And You May Ask Yourself, This Is Not My Beautiful Wife...

It's my first day back at work from my vacation.  I've been back in New Orleans for 4 days roughly.

I feel like shit.

In retrospect, going back to Orlando for 4 days may have been a mistake.  I had an amazing time.   It was fantastic and I am as in love with that place as I ever was. Maybe more so.  But also, I felt better out there.  My feet hurt from the hours of walking and I was tired, but I felt so much better. I had energy.  I felt alive and excited.  I just wanted to keep going.  And when it was time to leave, I was incredibly disappointed.

Ever since I've been back, it feels like I've been run over with a truck.  It could be psycho-somatic.  But the reality is that New Orleans isn't the most hospitable environment.  There is literally something in the air.  The humidity is daunting (though to be fair, the last few days haven't been all that humid).  It's rough.  I would fair better in almost any other part of the country.  This isn't an epiphany.  I know this.  But it's been so long since I've sat and thought about it after a long trip, that I had forgotten how rough it is on me.

The fact is that New Orleans does not agree with me.

I'm in an odd position in my life.  I don't really hate my life.  I actually mostly like it.  My jobs are fine.  I like my friends. I'm not stuck at home watching tv every night.  Aside from the constant worry of my finances, things are going well.

But man... this place. I need to get out of here.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

A few years back, I started blogs.  Three of them.

http://rebelcomix.com was intended to be the website for the comic shop I wanted to start.  I thought Rebel Comics was a good name for a store.  Unfortunately, the market is so screwed up that I no longer believe comics are a sane business venture. So the site has become just another blog with no end goal.

http://exdcp.com was where I intended to post my stories from Disney as well as my thoughts in general on the subject.  Unfortunately I never kept up with it and finally just let the site die last year.

http://URNasshole.com ...I bought this domain simply because it's an awesome name. I have ideas for things to do with it, but so far haven't done anything with it.  I've been considering letting this one die as well.

Now all these blogs have existed due to a friend lending me a hand.  Actually, that's putting it lightly.  Baker let me put my blogs on his servers and there they've sat for quite a while now.  I've never given him more than a "thank you", which says quite a bit about his generosity. Come to think of it; that says some very unflattering things about me as well.

Well now things have changed.  Due to rising costs, he needs to charge me for being on his servers.  DON'T MISUNDERSTAND.  I'm not complaining about having to pay.  Certainly, I owe him that.  The fact is, had I the money to do so, I would have started paying him a long time ago.  Sadly, it doesn't look like any of the sites will ever turn a profit.

I still post on Rebelcomix.com.  However, most of my writing these days goes to BSIcomics.com, where I'm an unofficial employee. Rebelcomix has become the place I say things that others might regard as controversial.  I'm not the most motivated person, so juggling multiple balls isn't going very well.  I'm going to pay him for the rest of the year.  But after that, I'm wondering if I should just let the sites all die.  I have this blogspot site to discuss all my non-comic opinions. I suppose this could be all encompassing. Part of the reason I haven't done that is because I discuss political opinions here and I wanted to keep that far away from my comic posts unless it's directly related to comics.

I don't know what I'm going to do.  Thoughts?

Traditions 2011

I have a tradition that I've been doing for about 10 years.

At the end of every year I reflect on the past year; all the things I've accomplished and failed.  Then I look at what I want to improve and focus on for the next year.  Occasionally someone will point out that this is a New Year's Resolution.  Well, at the risk of arguing semantics, it isn't.  It's nothing structured like "eat less and go to the gym more".   It's less about creating goals than it is focusing on the future.  Shit, maybe it is just semantics.  Ignore all that.

Originally I would embark on this tradition with a friend.  I would go with whoever was interested to the lakefront with some kind of drink and we would discuss the past and the future. It quickly became difficult to find someone to go with me, so I took it online.  Blogging the tradition made it easier to reflect on the past, because it allowed me to see exactly what I was supposed to be focusing on over the year and if I actually did it. Unfortunately, I think the 2010 blog is on a defunct website and therefor gone.

