I love that there is NFL on saturdays later in the season, after college regular season ball is over. And I love that on sunday I will wake up to a Chargers game. That is beautiful.

ugh.

I know there are tons of people going through the exact the same thing I am. I know there are billions of people who live life hungry. I know I shouldn't complain. Will that stop me? No.

Here's why I think my case is slightly different than most of my similarly-aged fellows. I have had sero chances. Other guys my age have had several chances; some have had several hundred chances. I have had zero honest-to-goodness chances. I'm not saying that I deserve a chance anymore than anyone else. I'm also not saying that I will use my chance with a girl any better than any other guy. But I try as hard as I possibly can and every other guy I know has had several more chances than I have. And that part, that very last part, I don't care if you agree/disagree with what I'm saying, that last part kills me.

This is my short little message to any guy who has had his chance and somehow blown it in a big way: FUCK YOU. Fuck every single one of you guys who have somehow gotten some beautiful/smart/fuckingawesome girl to like you and blown it out of stupidity or horniness. Fuck every guy who had a great girl within reach and then kissed some bitch or went for the easy way out or went for the other girl just to see if you could get two. You disgust me. I disgust myself.

I need a friend.

I'm supposed to have an advantage. I'm supposed to be one of the 'good guys' that supposedly all the 'good girls' are looking for so desperately. There are supposed to be so many of these girls looking for so few of the guys like me. Every decent guy I know has some sort of something going on, and the undecent ones have something too. So aren't I supposed to have something too. How can this be? How can I not? I used to think it was bad luck, but that is clearly not the case. I used to think I was just a pussy and never approached anyone, but that is also untrue.

The worst (melodrama in 3,2,1) part is that time does matter. You know all those guys who are absolute fucksorjackassesordruggies that have some glimmer of potential? Well those guys are just going through some sort of phase. Eventually they'll wake up from their little drug-induced nap and want a real girlfriend. And that time is coming soon, very soon, like next year soon. And that's great for all of my friends because I'm sure they'll find someone then. But for me it will be disasterous. I clearly have nothing now. The main thing I have going for me is my statistical advantage. But when that disappears in lets say 8 months I'll have nothing. Why would women who didn't want me when I was 19 want me when I'm in my early-twenties??? They wouldn't. Who cares whey girls have rejected me to this point. It's practically immaterial. The point is that I'm about to lose my advantage, and after it's gone I'll have NO chance. I need something now, because my chances will exponentially drop pretty soon.


NOTE: It's absurdly presumptuous and arrogant of me to think I'm in this desirable strata of 19-20 year old guys. I just want you to know I realize my arrogance, but if that assumption is in fact false than there truly is no hope.

Congrats to all of you who finished up with school today! I hope to see you soon.

Excuse me while I have a melodramatic moment.

I REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLY loved the idea that an attractive young woman liked me as more than a friend. I love the idea that this lovely young woman could somehow think that I'm a decent enough young man for her to date/cavort with/participate with in various forms of merryment. I love that I have several lovely friends who are girls, but there are a variety of things (some dubious, most not dubious) that they can't do for me. I need to know I am capable of more than friendship. And I need to know there are woman who see me as more than a friend.

I'm reaching new heights (or lows???) of insanity, which is really saying something...

I let that claim float around my mind while listening to several songs. I now realize it's probably untrue. It's been 4 hours since takeoff and the ride thus far has been relatively decent. This is my first time doing anything like this, and I think I've handled it decently. I am incredibly aware of how far deeply my heart can be dented, but I've started to let that go. I didn't do everything perfectly, but who cares? Do I really want someone who needs me to call at a specific point in time??? FUCK NO BITCH!! She should be pleased that I called, and if she's not than who the fuck cares because I'm LIBERAL TO THE CORE!!!!! Plenty of democratic girls too.




P.S. Despite my harsh words I would still like her to call.

I slept for 12 hours last night. I know that's only average for some people, but that's a whole lot for me. I was disappointed at first because I thought I wasted time. Now I realize that sleeping that long is simply a beautiful experience that is to be enjoyed as long as possible. Maybe I grew!!! Now I have nothing to do. Nothing to fret over. Nothing to read/write/ponder. Well there is definitely one thing to fret over, but it's not something I need to sit down for. I wish I could go to utc for christmas stuff, but I can't. If I'm seen there it will seem like I intentially went down there to bump into her. Dammit. Somebody call me so I'll stop thinking.

lalalala
Well, I'm done. I apologize to y'all who aren't done, but that's just the way it goes. Good luck; I'm sure you'll do well.

Now I get to sigh and eat something. It's fantastic.

So now it's a question of when to call. There are several other questions, but they are all answered when 'when' is decided. You know it doesn't really matter because I feel like I'm playing with house money. I'm sooooo where I don't belong that if I screw it up somehow it won't even matter. I don't know how many rungs I'm out of my ladder zone, but I'm sure it's a lot. Maybe not Charles and Diana style, but still a lot. I think my 'outofleagueness' is comparable to some of contemporaries that I think you can guess.

