So things have been crazy as of late, as some might have guessed by the 2-month gap between last journal and this one. This one, as all of mine, will be inordinately long but this is due to it being my M.O. and not because it's been a while, as Aaron Lewis once so eloquently put it.

As of this very second, I have two Mexicans I've never met or talked to before in my apartment, taking DVDs and clothes and important personal papers. Here in Texas, we believe in equality and expression through diversity, so much so that it would be wrong of me as an American to stop them from lifting these objects. Who am I to stand in the way of urban expression? D:

Not me.

No, but seriously, there're two nice people here from the Army, packing up some stuff to send it off to my sister. She's in New York, stationed at... _{Fort Somethingorother} and I picked up some of her stuff from her storage unit down here in Texas so that the military could come and ship it up to her. I think they do it for free.

Felt bad because my boy Jay just moved into the complex:



And he came by the other day and the place was a mess. It was partly a mess because it's been hectic lately and I haven't had much opportunity to clean, but also because there's a substantial amount of space occupied by my sister's stuff. That and my father, in an effort to clean out his garage, offered me three PC towers for free. And a keyboard, old 5-pin mouse, and a monitor. And of course I couldn't pass those up. Especially since he included an original copy of Windows 95 and a shit-ton of software designed to work on Windows 95. So now I have a tower to run old software on, since running old software on XP and such can sometimes produce gameplay problems, emulators or not.

Mentioned casually to my dad I might network some together so I could install a DBMS architecture and some good old fashioned Linux and get me some hands-on experience with them so I might further my technology skills. It was interesting to note that, at that point, though he said nothing, his "vibe" changed. When I finished speaking, I re-recognized the vibe as "waiting to speak". He's been in Iraq so long I'd forgotten how to label his vibes. Regardless, he informed me something about my "Uncle" Hugh from Australia having to do with Linux. Sure enough, some sleuthing returns this: [link]

Thought that was interesting. I wonder who else I know on Wikipedia.

Almost forgot about Haley Scarnato:


We aren't BFFs, but I mixed sound for her back when we both worked at Six Flags. Professional relationship works, right? Lol, "works". Literally.

Regardless, I'm not trying to name-drop--I just think it's interesting to find out who one knows on wikipedia. Because then you know non-sourceable things. Such as that time a certain someone did a handstand in the green room hallway and another someone named Paul caught that first someone's ankles in the air and stuffed his face in that someone's crotch.

Another someone close to me should have her own Wikipedia article, soon. Shoot, I might be the one to start it.

My good friend and fellow Coyote, Brandee.

She was asked to join the newly-formed "Singing Coyotes" music group formed by Coyote Ugly founder, Liliana Lovell. The site has some clips of their first singles. It'll be interesting for when they go on tour.

Mah Brandee:



Which reminds me...

Brandee and I were idly standing in the ice room/well at work--she was taking a smoke break, I was just chilling. And she begins to relating to me how she received the suggestion of googling herself from a friend. This is not in itself an unusual thing to do. Once I googled friends and found a man with the same name as my friend, but the man was on google's search results for saving someone from a burning building. Jokes of someone living my friend's life for him abounded.

Regardless, Brandee's search returned results, one of which was one of my previous journals. She told me she was all, "Who the fuck is this?!" until she found out it was me. Said Journal Entry.


So this is me giving a shout-out to her. She said she liked my style of writing, so I think it's safe to assume she might read this sometime in the future... Guess I'll have to stop posting those lengthy conversations I have with security about how we'd all like to "flip her cup".

</technobabble>

So that's what I told my dad when he gave me the computers. No, but really--for those who forgot where I left off, this all began with my dad giving me computer equipment and how it continues to occupy floorspace, and my chagrin at its size.

So those towers take up a definitive amount of space. As does the scanner my father also gave me and the box of cables, software, and miscellaneous items (such as a working 5¹/₄-inch floppy drive. Yes, two of the towers already have working 5¹/₄-inch floppy drives installed, one going so far as to also have a 3¹/₂ as well. Classic.

You know you're not from the current generation of kids because you remember the specific mechanical grind of a floppy being written to. That's right, kids--when I was your age, disk drives made noise. D: 3¹/₂-inch drives hold *gasp* 1.4 Mb.

That's an extremely low-quality song. Extremely low-quality.

Like, Paris Hilton low.