So anyway, 2011...

Man, this was a strange year for me. (Yes, I know it's technically 2012. Let's pretend I'm more timely.)

It started off very well. I got a new car.  I booked a cruise.  Got a second job which allowed me more financial freedom.   Of course I lost that job over a very silly reason.  I've been floundering financially ever since and the replacement job was a disaster which I had to quit.  I'd taken out a loan to buy a new camera and ended up both without the camera and worse off financially.

I went back to Disney for 3 days in February.  This was a big deal for me. I spend a lot of days listening to Sorcerer Radio or Mouseworld Radio; it gets me through the day. I hadn't been in Orlando since I left in early 2009.  I've been longing for it since.  Florida is the only place I've ever been really happy.  I made a lot of mistakes in 2009, but the decision to move there is not among them.  I just went about it wrong.

I sort of work for BSI Comics now, at least honorarily. I suspect Jason only gave the job because he took pity on me.  Still, I feel honored. I love that place and I feel obliged to do anything I can to help it succeed. It's also nice to be able to put it on my resume.

I've also taken positive steps forward on my photography.  Steps, not leaps. I'm only now starting to understand how much work I have ahead of me.  The science of it takes a lot of work.  I've always been a poor student when it comes to math and science.  The art is the part that I love.  Photography is fun for me.  I get excited thinking about all the shots I'm going to take at a party or event.  And when I see something that would make an amazing photograph, I feel obliged to stop everything so I can get it.

I didn't write much this year.  My websites have had constant issues. Oftentimes they've been down.  I finally let EXDCP expire. I wasn't posting on it.  I often question my ability and desire as a writer.  I love being a writer, but I just don't have the drive to be a great one.

2011 was a great year socially.  I have a lot of really great friends.  In fact, I don't know that I've ever had a time in my life when I was blessed with so many good friends.  Maybe the College Program, but that was a very short time.  There was no girlfriend in all this, but that's okay. In fact, that's great.  I don't really want a girl right now.  Sure, there are times when a lady would be convenient, but I don't want a relationship. I just want to have fun and live my life.  There's time for love later.

For 2012...

I need to think more about the future and not the moment.

I know some of what I want.  Figuring out how to get there is the big question.   How do I become a better photographer?  How do I fix my finances? How do I move to Orlando?

I need to work harder on the math when it comes to the photography.  And I'm going to have to shoot more. I also need to get a copy of photoshop.

I need to decide if I need a new primary job.  I like it here, but it's not getting me anywhere. And it reinforces the need for a second job.

Living in Orlando is still a ways off.  But this is my 10 year anniversary for my College Program. I am working on a Reunion, but it isn't going very well.  Nevertheless I will be there this year and it's going to be great. And it's time I worked on the book again.  10 years is long enough. I need to finish it.

I should probably work on being a better person though.  I've been thinking a lot about who I've been and how I've been.  Not much of it is flattering.   I'm not sure this is the legacy I want to leave behind.

So I guess that's it.  Here's to 2012. May it be the best year yet.

Am I Naked? Because I Think I'm Having a Nightmare.

So I started a new job.  Or third job.  I sort of work at a local comics shop, helping with promotions and working on the website, handling content.  That doesn't pay though. It's just a resume enhancer (plus occasionally getting to read things for free).

I lost my job delivering in September and that threw everything out of whack.  Since then I'd been living off of money that I'd borrowed months before.

I was pretty much down to the wire when I got a job. I'm doing delivery for a restaurant.  One of the owners was kind enough to speak to me for a few minutes when I walked in the door.  A week later the GM called to tell me I was hired.  Bare in mind there was no interview.  The guy talked to me informally, but I didn't have the time or forethought to ask basic questions which I now know I should have.

