5 days

Just 5 days until I move back to Ames. I'll have my own apartment--the last spot in the building. I'm looking forward to seeing all of my friends again. My lease actually starts on the Monday, but that is a bad day for my dad, so I won't be physically moving up until Tuesday. I'm excited to be out on my own and having a kitchen where the gas doesn't get turned on by an insane cat who likes to be up on the stove, and who won't notice if the burner is lit, even if his tail is wrapped around it.

Watch out, Ames

I've been looking for an apartment since the ugliness with my mom (posted earlier in the blog) and it hadn't been going well. That is, until yesterday. Yesterday, my dad lent me an ApartmentFinder.com magazine. I used it to find PPM (Professional Property Management) and I applied online.

After applying, I went outside to mow the lawn. With the mower we have--cordless electric--you can only mow the lawn for half an hour--45 minutes if the lawn is already fairly short--and when I came in to plug the mower back in to charge it, my cell phone rang. It was PPM, asking about my application. After a while of talking, they told me that since I hadn't rented before, I could either pay 1.5 times the deposit, or get a co-signer. And oh, by the way, we're having a special on the deposit in that building right now--$200 instead of $410--so you'd only have to pay $300. I didn't realize it then, but that was God's way of saying "Get going. I will only hold a spot here for you for so long."

I sent off my application fee and deposit--which they required before I could get one of the apartments remaining--yesterday, so they should call me back later today or tomorrow. There are 3 spots remaining in the building so I'm praying that I get one.

If I get one of the spots, it'll just be an efficiency--no bedroom, just a murphy bed. The building I'm hoping to get a spot in is just across the street from Lake LaVerne, so I'll be close to two major CyRide routes......oh, and my friends, I guess. Now all that's left is finding a job.

Sleeping is hard

I had real trouble sleeping last night. I was too upset. Even my favorite baseball team getting a perfect game from their ace pitcher and pulling even in their division couldn't help me sleep--and yes, I'm a White Sox fan. Wanna fight about it?

Anyway, here's why I was--and still am--upset. My mom is currently out of town for work--nothing unusual there--and around 7 last night, the phone rang here. Since people that want to call me call my cell, my dad was the one that answered it. He talked for a while, making notes on the little pad he keeps in his pocket. After he hung up, I asked what it was about, and he told me that mom was going to be out of town for the rest of next week instead of coming back on Tuesday. I thought there had to be more to it, but I didn't press him. Instead, I announced my plans to find an apartment and move out. He didn't seem to happy about it, telling me that it would be expensive.

Shortly after that, I went to lie down in my room because it's too hot in that living room unless you're sitting where my dad sits. After a couple minutes, my cell phone rang. I picked up, saw that it was my mom, and said hello. She asked if dad had told me what the call she had just made to him was about, and I said "just that you'll be later getting home than you thought before." She told me that she had filed for divorce, and went through the usual "it's not your fault" thing. She hung up, and I started to cry. I realized that my timing on the apartment news was bad, and I started to see the family dynamic differently than I had before. I had always seen my dad as the buffer that kept my mom and me from killing each other, but now I'm starting to see that I was the one that kept them from fighting. I don't see myself at fault for the divorce, just as the reason they stayed together this long--and that's why I couldn't sleep last night.

I should say that I did actually get some sleep, but not much. I fell asleep about 1, but was awakened by one of the cats yowling in the kitchen at 2 in the morning. I couldn't get back to sleep until about 4, and then slept straight through until 8.

GET ME OUT OF HERE!

When you're feeling low, there's nobody like your mother to make you feel like complete garbage.

Last week, I got the official notice of my dismissal from ISU, and a letter from the department of residence instructing me to cancel my contract. As you might imagine, I wasn't in the best spirits this past weekend. On Sunday before church, my mom decided to remind me that I was supposed to get a job this summer. "I've been trying. I can't find anything." (a little half-truth here--I wasn't trying very hard for most of this summer) "Well, you were also supposed to be taking driver's ed. Have you done anything about that?" Here is where I blew up. I shouted back "NO! I don't even have a valid learner's permit right now, so I can't even sign up!" "Have you gotten loans for next year yet?" (Shows how much I tell them) I almost shouted back "No, but it doesn't matter. They won't let me come back for the fall anyway." but I managed to shut up. This is the real reason I don't like going home for the summer. If my mom and I are in the same city for more than a month, we end up fighting.

