me.  And suffice it to say, I may not have screwed up my chances with that Indian girl completely, but given the right circumstances (minus the violent drunk), a better social mindset (not transitioning from WoW geek to barfly in 0-60mph) and not drinking so much (a problem that has killed many of my attempts), I would’ve been telling a different story.

Then I went to Hurlburt.  Sad to say I continued my WoW addiction there.  The 30 lbs I managed to keep off came back.  Also I lost out on some other social shit.  I went back to Los Angeles for Christmas and New Years, and immediately Jonathan noticed my malaise.  It would continue until my 32nd birthday, which I kept from everybody.  It was at that point that I got verve to improve myself.
I started by buying self improvement books such as “Way of the Superior Man,” and “Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway.”   Also PUA influenced books like “The Pick-up Artist” and “NLP for Dummies.”  Also I started to do the exercises that were in the bonus CD of “Interviews with Dating Gurus:  Hypnotica.”  It was an uplifting month and a half, but looking back now, it was very bittersweet.  I thought at the time it was for my self-improvement, and I was improved definitely.  But, really, as always, I was motivated by a girl.  All successess and failures were as a result of my interactions with her.  The inner drama that occurred in my head were because of her.  I’d like to, and I should say, and perhaps I would have earlier or say later that regardless, I gained a measure of enlightenment in this whole process, but because now I’m back to my malaise, I feel as if now that it was all for naught.  Let me continue on with the rest of my recap, and perhaps once I am done, either I will conclude that it is because of the events I will illustrate was the cause of my downfall, or just write it off as “C’est la vie.”  At my present state of mind I will opt for the former


Yeah fuck that game.  Yes, I got fat again.  Yup I was a wallflower.  Yerp I spent my 32nd birthday alone, at home, eating a pizza (at least that’s what I think I did I don’t remember)

Now I’m not gonna say I’m over doing stupid shit over a girl, but I am gonna say the more I fall flat on my face doing it, the wiser (or colder) I get.  To this date, I’m doing pretty good, or at least have done a pretty good job catching myself before I do it.  Again, that’s not to say, some attractive woman is gonna knock me for a loop and make me play like I’m some PUA again.  I just hope that when I do, it’s worth the work.

The rest is about a one night stand in Tampa, a waitress that led me on and blew me off (not that way) and a waitress that at the time I thought was in to me but found out later had a boyfriend and a kid with said boyfriend so . . . bleah.


I was doing well with my magical books, but now the magic is gone, or I am now immune to it.  I was writing 100 words minimum a day, and now I’ve stopped.  I was taking guitar classes and now I’ve stopped.  Activities that I promised myself I’d get into like yoga and getting a massage has gone by the wayside.  The only thing I’ve been able to maintain doing is my social dance classes, but the special events they have that I wouldn’t turn down, I’ve turned down.

I’m lying to not go to parties again.  I’m becoming anti-social again.  I’m losing my vibrance.  Is my life really this full swing cycle?  Are my highs gonna be just as intense as my lows?  That’s what I feel like at the moment.  Spring time 2010 I was unstoppable.  Now it seems summer I’m vulnerable.  I’d like to say, “Fuck this, I’m gonna take charge of my life again!!”  However, I lost the energy to.  I might just have to ride out this trough and wait for the start of the crest again.  As long as I:  A.  Dont’ start playing WoW again, B.  Don’t start smoking, and C.  Don’t get fat again, I should be ok.  The fatness has started and the cravings are coming.  I can’t bring myself to end on a positive note.  But I will say this . . . or I won’t.

And there is the entry that shows my crippled ego, or psyche, or whatever it is that’s grabbed a hold of my soul’s nuts and has not let go.  This is the writing I’ve done since I wrote that up there last July.  I gave the guitar to my brothers.  I have yet to take another yoga or salsa class.  My muscles are knotting again.  I barely went to parties when I could.  And it’s taking all the energy I have left to finish this.  I don’t care if the note is positive or negative.  I just want it to end . . . well.

This has been a damn, long entry, and it’s cut into my sleeping time to do it.  However, I’m glad I did because I’m writing again, even if it is a weepy journal.  Now I’m not saying this is going to spur me into writing a story again, but if it does . . .

Fuck yeah!