Rob's visit. Part one.

(Friday, January 05, 2007)

Wednesday Wednesday

It's amazing how dumb I'm getting.  Like seriously.  My magnificent thoughts have left me.  It's like I've given up the beauty of complexity for something simple.  Good thing in my lighter moments Robert is there to remind me who I used to be.  Good thing I have Steph to write to . . .

I drove to the John Wayne airport at about 9:30 p.m on Wednesday the 27th.  Being the lucky guy that I am, Rob's flight was delayed, and I waited an extra hour for his plane to arrive.  I enjoyed the stares.  I really began to regret wearing my shitty formless clothes.  There were more people in the airport than I thought, and they all looked at me like I was a fucking terrorist.  Probably because everyone knows terrorists can't dress and don't have a sense of style.  Though, it might have just been the 5 minute straighten on my hair that came out looking like an old homeless guy's balls.  Not that I've ever seen that.

After about an hour or so of judging whether or not homeless guys have one or two balls, and talking to Billy on the phone about how hot the Suicide Girls are, Robert's plane finally arrived.  It feels like a click, well, that's the only sane way I can describe it.  The way my mindset transfers over.  I don't know when I became a chameleon, but something feels really good when I'm a hundred percent of me, and not just a small part of it. 

Robert knows everything about me.  He knows everything I've read, how I think, and how I make my decisions.  It's truly like having a brother, adding to the two I already have.  He looked different this time.  We had started growing our hair out at the same time, but he cut his in Berkeley.  I don't blame him, it's a pain in the ass maintaining long hair.  But, he was still the same.  At least in the amount I assumed him to grow as a person over the past four months.

It was weird at first; I hadn't seen him since I moved from Berkeley.  Good thing we settled our differences on that subject long ago. 

I discovered long ago that it's a waste of memory to have a tremendous thought flow--unless I planned on writing about it later--when with a group or even single, normal conformed individuals.  Why?  Because they will never understand the jokes or comments or quick references to films, novels, and experiences.  You might get a small spectrum of responses such as 'wtf?,' 'Random!,' etc. 

So, you could imagine my delight when I could make fun of the guy that looked like Peter Griffin, without feeling like an asshole.  We picked up his bags, pointed out the reasons why Southern California is beautiful, and had one last laugh about Peter as we walked a mile to my car.

What can you do on a Wednesday night anyways?  Apparently nothing, so we went to the Block.  That place is scary after 11, if you're not a gangster.  We bought tickets to see Black Christmas, imagine my surprise when I found out it wasn't a movie with Jamie Fox, Eddie Murphy, Danny Glover, and Beyonce.  I guess they would have called such a film Kwanza, or Dreamgirls.
Anyways, the movie sucked. 

We went to the Denny's on El Camino, ordered water, and realized how much we hate those fuckers, so we left.  Rob had been in Southern California for three hours.  It was going to be a great visit.

Thursday, is a good band, I think.

We woke up early.  Well, I did anyways.  Got dressed, had a Community College t-shirt photo shoot, and began our journey.  It must have been 2 o'clock.

We headed over to sports chalet, or sports authority, or whatever the fuck that sports store in the Tustin Market Place is called now, to buy sports clickers.  You know, like the one in that Axe commercial.  We made a few rules.  The only girls that count as a click are the ones that look for 3 seconds, wink, make weird movements with their lips, or give double takes.  We weren't sure if we should count the whales, or the children of men.  Finally it was only men that didn't count, just because that is awkward and/or homosexual.

Rob needed a new license; he still hadn't gotten his replaced since we were robbed.  Click, Click, Click, that was my sports clicker, apparently we are a rarity at the DMV in little Mexico.  What the fuck do they use these clickers for anyways?  This thing goes up to 9999, I don't even think I see more than a thousand girls in a day.  What do I need 9999 clicks for?

We went over to my friend Adam's house.  We made a couple of subtle jokes about Adam's bright yellow jacket; I don't think he understood any of them.  Rob had a fight with Adam's punching bag.  I took pictures of that, and Rob pretending to be Spiderman.  But really, I'm thinking it was just an excuse to put a shoe mark on his ceiling.  Adam's sister grew like 2 feet.  It was weird seeing her as a little woman. 

We were supposed to meet my parents for dinner, but then Annie called, and I wanted to show Rob how much older she was.  Omg, she is just too adorable!  I had an Annie photo shoot, after convincing her to let me.  She didn't like the pictures, which was lame, because aside from how she always manages to get red eye, she is so photogenic.  By the time we left, we had missed dinner, so we went to Club Glam.

