I've been silent lately.

Mainly, It's because I'm so busy.

That and, well... things are going on with me that, frankly, I'm afraid to talk about.

Not Scary stuff, but.. fragile stuff. Like when you're walking through the woods and a bird perches on a branch about a foot away, and you're afraid to tell your friend because you might scare it off.

So yeah, things might be happening soon.. and if they do: It'd be awesome. but still: these things might -not- happen. And I don't wanna jinx it.

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Unrelated:

Multiple girls I know have recently told me that if they weren't dating their boys they'd be interested in me.

I can't count the amount of times I've heard that. It's always meant as a compliment, an ego-boost that usually comes when I'm otherwise doubting my attractiveness. Sorta like: "Hey dude, buck-up! Yer a cutie!" The thing is.. after the fifth or sixth time you hear it.. it becomes less of a complement and more like a pattern. As if no matter what I do, no matter what I try, I'll always be #2.

And that sucks.

It's not like it hurts to hear. It's just lame to think about. I mean, I know I have my good qualities: I'm smart, I'm funny. I'm a charmer. I'm cute. I'm sweet. I'm affectionate and all that romantic stuff. Another thing I am, though, is a big fat fatso. And frankly, not everybody is the kinda person to look past all this weight and see the awesome mofo that is jleveque.

Mind you, I know that there are -plenty- of people who -do- see past the surface. I've dated a lot of them, and.. sorta-dated even more. But that's where this 'complement' does it's damage:

All those folks out there that could love a lug like me.... what if they're all taken?

What if each and every one of them, or at least the ones I'm gonna meet, have already met perfectly good peeps to take my place? People with bigger muscles, better teeth, cooler clothes. Faster. Stronger. Better.. oh, and Skinnier. Perfectly cool people for them to form long-term relationships with, people who just don't happen to have rolls, bumps and stretch marks under their clothes.

"All the good ones are taken." Not a new fear, but not an invalid one either. With all my charms and all my confidence that I'm a good person.. I still don't see myself as sexy. I don't see myself reelin' them in, and I can't see anyone ditching their hottie boyfriends for me. (Not that i'd let them.)

At the risk of overcompensating, I'll say that I -know- that one day I'll find some someone out there who's freaking awesome, and thinks I'm freaking awesome, and we'll run off and make awesome babies that'll kick all your little babies asses. This is going to happen. Eventually. It just hasn't happened -yet-. It's just that I'm 25 years old and frankly, I haven't even come close to that yet.

That, and I'm freaking tired of all this. I wanna hug and touch and dance and drink and kiss the hell out of someone. I want to love so hard I can't remember my own name. And I want it yesterday.


In the mean time, feel free to give me whatever ego-boosts you like. Just try not to phrase them in a way that says "James, you will never ever fuck me." K? Cool.


(Note: I know that at least two folks that do read/have read my journal on a regular basis have slipped me the "If I was single" line. So, to those folks: If this makes things awkward: Then Fuck awkward.)

(Also: Hi.)

GEORGE CARLIN WHAT?

The MSNBC coverage of Tim Russert's death is incredibly difficult to watch. Keith Olbermann can barely look into the camera and even Chris Matthews looks like he was weeping moments before his segment. Everybody just looks so shaken. It's like watching a wake.

This Summit Wildfire has me concerned.

I was planning on going down to Santa Cruz twice this week. Tonight, for a Poetry Slam at UCSC.. and Tomorrow to the Catalyst to root for Craig's Brother at the Battle of the Bands. Things look safe for us for now, but with the wind we've got today, who can say it won't burn West enough to close down 17?


Not much more to say, so here's something tasteless (all things considered):

Anyone reading this know of a good 1 bedroom apartment for rent in the Los Gatos/South Bay area, preferably something available soon? (maybe 2 br apartment with awesome roommate?)

No, I'm not homeless.. just had some major passive-aggressive neighbor drama go down tonight and I'm tired of dealing with it.

Love just tossed me a curveball, something even after all this time I didn't expect.

But frankly, it's not all that surprising.


You know that part at the end of Kill Bill Vol. 1? When Oren yells to The Bride "You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?" And the Bride's responds "You know, for a second there.. Yeah, I kinda did." before starting one of the best fight scenes yet put to film?

Yeah, it's kinda like that.



And it's time to get fighting.

Oh look, It's one of these...
( ...four months later )

It's still March (in my timezone, at least), but I am already set to declare Youtube the official winner of April Fools Day 2008.

If you're going to spend an entire weekend unpacking, installing, and troubleshooting hundreds of pounds worth of server equipment for work.. try to make it the weekend right before your annual performance review.

That said I'm a little behind on my internets, only now just getting caught-up on things. So.. umm.. to my (multiple) friends who apparently had some major stuff happen to them in the past couple days: Hugs.