So anyways I got back from the movies the other day and when I got back home, I saw a familiar shape on the upstairs balcony. After a triple-take, I realized it was Jay, chillin' by himself, smokin'. Said hey (since this was the first time I'd seen him since his move-in, last saturday), went up. Bullshitted. Showed me his apartment. Said as soon as he got his PS3 back from the pawn shop (didn't NEED to pawn it to pay first month's rent+deposit, but said he wanted to just to make sure) we would play us some gamez. Saw his DVD collection and I asked if he needed to borrow a DVD player til he got his PS3 back. He said yeah. Went down to my place (I'm 111, he's 210--he's above me and one over) and he met my place. He said it... was a couple things.

(1) He said my apartment was just like he imagined it. Just like it. Considering the unusual surplus of computers and my sister's bags of clothes, I didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

(2) He put my initial quandary to mind by saying that he loved my apartment. Made some "jokes" about stopping by often.

(3) Said he wanted to make his just like mine. I have beer/liquor merch on my walls. My "bedside table" is two computer towers with a surplus of Encyclopedia Britannicas between and on top of them to form a solid base, and then a tin Coors Light sign placed on top. Ghetto much? But he said it was clever and original, so I'll go with it.

Anyways, let him borrow my PS2 (my puter plays DVDs) and some DVDs of mine. Borrow some of his. Still haven't watched them yet. Ever notice how when ANY two people talk about DVDs, someone will always ALWAYS utter the obligatory, "What? You haven't seen insert-title-here?!" D: As flabbergasted as if you haven't ever heard of the Bible. I think it's an inate human trait. Something tells me you could be in Steven-fuckin'-Spielberg's house and he could press his secret button to reveal his larger-than-any-video-rental-store-you-can-imagine DVD cache and walk you through and pull out a movie you've never seen just so he can get that look on his face:

D:

The classic ohnoes face. "You've never seen such-and-such?!"

And you know what? You have every right to take Mr. Spielberg to your measly PBS-friendly DVD selection and return the flabbergastedishness with, "What, Mr. Spielberg? You haven't seen the ridiculous sci-fi movie "Land of the Spiders with a very early William Shatner?!" "But... that's, like, the greatest movie of all time!"

You would be a tool for saying something like that to Spielberg, but you could still say it.




Was walking Candace--a newer waitress--to her car a few weeks ago, and the cellphone went off of some tall lanky guy right as he was passing us. It was the Imperial Theme from Star Wars. Candace basically facepalmed as much as possible without actually doing the motion. I actually facepalmed right there in downtown San Antonio. commerce @ Losoya St.



Was beginning to get a bit down because I hadn't been hit on by any female customers in a while when the next night, that's exactly what happened.

First was this lady (I say lady because she was a very, VERY cute late-30s, early-40s. Like, go-go-Gadget-prostate 30s. She motioned to catch my attention and, once she had it, said very silkily, "Why aren't you on the bar?" To which I quite eloquently, with utmost finesse and dictation, replied, "Uh..."

The goofy smile I'm sure was the icing on the proverbial cake.

That didn't seem to deter her, though. Her friend was making some faces and vibes along the lines of, "But he's half your age", but her friend didn't seem to be receiving them. I made some comments about unfortunate rules and me not having the required equipment... and of course, in retrospect, I would have said something completely different. I have a response prepared for next time. She was cute, but I (purposefully) didn't stick with the conversation. Regrettably, I was a tad behind and needed to catch up.

Girl 2 caught me right at closing. I was washing dishes in a hurry to knock out as many as possible before the roach lights came on (read: fluorescents, so named because they're obnoxiously bright) when this girl right across from me asked me out of nowhere, "Why are you so quiet?"

Despite the length of my journals, I do get asked this question quite a lot. I used to be EXTREMELY quiet.



And while it's been a progressive thing for almost a decade now, working at Coyote has really sped up my emergence from my proverbial cake. I mean, shell.

Coming out of a cake is something.

So I explained to the girl that I was just "focusing". Multi-tasking, and such. She asked what I meant by that so I gave a quick synopsis of my barback duties. In the middle of my duties, the roach lights came on.

Roach lights signal 2:00 AM. Most often, ALL of the bartenders get on the bar to do one last dance for the evening and I get the chance to grab up as much of my stuff from behind the bar as I can while they're all on the bar (a.k.a. out of the way). I got the girl's name, Mari (which is, coincidentally enough, the name of one of the bartenders), but I was going back and forth grabbing limes and mats and glasses. On one of my return trips, she was gone. :<

Sorry, Mari.

Here's hoping you got some action that night, wherever you are now.

And in looking for a "toast" emote, I found this:

Bullshit. Toast could so pwn Batman.




Went to do a bankdrop with the GM the other day and her dad called her on her cell on the way there. As we were pulling into the bank parking lot, she made some parting to her dad and hung up. I don't remember exactly what
she said, but it prompted me to ask if her dad ever had any nicknames for her, and she said yes.

