This is a theme I’ve been tossing around for a while in my head. The older I get, the more I look back fondly on how things used to be. It seems like the past is always more attractive than the future. Lately, the past has been popping up more and more frequently, so I figured I’d wing a blog entry on the matter. I’m still not quite sure yet where I’m going with this, but I’ll hopefully know when I’m done.
Back before I even knew what the internet was, I started a blog. Well, a journal. I was forced to by a 7th or 8th grade teacher. I think it was Mister…Lockrey? Luckily, I still have the thing, so maybe I mentioned his name inside. I’m not quite sure what the idea behind it was, as far as us learning anything, but we were supposed to dedicate a certain amount of classroom time every week towards writing in them, and we would get graded on our efforts. If we didn’t want him to read the entries, we were supposed to let him know and he’d just skim. I never really wrote anything worth guarding, although I did invoke the “OMG PLZ DONT REED!!11!!” clause when I had my first encounter with true love. Let’s open this puppy up and share. Here’s my very first entry, with my nickname “Sparky” written at the top of the page. My comments will be in bold:
“Well, I’m not sure what to name this journal so I’m not sure if I will. Last weekend xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx (This part was later scratched out. I think I might have bitched about a friend sitting nearby…wait. I read through the scratching – it was just a typo. My penmanship sucks…) I went to Canadohta Lake for Labor Day. Up at the cottage, where we stay, Margot, Julia, and Pierre was (ugh – shoulda been “were”) there. Margot was an exchange student in high school from Botswana, and stayed at my grandmother’s house. Margot now has 2 kids – Pierre and Julia. My grandmother & grandpa were there, too. (I guess I was too cool to refer to them as “Mema and Papa”…) At the cottage next door, my cousins Margaret (13), Anne (11), and Tommy(8) were there. We stayed up the first night at their cottage just recording stupid things with a tape recorder, like the theme song from P.J. Sparkles. Also, I will hopefully be in the last sailboat race this coming weekend. Bye.”
Pure poetry, I know. Anne, if you’re reading, I KNOW you’re all about that particular memory. I look back at these entries and cringe. I was awkward back then, and I had the overwhelming need to make my mark on each entry. I figured I needed a catchphrase, or at least an ultracool way to end each entry. Later on, I experimented with “bye,” “see ya,” and “Bye!” Once, I even signed my name at the end. A few months into that, none of those ideas really “clicked,” so I stopped ending them with a flourish. Finally, I got the bright idea that I needed to trademark a signature, so I started putting a symbol at the end of each entry. It was a circle, with the letter “S” fitting inside it. It pretty much looked like the Yin and Yang symbol:
Of course, mine didn’t have the funky black/white effect or the eyes, and it was inverted from how this image appears. But yeah – I thought it was cool. It stood for “Sparky,” which again, was my nickname back then. Through the years, I’ve been called by several nicknames and I’ve answered to all of them: Jerky, Sparky, Possum, Doc, and Doox. Only one of those was self-given.
Anyhow, I made it through the school year and stayed with the journal. For some reason, I kept it. Throughout the year, I talked about friends, one of my first crushes (much <3, Karla), and family angst. I decided to keep writing in it every now and then. I continues to talk about my 1st girlfriend, and how we broke up. Seems someone started a rumor about me doing something that I wasn’t, and she took it as gospel. Actually, that REALLY sounds familiar as I’ve recently dealt with something similar. It chapped my ass quite a bit, and stuff like that always has.
You see, I’ve never been a perfect angel, but when I fuck up, I react completely different than when I’m innocent. I was a strange kid who would try things just to see what would happen. Back when I lived with my mom and Dickhead (former stepfather), I got a hold of some green spray paint and decided that the bushes near the garage door weren’t quite green enough. Don’t ask. Later, he asked me if I had painted the bushes green, and I know I had a look of fear on my face that I was desperately trying to change into a look of utter confusion. I think the end result was a look of terrified constipation. I denied any wrong-doing, but half-heartedly while eyeing the nearest exit. He stopped asking. I think it was because he was trying not to laugh because of how ridiculous my lie was. Unfortunately, he wasn’t always like that.
