Friday, March 26, 2004

Now....onto the dating adventures. This is where the shit gets intense. I've been creepin the online dating scene...lavalife, friendster, myspace, makeoutclub, match.com, all that garbage. I'm not sure if I really expect to find someone on here, or if I just want to fuck with people and make them miserable. I definately want to bother people, that's a given. But finding someone special would be a nice little bonus. I'm a real sexual force to be reckoned with online. I took all these glamour shots of me and listed the descriptors "sensitive asshole, self-centered, never satisfied, etc" into my profiles. My username is "Intense_Bro" for several of the sites. Strangely enough I've gotten some inquiries and even had two dates with women I've met online! Both have been total floosies, of course, but that's exactly how I wanted it. And I'm not really even interested in sex. Conquest, yes, but the actual intercourse is intimidating to me. I'll get around to that later. First I want to get my feet wet as I haven't been on a "date" with anyone in years. My first date was a good start. I shant mention her name, but I met her on Lavalife and took her out to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants (an Italian place). Her profile was interesting, if not a little desperate. She turned out to be an incredible bore. And spastic as hell. Really twitchy and unattractive. She reminded me of Sofia Coppola in her ugliness... she'd be smiling nervously one second and that smile would quickly turn into a frown as she'd look away and make a pathetic giggling noise. Someone must've really hurt her badly in the past. That sucks, but I'd rather not deal with it. So I did the only thing I could. I politely excused myself from the table halfway through the meal, and hung out in the bathroom for about 45 minutes. When I came back to my table, the check was paid and the table was being cleared. She was gone. Took a cab home I guess. I went home and played X-Box for a couple of hours. Good date.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

I cried a lot last night, while I was trying to write some poetry or something meaningful and I don't even remember getting anything on paper except for some doodles of me naked inside a spaceship. But I woke up this morning, face-down on my desk, with the following written on a piece of paper affixed to my cheek with drool. You see, in my new quest for a sidekick/lover, I've found myself developing all sorts of crushes on people around me (mostly women). I've even been on a few dates, as I've been scouring the dating scene (both on and offline). Still, I somehow became infatuated with this girl in the office who's been there for a few months but for some reason I've never paid much attention to her. The obsession was quick and painful and I got the message and am trying not to bother her now (which is pretty easy as our departments don't have to interact too much) so hopefully I can now move on to more proper dating experiences.


...and i tried seeing her through a camera, hair falling apart like ribbons. tried to let her know i was really here, not a monster inside a well-dressed shell. aren't i though? i wanted to be loved for who i was and not who i am and certainly not what i am on my way to being. i could try to love her, i know this, but could i ever touch her, pleasure her like a ripe persimmon would under a tree under a sun, away from all those dark days. 'i like you but you're not really there' i think she was trying to say, and i understood it and i knew we could never be together. she couldn't know me anyway. she can't even see me, no matter much i see her. hoping she'd look back just once, say 'i'll love you better than her' but i think what she wants to say is 'your life is a tv show and i dont get you at all and i dont think you care about anything, not anything at all.' i tried letting it go, no more camera. mental snapshots only, and maybe some drawings or a cluster of numbers that would remind me of her somehow. she is very calculating, and she can see completely into me and know that there's nothing to be salvaged. a good little boy turned into an indifferent young man turned into an often malicious near-grown man. camera becomes binoculars, and it hurts to look at her from so far away.

