My Wishful Thinking

Mood: wishful Food: bleh none Crude: hill-billie thong


Robert Frost
"A man will sometimes devote all his life to the development of one part of his body - the wishbone."

Gotta love Bobby Frost, even if he can be a little weird at times.
It's funny how you can think you are walking on the path of eternity, everything is ok and for sure, and then out of no where you run into a group of feral house cats that scare you into on coming traffic. It's almost as if my fortress of solitude is now a stadium forever filled with highschool bands practicing 24/7. What do I do with life?

Sorry it's been so long since I've written, today was my ex girlfriends birthday and with this coming up, I havn't had much inspiration to write, unless it be self serving and emo. I just wish...nevermind. If I were to wish anymore, a genie would come out my ass.

Also nothing really exciting happens in the life of Nigel. Perhaps pizazz isn't something that happens to people, but rather is self inflicted. Can I really help if people look at my average life and not be amazed?
Lets see the things I could do
1. Rob a bank
2. Longboard down the biggest hill in my city
3. Tell my boss what a douche bag he is
4. Grow a mustache
5. Scientifically engineer mutant hamsters whose only purpose in life is to collectivly gather up all the change lying on the ground so that I would have a fortune (after I pay for all the equipment used to engineer the bloody rodents).

ok, now for the reasons WHY I cannot perform these miniscule tasks.
1. I am not johnny depp(public enemy), nor am I the Heath Ledger (joker) or billy the kid or anyone else who was criminal smart. I would probably end up robbing my own account.
2. I have already done this.
3. True the statment may be, however, if I have any hopes of not being kicked out of the rents, earning enough money to go to puerto rico for school in the summer, buy a two-thousand dollar camera, I will not speak such words (out loud)
4. Sure, that's what a guy who already is pronounced 100% Mexican but has no mex-blood in him needs. Especially since this guy is living in the south. Plus only a certain few men can pull off the stache and even fewer are they great men. Hulk Hogan, Theodore Roosevelt and Winston Churchill are several off the top of my head.
5. To have the funds to accomplish such a task would require the same genetically altered hamsters in the first place to gather the cash to supply said funds. Paradox.

Oh the life of me, how boring it may be.
I trudge along, doing nothing wrong.
Give me some excitment please.

My Physician

Mood: Ecstatic Food: Co Co Puffs Crude: Uranus

It is three in the morning, I say goodnight to camfrog and go into my bedroom for round two with my arch nemesis - Sleep. The alarm goes off what seems like seconds later. 5:01 and I'm up and in the shower.
I had to visit the docs office today. If you know me, I am not a fan of docs. Not a fan of medicine, not a fan of prescription, not a fan of awkward physicals with hott doctors.
Not all was lost because it was a voluntary decision to visit, for it was for a study which upon leaving the screening i would walk away with a solid 50 dollars. Holla. Gas money for five days! Hells yea!
It's some Medical Study screening to see if you are capable in participating in the study and for the majority of it, it was quite awkward. Me not being an awkward person this only solidifies the statement.
Medical Study (6:30 AM)
Never had done one before, a study that is. They stuck us all in a room like guinea pigs with chairs so close together I can tell who managed to grab a stick of deodorant before leaving their humble abodes. One of the lady's name tags was upside down. Greeting fail.
I was the youngest there, by far. Was that just me getting a head start on life? People who were older and wiser were going to earn some extra dough? Maybe that's how families make it with our crippling economy.
Or was I stuck in a confined room filled with "Wal-mart" empolyees who just got off the creepy night shifts? Eh, Whatever
I had brought too many forms of intertainment. iPod, phone, book, two journals, news paper. Choices, I think when we have too much to choose from that we become indecisive.
7:30
They took my temperature...orally. Thank God. I know it seems quite ridiculous that they would do it any other way, but so far, this entire escapade of mine has been filled with oddities. Seroiusly, if an icecream truck filled with living knomes who handed out battle axes made of candle wax landed in the room, it would have made more sense than the tests they were putting us through and the questions they were asking. Out of pure bordem I decided to mess with the nurse.
Nurse: So do you suffer from amnesia?
Me: I don't remember what that is.
Nurse: Well, when you get older your brain begins to...
Me:No, I don't remember what that is...
Nurse: Oh! hahah stop it! Anyway, next question. Do you have sight problems?
Me: No mam.
Nurse: Do you have trouble hearing?
Me: What?
Nurse: Do you have trouble hearing?
Me:What?
Nurse: hahah stop it!

The density of her skull amazed me.
8:00
Urine Sample. They probably have cameras in the bathroom to make sure you don't fill the bottle with apple juice. Sneaky bastards.
Next is taking blood. I've never had blood drawn (and was not drugged up on morphine, unconscious) before today and truth be told, I was scared. A frightened fear doesn't describe it, it was more like an unsure child about to do something unknown to him. Always had a problem with needles.
my breathing becomes erratic,
my thoughts drift constantly towards fear without boundaries.
It is my turn
.....

