There’s this meme I stumbled upon last winter that treads the line between funny… and stalker-y

He blocked me on everything, so I applied to his job… see you in the morning

Yeah, it kinda feels like that. I am back in town from my summer adventure for a couple of days to tie up some loose ends, only to discover she’s back at my job.

Well, if I come back after the summer, that is.

Life comes at you fast.

I’m still shook. I don’t even know what to think. Why does she still get under my skin, anyway?

Well, I hope the new/old gig works out for you, baby girl. Have a great summer.

I want to see you, but I can’t call you. I want to need you, but I can’t have you.

Then again, maybe I don’t want to see you...

And, maybe it’s true when they say you really can’t go back.

What i'm listening to:

Fall in Love
Caroline Kingsbury
Heaven's Just a Flight

I had a revelation yesterday.

I am continuously approached by beautiful women.

Have I noticed this before? Or am I that oblivious?

It’s so obvious. The Mexican beauty who keeps me fed. The beautiful new bartender who feels compelled to tell me her life story. The gorgeous army girlfriend who ventures across the room and talks for thirty minutes. The dazzling Jamaican who brings me home on the second night.

Yet, I am oblivious. How. do. I. not. know. what. to. do. about. this?

I get in my head. I don’t steer the conversation in the obvious direction. I put up walls.

Why would I let a beautiful young woman in my life?

Read that last question again... what am I, an idiot?

Will I really give any girl a chance to win me over? Or will I continue to listen to the haters (voices) in my head?

Why do I hear my grandmother’s voice telling me I’m older than her parents?

Does this really matter? After all, love is truly blind, deaf, dumb, and stupid.

Truly. Then again, apparently I am too. We can smell our own.

Sure, I’ll give any girl a chance to win me over... but girls don’t want to work that hard—especially if they’re having to jump through hoops and crawl through the swamp.

Okay, so now I’m aware of a bit more of my power. Awareness is curative, but it will only go so far.

The next big question: what will I do with this awareness? This power?

What i'm listening to:

Talk to Me
Shaylen
Santa Barbara

Blue-eyed girls have no soul. Actually, anyone with blue eyes. All soulless creatures.

Remember, you heard it here first.

What i'm listening to:

Strange Embrace
Kitten
Pink Champagne

Why?

It’s been nearly three years since we last spoke. The missed opportunity that broke me. I never want to miss another chance like the one we had.

So, why does my heart race when I see you?

What is it about you? What is this effect you have over me?

Why do you still dazzle me?

No lie, I still want you. I tell myself I don’t need you—and maybe I don’t—but why does my heart race?

What i'm listening to:

The Flame
Cheap Trick
Lap of Luxury

Ages ago, I was lamenting about some shortfalls of the internet at that point in time (2007).

Well, my friends, the internet has evolved. Risen to the challenge.

I now have the trombone WAH WAH WAH sound to set as a ringtone when “adults” call—the “voice” of Charlie Brown’s teacher.

And also, the soundbite from when Samantha twitched her nose on Bewitched. Works great for a text notification.

The resource for the sound clips above also provided me with a long-sought-after quality ringtone of the bionics sound.

I was a bit astonished to discover Huey’s date—whom he found himself stranded on a desert island in the “Stuck With You” video—to be the wife of Pierce Brosnan. Not at the time the video was shot, but eventually. Small world, indeed.

In fact, there is a blog written by a published author where he seeks out many of the “Who’s that girl?” from the decade of excess’s most memorable music videos.

For example, did you know the stunning blue-eyed girl the Boss pulls onto the stage in the “Dancing in the Dark” video went on to star in a quasi-popular sitcom in the 90s?

The more you know! I am still waiting on the internet’s ability to deliver smell, however.

Society needs to stop with this acceptance trend. It seems everywhere I look, people are increasingly unhappy, unhealthy and unsatisfied.

And it’s not because I think you’re fat. Or ugly.

It’s because you’ve given up. Why have you given up?

Why should I feel ashamed because I am attracted to that petite girl with the little waist, luscious ass, perky tits… AND a bubbly personality?

Why shouldn’t she accentuate her beautiful eyes with eyeliner and mascara. Or make her kissable lips even more irresistible with red lipstick?

And why should you hate that “skinny bitch” because you couldn’t be bothered to wash your hair, put on a bra, or pluck that stray hair before you wobbled out to get another Big Mac with a Dr Pepper and milkshake?

Yet now we get offended because the opposite (or same, I suppose) sex doesn’t find us attractive? It’s called bullying. It’s called fat-shaming.

No, you need to take care of yourself.

No, you don’t need to do it for me. Pride maybe considered a “deadly sin,” yet a little can go a long way. If you like the way that “skinny bitch” looks, she’d probably love to share what she did with her hair, what make up she prefers, where she got that sun dress.

And if that sun dress looks terrible on you? Well, gym memberships are very reasonable these days. Plus there’s the outdoors for walking. There’s push ups and sit ups that can be done with no extra requirements. Then, there is always CrossFit.

It also doesn’t hurt to consider that just because the food industry has ensured we can have volumes of sugar. at. each. meal. doesn’t mean we have to.

The worst thing to come from the cola wars of the 1980s is that soda is more readily available than water. A couple of generations ago, a cola was considered a treat—to be enjoyed once a week, or maybe even once a month.

Your body is telling you it’s not quenching your thirst, yet you need those sugary bubbles, so maybe another can of Mountain Dew will hit the spot. Or another 12-pack. Why make diabetes trendy?

And what about fitness?

Once upon a time there was an assessment in grade school called the Presidential Fitness Challenge, or something similar. Whatever happened to it?

I’m not going to lie. I was a fat kid. And unflexible. I did terrible at half to two-thirds of the assessments.

Yet, compared to kids on the street today, I was a young Adonis. I can’t imagine many of these kids doing a single sit up—much less thirty in a minute.

Say what you will about bullying and fat-shaming, pressure from our peers—both good and bad—can influence better decisions. It is a shame most don’t take insults as a hint they could do better.

I didn’t like it either. Again, no lie.

Yet, now I’m in the best shape of my life. And I’ll reserve the right as a former fat ass to call you fat.

And I have no guilt in being attracted to dazzling young lady who is rocking that bikini with her tan and her tight body.

You’re not okay. You’re miserable. And you don’t have to be. You can fix it.

What i'm listening to:

Crush
Jennifer Paige
Jennifer Paige