I am going to sleep forever. Call me anytime if you would like to do something.

Just one day to go.

I would appreciate it if you disregarded the last sequence of posts. I don't want to delete them, because I don't like the idea of having to delete something. But disregard them.

14 hrs until my first test. 20 hours until freedom, quasi-freedom at least.

So I have this certain social interaction. It happened about about 30 minutes ago. This, unlike the previous posts, is a true story.

So we're walking to the opposite side of campus per usual. This is not like walking to the other side of a university's campus. This is a quick stroll, three minutes at most. As our walk wears on I can feel myself getting hotter. I mean my temperature actually raised; it was similar to what happens when I lose a big poker hand. So just as we get ready to go our separate paths I blurt it out. Except I didn't blurt out what I wanted to. The words that actually left my mouth were a pussy version of what I actually wanted to ask. And by this point my internal temperature is dangerously high.....

Fortunately enough she said 'yeah sure' to my question. And at first it was in such a lovely way. So NON-platonic. Ah so beautiful. But as we continued talking after the original question and answer the theme/mood of the conversation became more platonic and non-committal. And it ended on a VERY platonic (sorta mean) note. So what am I supposed to do now????

DUDE. It could have gone better. It could have gone A LOT worse.

Who actually lives in lancaster???

Well I'm guessing tomorrow will be a mircocosm of the past or present. No, that's total crap. Tomorrow is tomorrow which is the day after today and the day before tuesday. Tomorrow is December the thirteenth in the year twenty-thousand and four. This is another one of those times where there are a million things I should be doing, but, no, I sitting in her typing for the sake of typing.

Can you imagine what would happen if certain people read this? I don't mean people I, or even, you know. I mean what if some girl that kinda liked me but didn't really know me read this? It would be the end. No doubt about it. I don't read prior posts; fuck I don't even proof read them. But I'm sure it would be bad. All I spout on here is crap about how much life sucks and women suck and relationships suck and the padres suck. And when I'm not hitting any of those blog g-spots I'm usually saying something insane. Not the fun kind of insane either. Not the nice, endearing type of insane. No the grow-up-to-be-the-unibomber insane.

Lets roll out a hypothetical instead of doing western civ...

So there is this girl. Nice and attractive and all the qualities I could hope for. And, luckily for the sake of this thought exercise, she thinks the same things about me. So, perhaps, there is a potential for a relationship (I'm pretty sure this is NEVER EVER going to happen given what a jackass I am). Anyway, so she likes me and I like her. Nice. Let's say I actually grow some confidence and ASK THIS GIRL OUT... (let me take this oppurtunity to reiterate how much of a pussy I am and how ridculously hypothetical this is)...

So, again NOT A TRUE STORY, she says yes. Well, mission accomplished!!!!>>>>....????

You see I forgot to put in there that I reveal nothing about myself when I first meet this girl. I may seem like I'm giving away many details, but I only give away glimpses of details. And the details that I do give are very inconsequential. It's usually stuff that makes me look good without actually having to look good (e.g. i surf, siblings, fun little anecdotes, hey i like Franz Ferdinand too)...So back to the not at all true story...

Well this girl that likes me and has said yes to me doesnt know who the real Matt is. This is absolutely the plan. In my decades of platonic experience I have realized that less information given to a potential is ALWAYS better, and FALSE information is ALWAYS best. You see if a guy gives a little information (or wrong information that can be corrected later) he allows her very powerful imagination to do that beautiful thing it does. The female imagination (assuming he's not ugly) will help guys out 90% of the time. You see girls like guys for no real reason, perhaps there's some attraction or some common ground, but for the most part the attraction is utterly causeless. Well girls will take the little info they have about the guy and create one hell of a human being. This imaginary guy will be so far beyond what I/you/anyone you know could ever be. But now he exists. To the girl this imaginary guy is entirely real. We'll call him MATT2.o. So back to the never ending story...

So this girl is planning on going out with MATT2.0 who is nothing like myself. Well, perhaps I'll be able to span the gap between MATT2.0 and myself with some clever jackass moves, but something happens. She stumbles onto this blog. She reads a few things. She reads a few more. She reads some passage that is so blatantly evil and insane that she realizes that I, being the author of aforementioned evilness and insanity, is also fucking EVIL AND INSANE...

Well of course the relationship is over for eternity. MATT2.0 will continue to float around the universe as what NO ONE can ever be. And I will be sitting here typing.

You know I typed that so I should really understand what I just typed, but I don't. I hope you don't either. I bet MATT2.0 does, that bastard.

I like MATT2.0. He'll be back for later posts. Hopefully AFTER finals.