My dad and I left for church early that morning (an hour before the service started, with only a half-hour drive), and it took everything I had to keep from crying all the way there and all the way back. I don't like confrontation, but my mother seems to feed off it, and she knows just which buttons to push to get me shouting at her.

When we got home, I went straight to my room and stayed there for the rest of the day, crying for the first hour or so, then escaping into the world of Pokemon. She had yesterday off, but we didn't talk much.

As Queen put it,
I just gotta get out of this prison cell,
Someday I'm gonna be free, Lord!

I'm shocked

On Sunday, after my dad took me to Valley Church (for the 4th time in 5 weeks), I thanked him for driving me. His response? "It's no problem. I like going to church too." I was floored. I couldn't respond for a while. Actually, I don't think I've even responded to that yet. I thought he was a non-believer, but I guess he was just a non-practicer.

Now for something completely different:
On Thursday night, I found out what happens when my phone account no longer has enough money to continue a phone call. My phone just hangs up on the other person. Luckily, my parents both have cell phones now, so I was able to continue the call on one of theirs. I refilled my account on Sunday, so if you called between Thursday night and Sunday afternoon, I'm sorry.

Clowns are evil

Last Wednesday (the 10th), my mom came home from being out of town for work a day early. She didn't want to cook or do anything difficult for dinner, so she asked if I wanted to go to Cici's. (For those that don't know, Cici's is a pizza buffet--less than $7 for fountain drinks and buffet pizza) What I didn't realize then was that Wednesday night is a bad time to go to the Cici's near home.

See, on Wednesday nights, they have a clown come in. If you can't tell by the title of this post, I don't like clowns. The book It, by Stephen King, just reinforced my dislike of clowns. Anyway, one thing that is bad about clowns is that they attract a lot of kids. Problem is, I can't be around kids. I'm not a pedophile or anything, I just can't be around kids. It just reminds me that I want to have kids someday (this is the same reason I can't watch the live-action Grinch movie--Cindy Lou Who is too adorable). I'm a 23-year-old man, and I can sometimes hear my biological clock ticking--and I used to think that was just a phrase.

I know I need to be patient and work on finding a good woman before I even think about having kids, but it's hard sometimes. Maybe if I start watching Supernanny or shows like that, it'll scare me off thinking about having kids for a while. On the other hand, I think parents that let their kids get that out of hand are royal screw-ups, so that may not help at all.

Completely insane rant

I know, I'm posting twice in one day, but I need to get this insanity off my chest, and it didn't really fit in that last post.

So, I was thinking about the vampire-gorillas (like I said in the title--this is a completely insane rant) and how they seem so docile and peaceful. Then I remembered that vampires can only be killed by stakes made of ash (according to 'Salems Lot by Stephen King--again, I'm not in the mood for fact-checking, it might ruin my rant). That got me thinking. The vampire-gorillas are waiting for the emerald ash borers to finish off the ash trees before they turn hostile and turn us all into legions of the undead. The question is, what are the emerald ash borers getting out of this deal, other than all the trees they can eat? I don't know. I'll keep on this insane mindset and try to figure it out.

Also, I've been considering the possibility that I may, in fact, be part vampire. There are many things to indicate this, but a few discrepancies. I'll start with the supporting evidence:

1. The two marks on my neck that look like a healed vampire bite


2. My aversion to sunlight


3. My aversion to crossing over water (bridges are okay)


4. My mild obsession with counting things--Sesame Street got it right. One way to kill a vampire is to put a pile of mustard seeds (or other similar item) on your doorstep, and the vampire will obsessively count each one, forgetting that he needs to be back before sunrise


5. I suffer from anemia--the reason vampires drink blood is that they can't absorb iron very easily, and so they can't make red blood cells


6. I can't fall asleep in darkness. There has to be some hint of light in the room

Now the evidence against me being part vampire:

1. I love garlic, and it should keep me away (were I a vampire)


2. Sunlight doesn't kill me--I can be outside for hours in summer without so much as a sunburn


3. I'm able to go into a church, read the Bible, and hold a crucifix without getting burned


4. I'm not following the advance of the emerald ash borer with rabid intensity (see earlier in this post)


5. I have a reflection--this one is so obvious I almost forgot it


6. I don't have hair on the middle knuckle of my fingers (check your friends--hair on the middle knuckles means they are either a vampire or a werewolf)

Anyway, that's enough insanity for now. Time to go read the paper and listen to something besides the Esmerelda soundtrack (three times through in a row is almost too much).