8:15
Kaplah (which is Klingon for 'sucess')! Somewhat. Got a little light headed after the first time she stuck me. Ya, that's right, FIRST TIME getting blood drawn and I get to get freakin Intern Nurse! So she called over a more expierienced nurse because "his vein keeps moving". Oh ya, my fault that you keep stabbing my poor defensless arm in an attempt to vampire it. Thanks ITT Tech, you trained a nurse who is hell bent on making me look like an addict.
8:40
Hott doctor gave me a physical, only from the face to the shoulders, no action for me. Plus she is married, but strangly was not wearing a wedding ring. Hmmm.

All worth it when they handed me the fifty dollar check that I earned from slaying the bordom monster, fighting off crazies from wal mart, peeing in a cup, and being attacked by an assassin nurse with a very visible tattoo. Ya, super south side.

My Shopping Spree

Mood: Tired as hell. Food: full. Crude: Ear Cheese

Vampire penguins, zombiefied guinea pigs? We're done for...

So, it's still raining. I got lost in my city. I hate down town. I hate mapquest more. I honestly think mapquest was created by college students who wanted to screw with people by randomly selecting one in every fifty users and sending them in the COMPLETE OPPOSITE DIRECTION.

By the time I made it to our lady of the lake university I already had to find parking (without paying) and grab the kids to run across town yet again to get them some food where mom could pick em up. Love the kids, but why does everything they do have to be so bloody far away?

Ok, Breakdown of men shopping vs women shopping.

Men - Figure out what they need
Women - Figure out what's NOT in their closet and go out looking for it.

Men - Go to where they need to go and purchase item.
Women - Find item, but continue looking just in case there is something else that they don't want at the moment that might reveal itself and pique their interest.

Men - Already home.
Women - Now have a shopping kart full of crap they don't need, require or even wanted upon discovering they were "missing something in life".

Men - Have money to hit up the bars later.
Women - Have daddies money to hit up the bars later.

So I wanted to hang out with my friend...well I'm not going to say her name, so we will call her blondie. Blondie and I hung out and went for coffee today, after we were done with coffee I told her I needed to buy a black button down shirt for a wedding I'm ushering in. She said she'd acompany me.
I plan out four places that might have the item I wish to procure and start with the mens warehouse. We walk in, the lady takes my measurements, hands me a shirt, I try it on and buy it. Simple enough. Done. It didn't take but five minutes of our time so I asked blondie if she needed anything and I'd take her to get it. She said she still had a barnes and nobles gift card and wanted to use it. I love book shopping. So off we went.
She tells me she wants this C.S. Lewis book so we go to the fiction section and she looks at the book. Somehow still undecided she wanders off to the "Classic" section and looks at books from Dickens to Thoreau. An HOUR AND A HALF and fifty other writers later she finally decides on the bloody book she looked at before. W. T. F. Oh and she purchases a magazine. Slowly I come back from my lethargic hibernation I placed myself in from what seems like months ago and gather up enough energy to drive her home.

Can someone tell me why girls do that?

My day

Mood: awake. (craving) Food: cheese sandwich. Crude: Monkey butt coffee beans.
So I keep a journal, a physical journal for all you sarcastic imbeciles whom would happily jump on that statement with your "well duh, you are blogging right now".
This physical journal usually keeps the majority of my thoughts, wishes, inspirations, emotions and annoyances whereas the blog keeps more of the deep things.

But my hand writing sucks. Real bad. I need to take some penmanship courses or something. Seriously, if you were to carve out the cave man wall etchings and place them in a shot gun, fire them point blank into a can of paint, then proceed to go Jackson Pollock on the paper, you would have to take another two steps back to even begin to comprehend the jibberish at which my writing suffers.
So today I "write" my plain thoughts in this blog.
I hate it when I have a great idea, or an epiphany but I am out or driving or with people or anything that really keeps me from journaling that very instant. For those of you who don't know me, I am quite forgetful. Yes yes, I do in fact suffer from male refrigerator blindness syndrome and other things as well, however, we are focusing on forgetting things.
I forgot my work shirt today and showed up for work, I forgot my garage door opener when I dropped my car off at the shop, I forgot what I was going to tell you I forgot next, I forget peoples names, their likes and dislikes, I forget to practice and most of all, I forget to write things down to remember them.
I had two somewhat important thoughts that I would have loved to convey to my audience of one (myself, seeing as I don't tell anyone about this blog and no one reads it but me) but couldn't find a pen and my journal in time to save the poor little idea's lives. So now I'm stuck here, between questionably insane and comically entertaining.

I guess I could always talk about the weather. It's quite rainy. Taa Daa.

My Spouse(s)

The thought of marriage is something everyone thinks about at some point in their existence. Whether it be out of desire, hate, satisfaction, completion, planning or spontaneous.

