Trying to pay attention to the rest of his story about bass fishing but I see them in the background breaking down the buffet line and they are two trays away from the cookies.
After delivering an inspirational piece there’s nothing quite like a conversation from reality:
“You should move to Cali, you look like an Ocean Beach guy.”
“Really? I should?”
“Yeah, it’s a cool beach town.”
“I was born on the beach. Well in a beach town. Well in prison actually. I was born in prison.”
That descended quickly.
I’ve been bashing on United Airlines pretty hard for the last year because they suck as an airline. But all airlines in the US blow d. Spend one flight on any international carrier and you’ll see how hard America is trying to ruin the travel experience. Add to that the fact that airports are inhabited by some of the lowest representations of human existence and you can see why things are often tense.
But United finally did something decent. I wrote them the complaint letter of my life loaded with sarcasm, swearing, and 4 very specific reasons why they should consider killing themselves. I told them they could give me a $300 travel voucher, 25,000 miles, or admit that they don’t care about me as a customer at all. They actually gave me the $300. And they were really apologetic, which doesn’t fucking matter because I know they couldn’t care less but I got the travel voucher. I can go somewhere this week just for the sake of going. I just don’t know where.
Where in the US should I travel to? Is that ending in a preposition? I’m always worried about that. I don’t know grammar and literary things. I’m not one of those writers that loves the opportunity to make obscure author references or talk about infinitive markers like it’s actually cool. FYI, no one cares.
I slept like a champ last night in my own bed listening to rain fall simulations on Songza. I keep dreaming about my ex and it’s really annoying because dreams feel the same as real life for the first 45 minutes of the morning and that tests my resolve way too much for my level of self-control. At this point someone giving free and unsolicited advice would certainly like to tell me that it’s a final test from the universe to see if I’m strong enough to move forward. If I pass the test then Mr. Miyagi will give me the keys to the babe kingdom. On that thought, I don’t mind this type of thinking. I shouldn’t be so harsh towards the consumers of this philosophy. It makes life somewhat story-like and definitely more interesting. It’s just that I prefer to focus on the fact that I am the universe and if doing something for myself can’t be enough then I have no place in the conversation of anything real.
Today is Saturday. First day back from a trip. Always want to take on everything. End up doing almost nothing because of mental paralysis. Eliminating options is the new secret to success for the privileged. Should I go to Mexico? And ride horses? Tear my MCL again and hope to see a mountain lion that talks?
I’m going to become fluent in Spanish. These podcasts are going to pay off. I recorded myself speaking Spanish this morning on my phone and the accent isn’t as awful as I would have thought. I need to commit to my words though. You can almost hear the lack of confidence in the delivery. My tone is, “I hope this accent is right” when it needs to be changed to, “Tell me my accent isn’t fucking money…”
When I tag keywords in the articles I’m always so pleased with how fast I can type my own name. At least 120 wpm.