Monday, March 08, 2004

Being Al Roker

I awoke with a sweaty brow at about 4am this morning, frightened and unsure of my surroundings at first. Within seconds I came back to reality and began to breathe deeply, realizing that I had been dreaming, and that I am in fact not Al Roker. I had yet another nightmare. The large amounts of melatonin I've been taking every evening might have something to do with it. I've been having difficulty sleeping lately, and taking melatonin seems to help me engage in slumber. The recommended dosage is about 2mg, but I've been taking anywhere up to 10mg, depending on how restless I am. Lately I've become very anxious...probably because the veil of security that comes with having a steady girlfriend has been lifted. Sometimes I lie in bed and start crying, or laughing, or talking to myself softly, or humming, or masturbating. In every scenario, I just can't get to sleep. My mind's flooded with imagery and emotions. Images of desired lovers, friends, coworkers, cell phones, video games, movies, Iraqi civilians, Haitians, Chinamen, etc, fill my head. I'm trying to get a grip on myself and not take any hard drugs, though I am sometimes tempted to. But I don't really consider myself much of a drug user. So melatonin seemed like a natural alternative. And so far, it's helping me sleep on those restless nights. The problem is that one of the supposed side effects is increased lucidity while dreaming. This has proven to be true, but another side effect is that taking more than the recommended dosage can result in nightmares. This has also proven to be true, but I'm almost fascinated by my nightmares, so sometimes I'll swallow five pills and whisper to myself "bring it on." I did that last night, almost eager to see what my brain could conjure in my sleep, and the result was not at all disappointing. I dreamt that I was Al Roker (the old Al Roker...fatter, and seemingly more jolly because of this) on the Today Show, and I was interviewing the crowd of fat cattle that amasses outside the NBC studios every morning for the show. This one group was a typical gaggle of Alabama fatties, holding some stupid homemade banner that had their names on it and the name of some county they live in in Alabama. I asked them what their names were and they all started giggling and screaming and saying hi to like twenty different people back home before I cut them off and pulled the mic away from them. "Ha ha! That's great! Thanks for comin out, gang!" I said with a smile. Then I started doing the national weather, but the screams of all these women and children cut through anything I was trying to say. "A little icey in New England this morning, as this cold front's moving in here, and..." but no matter what I said and how loud I tried to say it, it was completely drowned out by the inane babble and screams coming from these morons behind me, as if being on the goddamn Today Show was the greatest thrill of their worthless lives, which I'm sure it was. "And in the west....in the west...in the west...we see...in the west WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP? JESUS CHRIST...DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO YOU? I'M AL ROKER! THE FUCKING WEATHERMAN! I'M TRYING TO TELL PEOPLE WHAT THE GODDAMN WEATHER IS GOING TO BE LIKE TODAY...YOU UGLY, HORRIBLE FUCKS! DO YOU REALIZE HOW FUCKING HARD IT IS WITH ALL OF YOU CONSTANTLY SCREAMING? THIS AIN'T NO GODDAMN PEP RALLY!" The anger felt very real. I couldn't tell that I was dreaming. I was Al Roker. I felt such intense levels of frustration that this had to be real. I felt myself staring at the crowd, glaring at them with red eyes, a foamy venom dripping from my mouth. I breathed heavily, angrily. I wanted to devour the crowd...to go at them like a dervish of raw, evil energy. Children started crying. "YOU! Shut the FUCK up! NBC doesn't pay me, unless I do the goddamn weather and say my goddamn line, so I'm gonna do it!" I turned to the camera, screaming at the top of my lungs.."YEARGH!! AARGH! That's what's going on in the country.....here's what's....here's what's....here's what's going on in your neck of the woods! AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" I could no longer form complete sentences. Katie Couric showed up and tried to talk some sense into me, and I was trying to tell her how bland she is and to ease up on the fucking mascara, but all I could get out were guttural growls. I was just about ready to pounce on her and devour her, but then I woke up, sweaty, angry, and extremely hungry. I managed to get back to sleep and have a somewhat calming dream of being completely isolated in a little floating apartment in outer space before my alarm clock went off. As I sat on my couch eating my cereal and watching the Today Show, I was almost positive I saw a glint of madness and supreme frustration in Al's eyes as he tried to do the weather with the hordes of monster tourists screaming behind him. I started chuckling and then quickly became somber, because I actually empathized with the poor man. "I know Al, I know." I said aloud. I don't think I want to have any more nightmares for a while.