The Ones Who Got Away

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I’ve always said that I don’t do regret. For the most part, that’s true. I’m not about regretting the things I’ve done in life, or the choices I’ve made. Sure, hindsight is definitely 20/20, and I can thinkof tons of things that I could’ve done differently, perhaps even better. But the choices I’ve made all bring me to now, and most importantly, the person I am, and that’s something I wouldn’t trade. Besides, none of the choices I’ve made were cataclysmic. I’m still alive and have avoided prison…hell, I’ve never been arrested. I’m doing pretty darn good.

However, as of late, I’ve begun thinking about my exes. Now, I’m a pretty average dude. I, however, have had the opportunity to date some pretty awesome women in my day. Some of them were not so awesome, but some of them were amazing people, and I’m proud to say that many of them are still friends.

So, you may ask, well what happened? Well, a variety of things. I was young. I wasn’t looking for something serious. Not “marriage” serious…hell, not even engagement serious…not even “let’s live in sin” serious. I remember being 25 when my views on relationships began to change, evolve, and I became more comfortable with the idea of being in a committed relationship that could evolve and develop into whatever.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve been single for a while, but I’ve been having thoughts of some of the aforementioned women. Today, my mind slipped back to Candi. Candi was a girl I dated in college.

We had a class together. I couldn’t tell you what class it was, my memory is generally horrible. But I remember from the beginning of the class, she caught my eye.

She had long brown hair, that she always wore in a long pony tail. I can actually still remember the first time I saw her with her hair down, which was the first time we spent he night together. She was thin, average height, with a gorgeous, caramel complexion…that made me think initially that perhaps she had a Hispanic ethnic background. But I thought she was so delicious, and would often find myself stealing glances, or outright staring at her during class. After a while, I started finding ways to talk to her. I suppose it started with hellos and goodbyes. One afternoon I’m pretty sure I asked her if I could walk with her to her next class. That old school progression to a relationship. I do remember our first date. Now, from first talking to her to actually getting her to go out with me, we’re talking months. I was really interested In her, and getting to know her.

We both lived in the dorms. I wanted to come up with something special for our date. So, I cooked her dinner. I can’t recall what made, but I do remember baking brownies for dessert. I also remember taking a table into my room, and putting candles on it, and stealing 2 chairs from the common room. We had our own 5 star restaurant in the dorms.

From there, our friendship bloomed into a relationship. Candi was amazing, Intelligent, thoughtful, funny, playful, beautiful. Even so many years later, I can remember the intimacy being breathtaking. She even had an awesome family.  So, what happened?

Well, I can’t for the life of me remember specifics. I’m going to take a leap and guess it was some variation of me being a dickhead. I did that a lot in my younger years.

And Candi wasn’t the only one…that I was a dickhead to that is. There was Kelly, and Katharina, and Josie, and Sarah, and Carly…the list goes on and on.

I don’t regret it all. Life is as it should be. I hope they all went on to lead wonderful lives, and each one of them left something upon me that helped turn me into the person I am today, and I think this person is pretty good…rarely dickheadish…a pretty decent guy.

But, I think it’s healthy sometimes to look back and think what if…what could have been…where would I be now. I suppose ultimately, it helps me to appreciate where I am, and look forward to what is to come.

A Simple Reminder

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If you are a man, watch the video below immediately.  If you are a woman, wrangle up all the men around you, especially any that co-habitate with you, and make them watch this video immediately.

While women’s restrooms have long been dens of relaxation, fellowship, and camaraderie, the men’s restroom is a tightly run ship of efficiency and teamwork.  If one teammate doesn’t know the rules and his role to play, all hell could break loose.

While you ladies may have time to chit-chat, jib jab, and cackle at last night’s episode of whatever, we men have no time for that tomfoolery; you get in, do your business, and get out.  You certainly don’t  stare me in the eyes and strike up a conversation like the button-down psycho I encountered at work today.  I barely made it out with not only my life, but with civilization in tact. The men’s restroom, affectionately known as “the shitter” wields an unimaginable amount of power, that could topple society as we know it. Consider yourself warned.

Music Is A Time Machine

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A few weeks back, I was listening to the Joe Rogan Podcast… Kevin Smith was the guest. I actually blogged about a portion of that episode previously, you can read that post here.

But, in another segment of their discussion, Joe Rogan and Kevin Smith were talking music. evin Smith mentioned how he currently enjoys a lot of music from his past… that he never was interested I when it was popuplar…bands he never listened to in their heyday.

Joe Rogan inquired as to wh that he is, and Kevin Smith offered his opinion that music functions as a time machine. He went on to explain that he feels thT music takes us back in time, on a subconscious level, and even though it may not be music that you enjoyed back then, it could still hold a close tie to pleasurable events or memories, even if you do’t realize t. For example, you may not have been a Led Zeppelin fan, but maybe Led Zeppelin was playing on the radio when you had your first kiss,etc, etc.

I thnk he’s absolutely right, because as the years pass, I find  myself. Listing to more music from the past, 70’s and 80’s particularly… music would have heard in my house as a child. My love of rock, metal, and classical came later.

In addition, I think music can take you back to a particular time , or place, or make you thnk about a particular person. That’s what happened to me the other day.

I was driving down the street when the song “Hunter” by Bjork came up on my Spotify. If you’re never heard it, it’s an amazing song.

It immediately took my thoughts back to the person who introduced me to Bjork. It was a woman…she was seeina guy worked with.  woman. I couldn’t tell you exactly how or where we met.