The thing is, I'm super neurotic. New jobs tend to highlight this aspect.  I get into a blind panic.  "What am I doing?  I can't wash dishes?  What if I fuck up??  What if I accidentally set the kitchen on fire??"  You get the idea.  Mostly this is retarded.  But sometimes you just know?  You know what I mean?  Sometimes you know something is not right, that it won't work out.  Sometimes YOU JUST KNOW.

I'd had this feeling of dread all week.  It started with the day I went in for "orientation".  I couldn't help but wonder what you need to orient a driver to.  I spent half an hour trying to learn their computer system, which wasn't even set up properly. The rest I spent rolling to-go forks into napkins.

This did not help the dread.

It got progressively worse as I waited on my first shift Friday.

I won't go into all the details, because it would take too long. But make no mistake, there is a long list of signs from the Universe not included here that scream GET. OUT.

I was being trained by the host. He's the poor guy that gets stuck making deliveries when they dont have a driver... which is ALL THE TIME.  See they only want me on Friday and Saturday.  Those are the only days when they have enough deliveries to support a driver.  Why?  Well, I asked someone if I was the only driver. His response was "Oh yeah. You might not even have any deliveries."  Umm. Excuse me? "Well you might have 2... or 4... or even 8."  Interesting fact: if you deliver for a living, 10-15 orders is a decent night. Any less than 10, especially on a weekend, is a SHIT night.

I quickly got the impression that these people were inadvertently telling me things I was not supposed to know this early in the game.  This restaurant has not existed more than a year at this location (the main branch still exists downtown) but apparently they've gone through drivers before.  That's "drivers", plural.  They can't keep a driver because they aren't set up as a delivery business. This is a restaurant.  They don't really know how to run deliveries as a formal business.  In my first 3 to 5 hours, I ran down a list of things that need to be done differently if they want to have a thriving delivery business.  Were I hired to do so, which I am not, I could advise them to that end.

Now all this sounds like typical "this isn't the job for me" shit, right? Hardly a "nightmare" as I described it. But that is where you would be wrong, my friends.

I had 5 deliveries that night.  It was about the time I was waiting on my first one that I was following my trainer to the kitchen. As we walked, my peripheral vision spotted something that made my brain say "Hey, pay attention asshole. Something massive is about to fuck you in the ass."  YOu ever wake up one day and realize you're a fucking loser who delivers pizza for one of the popular kids you went to high school with?  YEAH. THAT.

Let's call her Ginger.

GInger was the Queen Bee in my class.  And by "Bee", I mean "Bitch".  A lot of people disliked her.  To be fair, no one liked anyone in my high school. It was like if Rwanda was filled with assholes who drove Camaros and fought with humiliation bombs. And instead of burning children, got really drunk.  I'm not good at analogies.

ANyway, I never had a problem with Ginger.  She went her way, I went mine.  Never the 'tween shall meet.  UNtil Senior year when we had a class together and I developed a... crush isn't the word.  I developed a desire to be inside her.  Too subtle?  I wanted her to be on top of me imitating Charo yelling "Coochie Coochie!"  ... let's just move on, shall we.  This infatuation never went anywhere. Had I been a normal teenager, we'd have gone to separate colleges and moved on with our lives.  This did not happen. See I used to be an artist of some sort.  Senior year I took pictures of various classmates and drew illustrations of them.  She was one.

Now cut to 15 years later.  Life hasn't turned out the way I thought it would. I mean, I didn't get run over by a bus. I'm no longer a virgin... so that's good.  I never really felt like a loser when I delivered pizza. I mean, I knew it was a shitty job, but I made money and it was fun. And then it wasn't fun, but I still made money.  But here I am pumping gas for one of the rich kids from High School.  I can't tell you the kind of blind panic that hit me when I realized this.  It was like being struck down by Zeus' lightning bolt or face-fucked by Satan's cock.  I was half considering setting myself on fire and running out of the building screaming "I HAVE MONKEY A.I.D.S! RUN!" just to escape.