I've never had a wingman with me there.  Naturally I assumed that that would benefit me.  As fate would have it, it didn't.  Nothing seemed to be working for us.  So, we split up.  That son of a bitch found a pretty girl!  I found the female equivalent of Thor, and even she, I think it was a girl, disappeared like the sound of thunder after dancing with me.  I was really disappointed.   To top it off that was the night I got sick and lost my voice.  I'm still sick. 

We made a slew of robot and child molester jokes; I mean there had to be a benefit to my new voice right?  Rob's girl, Lisa, didn't seem to have a sense of humor.  The last thing he told her was 'If you give me your number, I'll give you a kiss.'  God I admire that arrogance.  Hahah, well, at least he got her number.  It's so funny, thinking that we used to be the worlds last true Romantics.  Now we are something else.

I was pissed, but then I thought my voice kind of sounded like that Asian guy from South Park, the one with the pony tale, that always wears the sunglasses, and I smiled inside.

T. G. I. Friday

Friday was here, and we figured there had to be something more enjoyable.  My ego and self-esteem had healed from the previous night.  For some reason I bounce back fast, I guess it's just because of what I have done, and knowing what I'm capable of doing in my prime. 

We woke up around 2, I think.  We had promised Adam we would watch a movie with him.  So we got dressed, listened to music for a few hours, and headed out around 5.  Turns out our old friend Bobby Lesher was visiting on military leave.  (Oh, ya, I'm a bad narrator, on Thursday Adam's mom gave Adam four free movie tickets, that's why this outing was set in stone.  Haha, who keeps four tickets lying around like that?  It was cool though.)

So we went to Bobby's house.  We saw they were playing Mega Man or some shit like that.  I've got a picture up in my main profile, unless I've replaced it by the time you read this.  I was like 'omg, lame!,' but in a text, to Rob.  We convinced them to go to the movie right away.  No way I could handle that shit.

We saw Rocky Balboa at the Irvine Spectrum.  Omfg, what a piece of shit.  I was happy when I saw the old camera techniques and familiar shots, but when they had an overkill of build up, for such a bad ending, it ruined everything I liked about it.  Bobby liked it, thus proving the military brainwashes you. 

It was like 9 or something early like that when it was over, so we ate pizza in the food court.  I saw a small pack of Scene kids.  For awhile I was trying to do a sneaky slide into that whole Scene crowd.  Oh god, I love those girls mmhmm.  Along with the whole Indy/emo crowd.  But seriously fuck that shit.  It's just too much work, and I think they are all like 15.  It's easier to remain clean and male looking. 

I considered cutting the entire back portion of my hair, leaving the top and front long.  But then I realized only their kind would like it.  It's so fucking hard mastering scene game.  You can't be cocky, or overly funny, or simple, yet simple.  It's strange.

They saw me staring, so I looked back at Adam, and made a joke about his yellow jacket.

We went to Blockbuster and rented two games.  I haven't played ps2 in awhile, but I figured I could nerd out.  We got Marvel Ultimate Alliance and Destroy All Humans Two.  Big mistake.

For the next two days we would play those games, wasting time and life.  I don't have a memory card anymore for some reason, so Rob and I tried to play DAH2 straight through, eventually it froze, short hours before completion, and we vowed never to touch another video game.

Sunday Shines

At about 11 a.m DAH2 froze.  Thank God, but seriously now we were fucked, we hadn't looked for anything to do on New Years.  The hours were melting away.  It was 8 o'clock before we knew it.

We headed over to Target again; we really wanted Nikki's number.  This girl we used to work with.  I forgot to ask her for it last time I saw her.  (Oh yeah, the only good thing about Saturday is that I got my present from Rob in the mail.  It was the 'I'd Fcuk me' shirt.)

We hit up Phil, he was having a hotel kickback.  We went over, but we wanted to find something else, so we headed out.  We called Anthony and went to his party.  It was filled to the brim with males at first, but sure enough, if you have it, they will come.  (Females.)  I started hitting some vodka shots without chasers.  Gross!  Rob wasn't using chasers, so I felt like it was a challenge.  Eventually I couldn't taste them anymore so it didn't matter.

Rob tried playing the hand slap game with some girl.  I laughed when I saw the pictures in the morning, amazingly my framing is still better than most sober people.  I danced some, I flirted a lot, and I got a bunch more pictures.  It was amazing.

Much more has happened since then, but I'm bored of writing, and I'm afraid I will never post this if I wait until I'm done.