Apparently, nothing

I gave up asking why ages ago. Still, I can’t help but wonder how things can often happen in the most bizarrely particular manner possible. Like today.

Through a “random coincidence,” I found myself having coffee with a certain person. He’s held a few distinctions in his life. Among them: The guy that hijacked a job away from me over five years ago now.

It’s the longest fucking story ever, but by doing a distant acquaintance at best a solid, I inadvertently signed my own death warrant.

Needless to say, this person and most anyone remotely close to the situation became part and parcel of my shit-list.

It wasn’t until I had a series of profound circumstances result in me becoming (drum roll please) a different person.

Basically, I genuinely let go of a lifetime worth of baggage—including the burning, white-hot hatred I’d harbored for this person for so fucking long.

So there we were. Having coffee. There has always been an easy rapport between us. But as we talked, I could quite clearly see our differences. This was a guy all about making IT happen, but only through the least effort possible. And not in a good way. Cheap, fast, never as easy as it looks and generally shoddy all around—this guy was akin to the Ikea of employees.

Ikea sells a shit-load of furniture. Our boss quickly kicked my high-maintenance ass to the curb and went with the cheap Swedish shit. Bad times.

Today, that whole camp wishes they were even a shell of their former selves. It’s all over but the shouting, as “they” say.

As we discussed what happened back in the day, he hit me with a line that kind of summed up my entire L.A. experience:

“Well, I nailed it with that first project,” he half-boasted wearily. “But that was about that. It’s not like I really had anything else to bring to the table.”

There it was. Once again, I found a way to put myself in a situation where success was not based on merit or ability, but smoke and mirrors. AKA bullshit.

It was and is common knowledge that I possess a bounty to bring to this particular table. Yet the “powers that be” decided to go with the lesser of two talents. Sound familiar? I thought so.

So when I think back to all of the time and energy I spent hating and brooding and seething and moaning my way into a deep, dark hole it’s taken forever to finally climb the fuck out of—they were off burning through the money, the legacy, all of it with nary a care in the world. The drugs, the trips, the women. The last I heard, my former boss had to sell his kitchen table to pay a utility bill.

Karma is real. And unlike anything else in life, has a tendency to be unequivocally fair. Imagine that.

What really happened, Pt 2

By the time we got out of her parent’s house, it was off to the city. There wasn’t much of a plan, other than dinner and drinks. Downtown was super-busy. We finally score parking and walk around looking for a place to eat dinner. We finally settle on a place and go in.

This is where she totally bugs out. All of a sudden she goes from kind of freaked-out new mom hanging out with a guy for the first time since the kid’s birth to classic bitchy girl on a date. She doesn’t like the place. She orders the most complicated drink possible, and then complains when she doesn’t like it. Then she orders a bunch of food. Cool, whatever. When the bill comes, she just looks at me. That’s when I realize that she’s expecting me to pay for the whole thing. OK, wait a minute. I fly up here on the pretense that we’re going to be doing some fucking. Instead, you’ve just been sort of weird and distant, other than getting incredibly stoned and telling me all sorts of intimate details about how much you hate your life. Fuck me running.

We get out of the restaurant, and she decides that she wants to see a midnight movie. So we go. It’s already pretty late, and we have to pick up her daughter before embarking on the ride home (which is a little more than an hour). Sigh. We watch about 20 minutes of the movie before leaving. Oh, and we smoke a bunch of weed at the movies.

We pick up her kid and head back to her place. By now the tension between us is palpable. But I’m maintaining my composure. I’ve already checked out. I just paid way too much money for dinner. I just wasted an entire weekend on this woman. My plane leaves in the AM. I’ll just suck it up and ride it out.

I’m actually happy to get back to her place. I start hitting the bong in earnest. We watch some bullshit on TV before we both crash out. Me: the couch. Her: the bed.

Weirdest moment of the weekend: On Sunday morning while we’re getting ready for the trip to the airport: I was in the kitchen, checking emails on my computer when I looked up to see her, completely naked, standing in her bedroom. It was just a moment. But there she was. She hadn’t lied when she said this was the heaviest she’d ever been. Still, I was attracted to her. All I could see was the body that let me do all of those deliciously nasty things to it. Once upon a time, anyway.

And just like that, she turned away and closed the towel. I just shook my head. Story of my life.

The difference is now

What if?


I didn't numb myself with cocaine.

I didn't blame the world/my family/my circumstance/etc for my problems.

I let people get to know me and made/cultivated real friends.

I learned how to love and forgot how to hate.

I didn't have to turn to Kristina Rose to achieve sexual satisfaction, but a real, live woman. So many xtra points if the actual woman is Kristina Rose, obvs (well, a boy can dream, damn it).

I let love happen instead of chasing it away.

I worked on something for me for at least one hour a day.

I just got stoned, worked hard and realized all of my dreams. For real this time.

What if? No, really. What if?

The worst email ever

Hi! It is the 4th July another day running into next day. I am dying inside wanting to eat. I cant move, only my thumb and head. This is no life,i pray for death. People touching me and all in my face,just pray for me,i have no prayers left for myself.