When you finally believe that you have found that person, your heart sinks into the acidic pits of your stomach, but can't be burned because the love emanating from every artery of your heart is a shield to all that will attempt to hurt it. It is this love that makes our knees weak, our jaw unhinged until we salivate so much, it fries our brains until we can only babble like idiots at their presence.

And then two years later you find out how much of a Bitch they can be.

This is not a hate post, a broken heart post or otherwise. It is simply stating facts of life that we will all encounter when not following after the plan set for us by God. Not a plan of control, but of hardship, because lets face it, love ain't easy. God loves us whether we like it or not. And he will love us forever. Just sayin.

Anyway, just had a convo with the ex, she honestly believes herself to have completely turned her life around and now is "greater than thou", only it is out of her resilience towards any standard of living that "frees herself" from these humanistic ways of thinking us lowly ex boyfriends must retain.

She's a crazy psycho hose beast from hell.

My Choice

Every choice unwillingly has consequences on people known or unknown to you.

The actions we take will affect everyone around you one way or another. A life lesson to be learned from this is how those people answer your unspoken call is completely up to themselves. You may have opened a door to them, but they choose to walk through it or not.

To continue thinking that you made a person a certain way by the mistakes you made is not only self-destructive and problematic to others around you, but it is also extremely narcissistic.

Every choice we make has the potenial to butterfly effect in everyones life, seen or unseen. People are by nature products of their environment. They are imperfect, react and are all subject to murphy's law, they do however, always have a choice. They can choose to clam up, push people away, resort to humanistic ways of escape, keep the baby or not. We must always know that it may be the cause of pain, but is not the cause of choice. People either choose to react or respond. And that is their choice, and their choice alone.

What we do after wards is yet again, our choice. We can continue hurting ourselves looking for a way of escape, whether it's escaping what you know is right or what you know will ultimately help, or we can choose to give up the pieces. We are always saying how we are broken after something traumatic has happened, but that is always a chance to start anew.
I once was reading about chains, that held us to our past, being broken and it inspired me to start fresh. Upon said revelation I found a little dog tag chain that was unclasped. I proceeded to carry it around throughout the day as a sign that I am letting go of the past and moving on. It wasn't until I lost the chain that I realized that, metaphorically, I was continueing to hold onto the very chain I was freed from.
Those chains of old may have been broken, but we need to stop picking up the pieces and just let go completely to find true freedom.

Finally, to think for one second that you are the cause of someone elses path they now choose to walk is very vain. You are not the author of their story, you are not God in their lives who looks down on people and makes them do one thing or another. It is probably one of evil's best trick to make you think that you have all the control. Control of your own life, control of circumstances, control of her, him or them. It is most certainly a chain that is to be let go of.

The answer is simple, the choice is hard, but not out of reach.

My Self

Flirting.

I have been told that latinos are more likely to be very forward with their flirting than most. There are no studies on this, no statistics or proof. There is only information.

Sipping on my Starbucks iced coffee I peacefully read my book in the brisk, beautiful sunny and bright day. My thoughts, blocked by the writers imagination on paper drew me into the characters and their lives. Ignoring all human senses other than that of thirst I drifted into a land of make believe.

Upon the climax of my story was the urgency to utilize the facilities. =)
Placing the book down, I made my way to the bathroom when I ran into two young, attractive girls I had never met.
"Should I mix banana smoothie with my chocolate smoothie? Or do you think that would taste bad?" The slightly more attractive one said to the other.

My first intial thought, nay, my first impulse was to explain to her the difference in taste between the two and start up a conversation that would lead me to explaining to her my history with Starbucks. Perhaps this would spark her interest.
I quickly regained consciouseness and continued on my previously unhindered path to the bathroom.

Why was it, that my first thought or REACTion was to flirt, woo, and or create a "connection bridge" which had no other purpose other than to get her affections for later purposes?
Was it my charismatic personality? Was it "Sin"? Was it lust?
Has my mind become so used to the idea of having someone care for me, that I go beyond my previous purpose (almost unconsciously), out of my way, in an attempt to get in her pants?

My mother once told me that she believed that one really starts having a handle on another language when they start dreaming in it.
A statistic showed that to make something a habit (doing something without thinking), you must consciously preform it over 35 times.

Have I degraded to the very disgusting male malicious behavior I abhorred? The Status Quo Men have in our days is one easily met, because it completely focuses on his own needs and desires. He has become society's detritus in his attempt to "hit it and quit it".

Focusing on the negative will not help me or anyone else. My habits are vicious right now, but that doesn't mean I have to continue living like that, though long learned habits aren't easily broken.

Creating new habits that will lead me away from the status quo is not easy, especially for one with a sexual past as colorful as my own. Treating woman how man was created to treat her, respectfully, honest and with a heart to watch out for HER safety are the habits that I want to posess when encountering situations that will present themselves in the future to come.
Or maybe I shouldn't be so A.D.D. and just use the bathroom when my body tells me too. =P