It's not even like I hate this girl. It's not about HER. I just can't take the humiliation of having such a menial job in her employment.  She left before we were forced to speak, thankfully.  But I'm sure she knew who I was. My name is far too unusual for someone who knew me for 5 years to forget.  She had to recognize it. UGH.

Oh, and to top it all off, I think one of the dudes hit on me. Actually, that was a highlight of the night. I mean, I'm not interested, but it's flattering. But with my luck it couldn't be a vaginal american.

So I don't know what to do. I need a job.  But I need to make money at that job.  And I don't want to feel like a loser, even if I am one.  What sucks is, I actually liked the people I met. Under more profitable circumstances, they would be a fun group to work with.

...I don't know.

Even Magic Needs Help

I was reading the Magic Blogorail today.  4 Bloggers each made a list of things they'd love to see updated at Walt Disney World.  I've been really sentimental about Disney lately and I don't know why.  Maybe it's because I've only been there once in the last 2 years, and then only for 3 days.  Or maybe it's because I want so badly to move on from this life and that was where I was happiest. Anyway, I thought I would play along.

(Some of these are the same attractions the blog posters mentioned.)

Magic Kingdom:  Tomorrowland Speedway needs to be fixed.  I've ridden it a few times. It's not just that it's boring (it kind of is).  The ride isn't even all that well done.  The actual ride should be smooth instead of bumping along the track to simulate driving (which it does not).  Call VW and maybe create something based on Herbie The Love Bug.

I'd also like to see a Muppet presence.  Maybe you could have Electric Mayhem playing Muppet songs. Or something involving the Muppet Babies.

EPCOT:   I think the Land &; the Seas both need work.  Soarin and Turtle Talk with Crush are both amazing, but a lot of the other attractions feel like they're lost in time. Keep the educational themes, but spruce them up. Also--- Captain EO is terrible.  TERRIBLE.  As much as I love Honey I Shrunk the Audience, I understand that most kids don't know that movie anymore.  But did they have to put this up? Give Michael Jackson's music a pavilion somewhere, but please please please replace Captain EO.

Hollywood Studios:  I think I heard they were ending the Backlot Tour.  It's been a joke for years, so that's good.  That frees up a lot of space.  They could use it to give Narnia a proper attraction.  Who wouldn't want to walk through a wardrobe into a magical Winter kingdom?  Do it justice, unlike the previous attraction.

They're finally taking down Sounds Dangerous.  I'd really like to see something The Incredibles here.  This is one of Pixar's best movies and it's been absent in attraction form this entire time.  And even though I know many would regard it as a Potter rip-off  (and it isn't an unfair comparison), Disney could put in a Percy Jackson ride/ attraction. They publish the books.

Animal Kingdom:  I kind of wish they would do a new version of Tapestry of Dreams here.

What I would most like to see is The Indiana Jones Adventure.  I understand that Disney wants Disneyland to have certain exclusive attractions, but IJA is one of the best things Disney has ever done. It sucks that you have to go to California to see it, because WDW will always win out on my Disney vacations.  I'm too poor to do both.

I'm sure there's more if I think about it, but I wanted to keep the list simple.

If I Could Grow Wings

Last night I was talking with a friend about the innate desires that drive us.

For him it was a desire to be competent in all endeavors and a need for freedom.  That is to say, a life that isn't scheduled.

I thought about it for a moment.  I'd never really tried to figure out what desire drives me.  And I suppose it's freedom too, in a way.  I hate sitting still in one place.  It makes me feel trapped.  I can't stand just sitting at home.  I always want to be out and elsewhere.  When I think about the happiest times in my life, they're all vacations.  They're me out in the world.

I am a nomad by nature.

I just want to travel all the time.  Cars, motorcycles, trains and planes.  I want to see the world in all it's shapes and forms.  I want to fly.

You meet these people whose job it is to travel cross-country all the time and they claim to hate it.  I could see that if I had a wife or children. I don't.  I'd love a job like that.

I'm not sure I'll ever be happy tied to one place.

short story: Take Me Down

I decided on a Tuesday morning.  I was so excited I ran all the way to school to tell him.  But for some reason, when I got there, I couldn't tell him.  This wasn't something you just blurt out.  This was important.  It had to be introduced with grace.  At the right time. In the right place.

So I told him at lunch in the cafeteria.  Between bites of my cherry pop tart, as he drew smiley faces in his mashed potatoes, I told Brian his destiny.  "I've decided to seduce you."  He managed to look up from his mashed potatoes after that. "wh--- huhhh--- what?"  No matter how it seems, Brian wasn't stupid.  Far from it. He was just... a boy.  And boys are just slow on the uptake when it comes to sex.  Fact of life, I suppose. 

But in every other way, he was just... rad.  Stupendous.  Perpendicular.  (It makes sense because I say so; sue me.)  He liked Tori Amos and Indiana Jones.   If you asked him whether he likes chocolate or vanilla he would say "Rocky road."  And most importantly, he was the only one who would jump off the big tree in the creek with me.  How can you not adore the boy who jumps with you?  And the best part was, he was still a hidden jem.  No one else looked beyond the skinny boy with the thatch of brown tangled hair and chest freckles.  No one but me.  I looked into those baby blues all the time.  Brian had kind eyes.  He was the kind of boy that other girls ignore until they're old and worn out and ready to settle down.  And then they spend the rest of their hag years bitching about how "all the good ones are either gay or taken".  Because they just assumed that boys like Brian would remain boys and wait for them.  Except they don't they grow into men.  And guess what bitches? You ain't the only game in town with a push-up bra and a pair of legs.  

I hate girls like that, and even then I was determined not to be one.  I was alway mature for my age, you know? Daddy always said I was "too big fer my britches."  He's old. He says things like that.  So, anyway... I basically told the boy that I own him.  Not that I needed to tell him that.

Do I have any choice in the matter?
Hmmmmm... no.  No I'm going to seduce you.
I see.  Why exactly?
Because I don't want one of these skeezy girls taking your virginity from you.  You need a girl with talent and experience to guide you into manhood.
Layla... you're a virgin too.
...  I meant EMOTIONAL experience.  Like... maturity, you know.

God, I was full of shit as a kid.  I was too proud to admit that I wanted HIM to make ME a woman.  I mean, I wasn't in love with Brian, buuuuuttt... I knew sex would be an issue soon.  I'd heard all these horror stories from my older sister and her friends about their first times.  I really didn't want to lose my virginity while crying in the back of a Volkswagon.  Brian was my best friend.  I knew he would be gentle and loving.  And somehow I knew it was important that we experience this together.   All these years later, I can honestly say I was right. And I have no regrets about that.

Sooooo... how are you planning to seduce me.
Oh, that's easy.  Like this:  come to my house after 11 and I'll fuck you.
That... that's it?  That's how you seduce me?
Is your dick hard?
...
See? You're seduced.  You're welcome.

Eleven o'clock on the dot, there was a knock at my window.   I opened it so he could come through.  Unfortunately, as nervous as he was, he tripped on the window sill and fell to the ground with a loud thud.  It's a miracle my Dad didn't burst through the door and kill him.  But I had my music on pretty loud.  I put on my Cranberries CD, both to muffle the sounds of our awkward humping, and to set the mood.  No Need to Argue was depressing, but mellow.  We were both a twitching bundle of nerves ready to snap at the slightest thing. Mellow was goooooood.

I... uhhh... I stole a condom from my Dad.  Should.... should I put it on?
Umm.... no.  Not yet. I got my sister to buy us some peppermint schnapps.  Wanna drink?
Uhhh... yeah.  Sounds like a plan.

We laid back on my bed like two kids having a sleepover, not even touching.  We drank and passed back and forth until the bottle was nearly empty.  And then the strangest thing happened.  We stopped thinking.  He looked at me with those blues and I melted.  I just knew he was going to kiss me, and I wanted it more than I had ever wanted anything before.  Boys don't ever seem to know how important the kiss is to a girl... well... this one did.  I still have dreams about that kiss.  Maybe it was the schnapps.  Maybe it was his technique.  Or maybe it was just the feeling of being with the boy you're meant to be with. Whatever it was, he was an amazing kisser.