Less than Three,
~j

Instructions are for an apartment with a window (protected by a metal screen) sitting adjacent to the locked front door.

1. Slip dime in crack where protective window-screen fits into the frame.
2. Slowly pull dime forward to pry screen from frame.
3. When you have created a large enough gap, replace dime with nickel. Continue prying.
4. When you've pried as far as possible with the nickel (ie: nickel has been pulled 90 degrees), attempt to grip edge of window screen with fingertips
5. If you cannot grip the screen at this point, insert credit card between the nickel and the window-frame. Again, pry as far as possible and attempt to grip screen.
6. If you still cannot grip screen, insert dime between nickel and credit card and repeat.
7. Once you can grip the screen, slide it as far out of the frame as possible then pull forward to remove from window.
8. Slide open unlocked window, reach through with arm, and unlock door.
9. Marvel at the fact that none of your neighbors called the cops on you while you did this.

Yes, I locked myself out of my apartment yesterday and, yes, I broke back in all by myself. This officially continues my streak of 'locking myself out of'/'breaking back into' every apartment I've lived in since I moved off-campus in 2002.

In case anyone is put off by the above instructions, thinking I am assisting criminals in some way, I'll also publish the necessary steps for residents to counter this info and secure their homes:

1. Lock your windows.

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Moving on:

I've got a cold.

Not a bad one. Those who know me best know I never get -bad- colds.. I never get so sick that I'm utterly incapacitated.. No. Usually, I just get one symptom at a time for couple days each. Not enough to justify a sick-day, but sure enough to annoy me for a week.

That's what I've got now. It started Thursday with a little cough, worsening severely on Friday. Saturday the cough escalated to the point where I could barely open my mouth without triggering a horrible coughing fit. (That's another theme with my colds: If I do get incapacitated, it'll be on the weekend, when I wouldn't have been working anyway) As Aileen discovered over the phone, I was on the verge of losing my voice pretty bad. Extreme voice-cracking and creaking, followed by a wheeze and more coughing. This continued on through this morning, but it has since died down. (Worth noting, though, that I haven't really talked to anyone since Sunday Mass. We'll see how much better it's gotten tomorrow)

Taking the place of my cough is a slightly runny nose. I hate these the most. Nothing makes you feel toxic like having to sniffle or blow your nose every five seconds. I hope this is just my body reacting to my cough medicine by getting rid of my dead germs some other way, and not a sign of more symptoms to come.

Oh, and now I'm sneezing, apparently.
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As much as my coughing on Friday sucked, it didn't stop me from going out and drinking on the boss' tab again.

( Photographic Evidence )
For the second time in as many weeks, Wayne invited us all down to LGBC for some drinks on him. The main reason for this incredible generosity is to welcome our new associates from the corporate US Headquarters in Miami, recently relocated from beautiful South Beach to the empty office space below us in here in land-locked Los Gatos.

The Miami crew is an interesting lot. Primarily skewed younger than us Rocket folk (Mostly late 20's rather than 30's/40's), they're also pretty international. The Company* is HUGE on the global scale, but frankly not all that big here in the States. Most of the employees here (or, at least the ones willing to move cross-country) were originally shipped over from elsewhere. We've got people from Ireland, England, Spain, Sweden, France, Turkey, Peru.. and that's just the people I know for sure.

The biggest difference, though, is the culture shock from moving out of fast, exciting South Beach Miami and into the quiet, conservative South Bay suburbs. Sure, there's so much beautiful nature around us.. and San Francisco is just an hour away.. but as for Here: There is literally -nothing- to do at night. No clubs. No dancing. Pretty much just three or four bars.

One of the Miami guys asked where he could go to meet girls. I told him all I knew around here was where to find High-school Girls and their rich, single Moms. And that I recommend he try neither.

But see, where these folks -used to- work was literally right on South Beach. Walking distance to all sorts of big city, clubbing party-style excitement. Most of them lived on South Beach, too. Walking to work every day and not even needing to leave for weeks on end. Even the ones that claim not to be big club-goers, are so used to it that, I donno, I think they're a little lost here in Lost Gatos.

That's why every time we go out to LGBC, the Miami crew winds up down the street at the 180 Club. Not a fancy club per-se as much as a bar with loud music and 3/4 of a dance floor. It's the closest thing we've got to a club, though.

*shrug* These last few weeks have taught me how much of a club person I'm not. Turns out I'm more of a "close circle of friends sharing drinks at a crowded bar until we're pissed" kinda guy (that's "close" as in "proximity" not "affection", btw).


Mostly though, I'm just afraid the fancy blacklights in the clubs will reveal food stains on my clothes of which I was not aware.


* = I'm specifically not referring to our corporate owners by name. I don't care if -you- know, It's Google I'm trying to keep in the dark. I don't want this LJ showing up on anyone's search querys, see.
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Other things worth saying: