I've got another one for you all. In the process of me going to school again, I find myself taking freshman college english. The sad thing is that I've read stuff that not even the professors have heard of, or have heard of but never read. Great works like Joyce's Ulysses or The Dubliners, Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow or The Crying of Lot 49. They consider Grisham a great author. Don't get me wrong he does good stuff for a mass-market, non-intellectual society. I'd rather read and write about stuff that makes you think and ponder your own values and existance(damn I hate that word, I always mis-spell it). These same professors are more intrested in the Rodeo Team or our semi-decent basketball team. The English department is amazed that I have a better than average intelligence. But when I write about things that are near and dear to me whenever I do an essay for classes they don't understand that it's easier to write about things that are important to you than things you don't care about. It's a small school with only 2000 students. No we aren't a private school, but we are in a small town with small town mentalities. I'm not a small town person, but have lived in them most of my life (if you don't count the time in OKC, Dallas, Houston, San Diego, Orlando, Albuquerque, or Tulsa). I kinda miss Tulsa, mainly the Empire Bar-they could pour a great pint of Guiness or Murphey's Stout. Don't really miss OKC, especailly after I had $3000 worth of cd's stolen out of my truck. I called the cops and all they had to say was "if you find out anything, let us know." I told them that if I found out who did it, they'd find the bodies in their sorry excuse for a river. Sorry, I'm not a big fan of Oklahoma, most of the people were cool, but the ones that pissed me off made up for the cool ones.
Orlando was intresting, mainly because I spent time at "Navy World." Any of you who have been in the fleet know exactly what I'm talking about. One really cool thing about that mind-fuck was I got to meet a friend of mine--Dave Ray. Other than that it was pretty bad for someone who has been trying to hold onto sanity for most of his life. I try not to remember much about San Diego mainly because that's where a good friend of mine killed himself.
Dallas was pretty cool, always something to do, no matter what the hour of the day. Another big plus is that Queer Channel Radio is not leading the books, that honor goes to Infinity Broadcasting. All of it is mainly due to Russ Martin. This man talks about whatever he wants. He is better than Howard Stern on a bad day. Houston was good, but most of the women I met there were insane or at least borderline nutcases. I think alot of that has to do with the petrochemicals in their water supply.
I guess all of this goes back to my main quest in life--to find someone who "gets" me. I thought I had found her when I thought I got married (see yesterday's post), only to find out I was being used. Then I thought I found another one, but she went nuts on me and pushed me away when I needed someone most. I'm not exactly a "Saint," but when I give myself to someone, it's completely and totally. But since that one fell apart I dabbled in harlotry, mainly man-whoring (yes, I saw Deuce Bigalow). Hell, I made good money, but not good enough to pay all my bills. Most of my "clients" were ex-girlfriends who were hoping to get me back, or former employees of mine that wanted to see if the rumours were true about me. They never understood that the past is staying there, in the past. The sad thing is that the ones that I wanted I could never get the courage up to asking out. I always see myself as the book-worm I was in high school and jr. high. I was scrawny and not very outgoing in those days. Going to school in a small town pretty much ruined your reputation with the opposite sex. Most of them use to see me as the geeky kids with bad hair. If they saw me now, they'd probably shit their pants. Sure I still have bad hair, no wait, I have no hair. I guess my hair never recovered from boot camp, Dave can testify about how bad those hair cuts can be. But these days I'm anything but scrawny or timid. Most people think I'm crazy because I don't fit in their little idea of how I shoudl be.
I walked into a bar a few weeks back and everyone stopped what they were doing when I walked in the door. First thing they thought was that I'd start some problems and that they don't want to mess with me. Then I ran into an old friend and all of a sudden they weren't as afraid of me. When you are six foot tall, shaved head with a vandyke, and weigh 230 pounds, most people steer clear of you. What is wrong with people these days? I'm the one who looks like he'll kick your ass, but if you treat me right and are honest, you have nothing to worry about. Most people are scared of me and typecast me as being a badass just off of how I look. That's one of the reasons why I can't find a job these days, or even a woman, for that matter.
Ok, enough of me ranting for the night, I need to get some sleep and study for class on Tuesday.