Around the age of 9 or 10, I was once accused by him of doing something that I truly didn’t do. I forget what it was - I think something out on the porch spilled, and he blamed me. For once, I was 100% innocent, but he had none of it. DH was a guy that intimidated me, but then again, just about any adult intimidated me at that age. I was still so infuriated by the accusation, that I yelled back at him. For me, that was completely out of character. He made me sit down and write 100 times on a piece of paper, “I will not spill blah blah blah.” Again, I don’t remember exactly. I was steaming over the injustice of it all, and realized that I had to write or I wouldn’t be able to leave the chair. I did it, but I still rebelled in my own little way by only writing it 80+ times, and would every now and then write, “I DID not spill blah blah blah!” To this very day, it still irritates me. Unreal.
Throughout the years, I’ve been faced with similar situations. Back when I used to work at an oil refinery over the summer that my family once worked at, I was a summer scrub who did things like mowing, weed-eating, and clean-up. I was having issues with my weed-eater that day. The damn spool kept on falling off, and while I was getting good at fixing it, nothing I did lasted long. I finally got frustrated and told my boss I needed another weed-eater. He then accused me of tampering with it, so I wouldn’t have to work. My face quickly turned red, and I asked him to repeat himself. He then accused me of “banging it on some rocks.” By this point, I was furious, and yelled back that if I wanted to get out of working, I’d simply find a place to hide and take a nap. He said something along the lines of that he’d find me, and I asked him if he wanted to bet on it. I was ready to hit him, but he backed off. Probably not the smartest thing I could have said/done, but it couldn’t be helped.
Normally, I have a decent hold on my emotions, but being wrongly accused of anything erases that. Like I said previously, I was recently blamed for doing something. I asked for the proof that supposedly incriminated me, but the most I could get was that this person assumed it had to be me. I went to get the word of someone who could clear up the matter, and was assured I was in the clear. Unfortunately, this wasn’t enough for the accuser, and they refused to hear it. Now, as this was a person that I thought I could trust, this aggravated me beyond belief. It would have been nice, for this person to for ONCE, have the same blind loyalty that they extend to their other friends, especially when I even as much as question their actions or words. Apparently, it was a one-way street, and I’m relieved not to have to worry about it or that person anymore. I’m also relieved I can get off the soapbox, and stop referring to this person in vague terms. For all I care…: http://www.leftlaneends.net/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/crash-1w.jpg
By the way, this happened a bit ago and kinda sucked:
PokerStars Game #25396586240: Tournament #142277460, $1.00+$0.10 Omaha Hi/Lo Limit – Level I (20/40) – 2009/02/26 23:30:00 ET
Table ‘142277460 18′ 9-max Seat #2 is the button
Seat 2: leiny22 (1500 in chips)
Seat 3: Doox (1500 in chips)
Seat 4: Del Mar 2 (1500 in chips)
Seat 5: finnbogi39 (1500 in chips)
Seat 6: poker6608 (1500 in chips)
Seat 7: kimchiB (1500 in chips)
Seat 8: Wng’n'apryr (1500 in chips)
Seat 9: mymymy (1500 in chips)
Doox: posts small blind 10
Del Mar 2: posts big blind 20
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Doox [Ad Ac Jd 2s]
finnbogi39: calls 20
poker6608: folds
kimchiB: calls 20
Wng’n'apryr: folds
mymymy: folds
leiny22: folds
Doox: calls 10
Del Mar 2: checks
*** FLOP *** [Ah Kh Ks] Whee! Full house!
Doox: checks
Del Mar 2: bets 20
finnbogi39: calls 20
kimchiB: calls 20
Doox: calls 20
*** TURN *** [Ah Kh Ks] [6h] (let’s pretend I have a flush… and hope someone else actually does)
Doox: checks
Del Mar 2: bets 40
finnbogi39: raises 40 to 80
kimchiB: calls 80
Doox: raises 40 to 120
Del Mar 2: raises 40 to 160
Betting is capped
finnbogi39: calls 80
kimchiB: calls 80
Doox: calls 40
*** RIVER *** [Ah Kh Ks 6h] [Kd] (motherhumper….)
Doox: bets 40 (apparently, I refuse to believe I got hit with the only card in the deck that could beat me….)