My eyes were still shut tight as I melted into him, when he broke the kiss and started to undress me.  Nothing was like I expected.  He didn't try to rip anything off or fumble with my bra; he took his time.  And as each article of clothing fell to my floor, he kissed me all over.  On my neck... my breasts... my belly button... my legs... and eventually my pussy.  When he was done giving me the tonguing of a lifetime, Brian looked up at me quizzically.  I nodded nervously, and he smiled. 

Brian knelt beside me and started taking his own clothes off.  It freaked me out a little when he removed his pants, and with good reason as it turned out.  Brian may not have had a whole lot of upper body strength back then, but as it turned out, all his muscle mass was in his third arm.  Woof. It was pretty stupid, but I didn't make him wear the condom.  I didn't care.  Those moments were magic.   Sure, at first, when he pushed in and broke my cherry it hurt.  And it was awkward.  His stroke wasn't nearly as nice as his tongue... but... there was something about being there with this boy inside me.  Yeah, magic.  That's what it was.  Because for all his inexperience, that was among the best sex I've ever had.  I still get tingles thinking about his big dick thrusting inside of me.  I cried as I held onto him for hear life, and he kissed my tears away.   I'll never forget, just as I started to cum, he said "I'm so glad it's you, Layla.  It's always been you."  

When it was over, I didn't want to risk cuddling and getting caught, so I sort of kicked him out.  I did, however keep his underwear as a trophy.

The next day I told Brian it was a one time thing.  That I loved him too much to become involved with him.  And suddenly all the light in those baby blues went out.   I thought for a moment that I had broken him, and I wanted to cry.   But he didn't get mad.  He was just hurt.  "That's bullshit.  You know it is."   And then he left; his words still haunting the air.

By shear luck, we managed to remain friends.  We stayed that way through the rest of High School.  Afterwards, I went to Vasser.  Brian... dear sweet Brian went to West Point to prove something.  Or so he told me.  "You may feel the need to prove yourself to everyone else... even you.  But you never have to prove anything to me.  I know how great you are."  He graduated top of his class.  We'd lost touch in college, but I was damn sure there for his Graduation.  And the after party.  And the drinking.   And let's just say... things happened.  Only this time he had learned tricks I hadn't even heard of.  And afterward, I didn't kick him out of bed.  We spooned as best we could on his tiny bed.  Our hot, perspiring skin sticking to each other all night long.  He kissed my neck and fondled me gently as I drifted off to the most comfortable sleep I'd ever had.  I've never felt so safe as in his arms.

But it wasn't going to last.  I tried to have "the talk" with him the next day over the breakfast he cooked for me.  He put his hand over my mouth before I could say it.  "Shhh.  I know.  I've always known."   We made love one more time after breakfast.  And then I left.

I lost track of Brian after that.  His Mom kept me up to date on the major beats.  He became a Flyboy.  F-16s.   Not long after the night we'd shared, he met his fiance`.  I even scored an invitation.   Never made it though.  Neither did he.   Brian was shot down over Afghanistan in 2003.  I barely held it together at the funeral.  Some military guy gave his Mom and the girl who would have been his widow a posthumous Purple Heart. He said Brian was a hero. It didn't make it any easier.

Sometimes I wonder if it's all a dream.  Like maybe this is all in my mind and Brian never really existed.   That would make it so much easier.  Then I could just wake up from this pain.  The pain of being truly, finally separated from him.  The pain of not knowing.

It's funny. Only now do I realize that I ended up just like those girls I'd despised.  My path was different than theirs.  I held Brian at arms length out of fear of growing up and facing the future.  But the truth is, I always thought he would wait for me.  It seems so silly now.  I never got to tell him how much I love him.