black pocket pickpocketing.

i haven't had sex since I was 15 years old.

I wrote in this blog quite a bit in High School and it felt like people read it quite a bit as well. "Well, we had a lot more free time back then." More free time than I have now? With no school, no responsibilities and a job that involves me eating animal crackers? So why did I stop writing then? I already know that I write better with an audience, this would seem like the perfect format for that, right?

But rather than spend any more time explaining the why or when or how of the matter, I'll get down to the point: I've begun writing in my blog again. Will the 2008 audience be the old crowd of ACLC do-nothings? A confused stumbling of disoriented youth ultimate players? or pretty much nobody? I'd like to pretend the reader-base is inconsequential but we all know it isn't.

As has been customary in my on-off-on relationship with this blog, I'll begin with a short reintroduction. A quick summary that closes the long gap between this post and that last, and provides context for whomever hasn't had the privilege to be beside me every step of the way.

I was supposed to go to SF State. I had already signed up for classes.
I was supposed to live with Matty and Connor. I had already signed the lease.
I was supposed to be free. I had already broken up with her 10 times.
I was supposed to learn the piano. I had already learned the Circle of Fifths.
I was supposed to find her perfect. I had already swept her off her feet.
I was supposed to walk to San Luis Obispo. I had already made it to Santa Cruz.
I was supposed to let her just walk off the train. I had already told her she was beautiful.

I was supposed to be in Australia for one whole year.
The first day I started thinking I had made a mistake. The fifth day I started crying. The seventh day I started lying. The eleventh day I was still hungover as I walked to the airport. My notebook was filled with scrawled nonsense indecision ("I wish I was home already, I wish I wasn't going home") and my bank account was short almost three-thousand dollars.
I had already taken the biggest step.

How long before I stop looking at them as "learning experiences" and start calling them failures? Is there even such a thing?


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Work starts soon, so we'll call this post 'Part One: The Failures Up to Now'.
Be on the lookout for 'Part Two: What I'm Doing With My Life Now and How I've Managed to Justify It To Myself"