Del Mar 2: raises 40 to 80
finnbogi39: raises 40 to 120
kimchiB: calls 120
Doox: calls 80 (sigh)
Del Mar 2: raises 40 to 160
Betting is capped
finnbogi39: calls 40
kimchiB: calls 40
Doox: calls 40 (double sigh)
*** SHOW DOWN ***
Del Mar 2: shows [9d Kc 4c 6s] (HI: four of a kind, Kings)
PAPA716 is connected
Doox said, “argh.”
finnbogi39: mucks hand
kimchiB: mucks hand
Doox: shows [Ad Ac Jd 2s] (HI: a full house, Aces full of Kings)
Del Mar 2 collected 1440 from pot
No low hand qualified
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot 1440 | Rake 0
Board [Ah Kh Ks 6h Kd]
Seat 2: leiny22 (button) folded before Flop (didn’t bet)
Seat 3: Doox (small blind) showed [Ad Ac Jd 2s] and lost with HI: a full house, Aces full of Kings
Seat 4: Del Mar 2 (big blind) showed [9d Kc 4c 6s] and won (1440) with HI: four of a kind, Kings
Seat 5: finnbogi39 mucked [Tc As 5d 9s]
Seat 6: poker6608 folded before Flop (didn’t bet)
Seat 7: kimchiB mucked [3c 8c 2d 8s]
Seat 8: Wng’n'apryr folded before Flop (didn’t bet)
Seat 9: mymymy folded before Flop (didn’t bet)
Yup – very first hand of the tournament, and my flopped fullhouse gets beat by quads. Anyhow…
So back to this journal – I got a bit sidetracked. I continued to every now and then make entries about the significant things going on in my life. After my tragic break-up, I wrote this girl a nasty message that got great reviews from my friends. In fact, I was even commissioned by a few friends to help them write THEIR break-up or revenge letters when they were wronged by someone. I guess back then I was decent at putting words together in an attempt to once and for all let people know how others (or myself) felt about them. It was like the movie “Hitch,” only the exact opposite.
I stopped writing for a few years, until my freshman year of college. I won’t go into too much detail, but it involved a break-up…again. I was home from school, just about beside myself and was honestly worried that I was losing it. This journal entry started at 3 am and didn’t end until 4:20. I know this, because I started putting the time at the beginning and end of each entry. I also used to sign it with 2 adjectives that I was feeling at the time, a song lyric that seemed appropriate, and a quote from someone I knew. The signature was “Confused and tired – Sparky” and the lyric was:
Picking up the pieces of my life, with no directions for re-assembly” – From Damaged by Queensryche on “Promised Land.”
Yeah, I wasn’t in the best of moods, but the funny thing was – it helped to write them down. I went on for the next few days to chronicle each and every relationship that I had up to that point, and talk about what was good and what wasn’t. By the end of the weekend, I had made many pages worth of text, and wasn’t looking forward to heading back to school. Evidentally, Parker was going to set me up with some hoochie from Butler but I wouldn’t be able to go out with her due to classes. Unfortunately, I did eventually go out with her and it was a flaming trainwreck of an outing, so it’s irrelevant. My self-esteem was horrible back then, and this didn’t help matters all that much. Other stuff I chronicled during freshman year included my first visit to a strip club, joining a fraternity, meeting up with long-lost friends, and dating the infamous Niki (the first in the evil trilogy.)
Going into other entries would take up way too much time, although I *do* feel like sharing this: http://i157.photobucket.com/albums/t61/dooxy/conspiracy.jpg
I drew that to explain the flow and direction of a fart during a fraternity meeting somehow managed to defy the laws of physics. The president in the entry was located at seat “G.” Anyhow…more stories were written, some of which I won’t bore you with, some of which I’m not brave enough to share. I even write about losing the closest thing to a father figure that I had in life – my grandfather. Why is this relevant? Because as of an hour ago, it’s officially his birthday. Happy Birthday, Papa.
What else? Broke up with whatshername, got back with her, got hit by a train…that’s where I finally stopped writing in it. That was August of 2002. That’s 12 years of my life, arguably the best years, all wrapped up into one little notebook. Since then, I got lazy about writing in it, and figured out how to blog. Obviously.