Her: "Sugar Booger"

Me: "So can I call yo--'?"

Her: "No."







Srs part. If you're not into serious introspective parts, you can skip to the next chapter. To sum up this chapter: Colonel Mustard in the library with the Mariah Carey album.

I've only recently come to realize something within the last year: people, more specifically adults, have very poor follow-through. They're incredibly bad at doing what they say they'll do. I'm not separating myself from this, there are of course things I forget to do, things I procrastinate on, but not to the extent I've seen in the last year or so. And it's over such a wide variety or areas, too. Everything of course relates to events and appointments, since that's really the only area where this could be applied, but regardless.

People saying they will do things, and never following through. Even after multiple reminders and suggestions. There just reaches a point where one gives up. Where each successive reminder is made with less sincerity than the last because I feel more and more with each time the inevitability that it's not going to happen.

I can't help but wonder why, but I have a feeling the reasons depend on the individual person and situation. To reduce something as inately complex as motivation to a 0 and a 1 isn't even worth pondering, much less trying.

I was dwelling on this the other day and wondered if it applied to non-Adults as well. At first, generalist cynicism shouted out, "Of course kids do, they're human, too!" But I've been thinking about it and I think the lack of follow-through on a person's part is directly dependent on just how much they have to "follow through" on. Kids can have bad follow-through when it comes to things like cleaning their room or doing homework, but overall they don't have to worry about follow-through because they don't have much to follow through other than getting to base before getting tagged.

So... fresh idea here. Maybe adults' lack of follow-through is a passive-aggressive way of not dealing? Well, I knew that. It's not uncommon for people to agree to do something when they have no intention of doing it, but what about when the person not following through is the one who suggested it? What about, when they're reminded, they once more go on about it for a good hour because they genuinely want to see it happen?

See why I'm confused?

I have pretty clear suspicions about why certain people haven't followed through with certain things, judging by their Hayden Christensen-like attempts to hide that their entire body language has shifted around me. That's a reference to bad acting for those who didn't catch it.

More bad acting: [link]




I find it interesting that "tell me about it" means exactly the opposite. When someone says "tell me about it", they're actually saying, "I know exactly how you feel". While it's not (usually) said with the intention of ending a conversation, that's what it does. If you and I are in a nerd gathering and I say that I feel the Systech Aural Blaster is a greatly underrated weapon, and you say "tell me about it", then there's no need for me to say anymore. In fact, you stating for you to "tell me about it" is usually where the role of speaker gets transferred.

People are retarded.




I'd made a note to recount something specific to Bianca...


But I don't remember what it was I was going to say because it was quite a while ago...

I know that I worked with her a few weeks ago. Was awesome. Lots of time to talk about things. :3

Let's see. She was downstairs at the host stand. Kept her company for a while. Talked about everything from Tomb Raider (which she absolutely loves) to how neither of us can understand Hardcore/Screamo.

She's so awesome.




It's not a Schwarzenegger finale, but it's an ending nonetheless.

Went out after work with:

We went to a place down here called Howl At the Moon. It's a franchise so the one near you might be the same idea: dueling pianos. Regardless, it was hella fun.

Rosie got completely trashed halfway through the night. Disappeared for about 20 minutes. And just when we started asking, "Where the hell is Rosie?" she was led back to our table by a bouncer. Apparently she'd spent the last 20 minutes talking to the female bathroom attendant.

Some guy she knows came and picked her up. It was Amy, Brandee, and me. Much hilarity mixed with much heart-felt connecting ensued, none of the latter of which I'll repeat here since it's personal.

The former?

Let's just say it wasn't too long before Amy bought a stuffed snake for her boyfriend, about 3 feet (1 meter) long. And it wasn't long after THAT before the snake started seducing my right nipple with its tongue.

So yes, it was a good night.

And as soon as ^lemontea gets his ID from the state (), he can come too. And =chinaroses when she stops by during her road trip. And ~haggleman when he visits in a few months. D:

Unless ~haggleman starts trying to seduce my nipple as well, in which case we'll have a problem.




Some miscellaneous pictures I've had on my phone for a while now. Just finally got them off of it.




To conclude, I leave you with the info that I've found my doppleganger. This is something that involves a lot of detail and links and pics and videos, so I'll save it for next time because this journal is already no doubt tl;dr as it is. Though I hope it's not actually "tl;dr" because I'm told my journals are very entertaining by many people. Either way, suspense.

Just know that, upon viewing one of the videos, my mom exclaimed "omg". It looks that much like me.

Next time.

I could be a Jeremy...