A few weeks back, I was listening to the Joe Rogan Podcast… Kevin Smith was the guest. I actually blogged about a portion of that episode previously, you can read that post here.

But, in another segment of their discussion, Joe Rogan and Kevin Smith were talking music. Kevin Smith mentioned how he currently enjoys a lot of music from his past… that he never was interested when it was popular…bands he never listened to in their heyday.

Joe Rogan inquired as to why that he is, and Kevin Smith offered his opinion that music functions as a time machine. He went on to explain that he feels that music takes us back in time, on a subconscious level, and even though it may not be music that you enjoyed back then, it could still hold a close tie to pleasurable events or memories, and also unpleasant, even if you don’t realize it. For example, you may not have been a Led Zeppelin fan, but maybe Led Zeppelin was playing on the radio when you had your first kiss, etc., etc.

I think he’s absolutely right, because as the years pass, I find myself listening to more music from the past, 70’s and 80’s particularly… music I would have heard in my house as a child. My love of rock, metal, and classical came later.

In addition, I think music can take you back to a particular time, or place, or make you think about a particular person. That’s what happened to me the other day.

I was driving down the street when the song “Hunter” by Bjork came up on my Spotify. If you’re never heard it, it’s an amazing song

It immediately took my thoughts back to the person who introduced me to Bjork. It was a woman…she was seeing a guy I worked with. I couldn’t tell you exactly how or where we met.

I can tell you that she was breathtaking. She was Puerto Rican, from New York City. She had beautiful, caramel colored skin. Her hair was curly, and wild. I can’t remember her eye color, which is a bit odd for me since that is usually a trait I notice and remember. She also had one of those bodies that was made for a pencil skirt.

The song immediately brought me back to a day trip we took together. In our conversations, we discovered that we were both musicians. She told me that she sang jazz back in New York, and dabbled a bit also in Germany. She asked me if I’d been to this huge music store about 90 minutes from Bamberg, Germany, which is where we lived at the time. I told her I hadn’t, and she told me she would take me the following weekend.

So there we are, in her little sports car, travelling through the countryside of Bavaria. She turned on her radio, and the tastiest music filled the car. I said ’who is this?”

“You’ve never heard Bjork? She’s my favorite!”

And Bjork has been a favorite of mine ever since. I just remember looking over at this divine creature as she drove, sneaking peeks of her legs, and her beautiful face, listening to her voice, mindlessly chit chatting as the fields went zooming by.

Hearing this song while heading to Jiu Jitsu training immediately took me back to that moment. It was strange, and oh so pleasant, all at the same time.

Music is definitely a time machine
~D

Regret

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“You know, sometimes I wish I did a little more with my life instead of hanging out in front of places selling weed and shit. Like, maybe be an animal doctor. Why not me? I like seals and shit. Or maybe an astronaut. Yeah. Like, be the first motherfucker to see a new galaxy, or find a new alien lifeform… and fuck it. And people’d be like, “There he goes. Homeboy fucked a Martian once.”
~ Jay

Chicago: My Favorite Town

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Chicago is by far my favorite town. One of the things I love about it most is its beauty.

Now, I’ve been lucky enough to see some beautiful places and things thus far in my life. The sun rising over the Mississippi River, the sun setting against the mountains of Afghanistan.

But, the beauty of Chicago is different. It’s not natural. It’s man-made, and constantly manipulated…but so very beautiful nonetheless.

Truth Serum

Courtesy of pinterest.com
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My post today is based on the daily prompt, courtesy of The Daily Post

You’ve come into possession of one vial of truth serum. Who would you give it to (with the person’s consent, of course) — and what questions would you ask?

After reading the prompt, my answer was immediately “Myself’. I would give myself a vial of truth serum…but then I thought, “Well you surely couldn’t ask yourself questions”…but in all honesty, I don’t think I could weed down my choices to one friend whom I’d like to dose up with sodium pentothol. I personally am also a firm believer that there are simply things we don’t want to know. I am however, comfortable in accepting whatever truth that others care to offer. I have a realistic view, I like to think, of who I am…both positive and negative.

But I would shoot myself up. I would have a party. I would call it “The Truth Party”. I would invite friends…a large group of friends. I would cook. I would make spaghetti with a spicy sauce and turkey Italian sausage. I would also make African peanut soup, and vegetarian chili. I’d probably invite my friend Tricia to help me cook. She’s a vegetarian, and a very amazing cook. She’s the one who taught me how to make the second two dishes.

Following dinner, we would all congregate in the living  room. I would thank everyone for coming, and tell them the time has come for the unveiling.

“I am going to proceed to inject myself with Truth Serum. There will be only one valid question this evening: “What do you think of me?”

I think that when we think about “truth serum”, that’s usually what we want to know, “What does this person REALLY think about me.” I also think for most that is a scary proposition, because so few of us are truly honest with those around us. Otherwise, we want to hear embarrassing stories and skeletons popping out of closet.

I wouldn’t give them embarrassing stories. Any of my friends who want them know I will dish them freely, whether it’s my most embarrassing sexual encounter, to unwittingly going on a date with a post-op transsexual. I’m an open book of life experience. What I would offer them though is unbridled honesty, of what I think of you. I read people well, and I think I see my friends for who they are, both good and bad. The proposition of airing all those thoughts…now that’s a bit scary, because, let’s be real…

Courtesy of sixprizes.com

Courtesy of sixprizes.com