What else have fits the “Glory Days” theme? Well Whatshername decided to get back in touch with me a few months ago out of the blue. (weirdly enough, I happened to be talking to her while, in the span of 10 minutes, an exiled ice skater AND the 3rd in the Nicki trilogy decided to get a hold of me, through email and Facebook. I thought that was kinda odd, anyhow.) She’s still living out in NJ and we’ve met up twice since she got back in touch. While talking to her again and conjuring up old memories is great and all, her goal is to eventually get me to move out east either with or near her. Sigh.
Now, if she lived near me, this wouldn’t be as much of an issue, but I, in all honesty, am having a hell of a time picturing myself moving out to NJ. Shay, if you ever read this, don’t take offense. It’s not you – it’s me. I’m sure you love your state and the people in it, but I just don’t fit. Everything’s way more expensive (except gas), the people are rude, and the sports fans….ugh. That area is right near a ton of Phillies, Rangers, Devils, Yankees, Flyers, and Eagles fans. I’m a western PA guy, and those teams have always been the enemy. Call me shallow, call me selfish, but I don’t know if I could handle leaving everything and everyone I know, to completely uproot myself into an area that feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. She’s probably the sweetest girl in the world, and if it wasn’t for her job (she’s a teacher and needs to get tenure), she’d easily be able to make that sacrifice for me. This has already caused friction, because in her mind, she feels that the years-long break in the relationship doesn’t matter. To me, it’s like we’re just getting to know each other again. I’m afraid that if I would make a move of that sort, it might not end well, and I’d resent her for it. I feel more comfortable where I am, but do I really have anything to stick around for? I know Anne….Colorado is lovely this time of year 
Whatshername wants me to meet back up with her over Easter break, so I’ll see what happens if I do head out.
Speaking of Facebook earlier, I decided to do some searching. If I know you, I’ve probably googled you or facebook searched you. I can’t help it. I’m a serial googler. I’ve googled myself numerous times, so I cover all the bases. I went on yet another Facebook adventure, where I try to think of someone I used to know, then check out their friend lists to see if I know anyone on there. On this particular trip, I found a guy who I used to go to school with. He was in my fraternity and lives somewhat near me. His profile was open to the public, which is rare, so I decided to poke around. I found a pic of him on his wall, from an album labled “Random ZBT stuff” from a girl’s page. This girl, Tanni, used to be one of my better friends up at school. I can’t remember there ever being any hint of romantic interest between us, though. I used to consider her the female version of me – we got along real well, and even played the same sports. As I was our fraternity’s Intramural Chairman, I got teams together, signed them up, and helped schedule them for sports through the college. Tanni and I were always co-ed partners for any sport involving a net. Tennis, badminton, ping pong…we were a given. We played together pretty well, too. I believe we won a co-ed tennis championship, and I think we took a close 2nd in badminton. Anyways, I found that I was able to search through her entire album and came across a pic of the 2 of us from a past formal:
I look kinda drunk, yet happy. I was kinda touched to see she had a pic of us up, so I decided to “tag” it with my info and send her a quick message. Since then, we talked a bit back and forth. Seems she lives ridiculously close to me, and we’re both amazed that we haven’t run into each other sooner. As soon as I added her as a friend, I got another request from her former sorority sister, who eventually married one of my frat brothers. Now I’m wondering if this is going to mean that a bunch of people I never expected to talk to again are going to want to pop in. Tanni’s cool, though, so I’m glad I hit her up. I also found a pic of my former roommate that is WAY too awesome not to share:
Seriously – how awesome is this picture? My former roommate is the one on the right, btw. I should probably message her, if only to compliment her on this picture. Her face cracks me up to no end…
I guess that’s the end of my yesteryears trip for now. I might add on to this theme with old pics of me at different stages of life, along with amusing anecdotes. I got a great one that I was thinking I had documented, but I can’t find it in my journal. Maybe it was in an earlier blog entry, but it involves me, my friend, bottle rockets, roller skates, roadkill, loose highschool girls, minor vandalism, and temporary unconsciousness. That’s gonna have to wait, though. I’m tired of writing, and I’m approaching the bubble of this poker tournament (35th out of 49 with 45 getting paid.) Maybe I’ll get a good return on that entire dollar entree fee. Whoot.