Addictions

This post may be a little more serious than some of the previous posts, but I feel I should talk about one of my addictions. Although, when I decided to write this, I didn't expect it'd be written while listening to the Esmerelda soundtrack.....or with a cat sitting on my lap. It's hard to be serious in these circumstances. So let's try to get this out of my system.

Have you....ever....wondered
What it would be like to fly a kite?
In the night?
With the stars as your guide, you can dance beneath the light of the moon.

OR

Please excuse me, I have a question.
Have you seen a man, a man named Tom?

I started thinking about this last night while taking a little walk. When I got to the intersection of Indianola and Indianola (check Google maps if you don't believe me), I started thinking about the reasons that I used to go straight there, and the main one was to indulge in one addiction (although I later remembered that I didn't even go that way). I am talking about my pornography addiction. I know that I am still addicted, and for two reasons. First is that I've quit caffeine 3 or 4 times, and yet I now need to drink a 24-ounce bottle of Mountain Dew every day to keep the withdrawal symptoms away, so I know addictions are permanent. Second is that I still get the urge to type in one of those familiar URLs and spend the day just looking at as much as I can. Right now, many of those URLs are running through my head, just begging to be typed in.

I used to walk a mile and a half (each way) in the August sun (when I can barely stand being outside in the late May sun) just to indulge. My computer at school was used about half the time to look at porn (the other half was internet gaming, but that's an addiction for another time). At the peak, I had between 50 and 75 magazines, 3 DVDs (I didn't like DVDs very much, if you can't tell), and my computer had around 2 days of video and 100-200 pictures. All of that is gone now, except in my memory. These images surface in my mind from time to time, and I immediately feel shame and guilt about my past. The only image of those I want to remember at all is the two seperate trips (I had stashes at college and at home), each with a full garbage bag, down to the trash.

You may wonder where I got all of this, and I've already admitted this much, so here goes. I stole most of the magazines from my father (I bought 3 or 4 myself). The videos and pictures on my computer were mostly from pay sites (my bank account dropped to negative values multiple times), and a few from free sites. I was subscribing to so many different pay sites that I lost track of which ones I was actually paying, and which ones I had unsubscribed. This was my way of saving money--since I had dial-up at home, I couldn't use the subscriptions to their fullest, so I'd cancel my subscriptions before summer, and start them up again in the fall. I had so lost track of where the money was going that I paid $39.28 every month (yes, I remember the amount exactly) to a site that I wasn't visiting because I couldn't find it to cancel--for about a year and a half after I had stopped visiting.

Well, I'm hoping that by finally admitting how far down I was, the temptation will lessen. Just in case that doesn't work directly, please be praying for a little help for me.

It's quiet here

My parents are both out of the state, so it's very quiet in this house. They left on Sunday, and the first one won't be back until Wednesday evening. I thought about just not worrying about putting on clothes in the morning, but then I realized I have to go outside at least twice a day (to get the newspaper and to get the mail) and then there are the other four problems. They are an 18-year-old cat that is no longer able to retract his claws, a 24-pound cat that thinks my lap is his personal space, a 23-toed cat who likes to sit on one side of the couch, and a cat that loves human contact. So I decided I'd have to wear clothes.

My dad took me to Valley Church again on Sunday, and I noticed that the guy who made the "Love at First Sight" remix on the James & James CD is in the Valley Church worship band. After the service, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Of course, I fell for the old "put your hand on his right shoulder and stand to his left" trick. It was a guy from my connection group this past year--the freshman from West Des Moines who was heading to California the next day (which would be yesterday by now).

Anyway, I was thinking about vampires a couple days ago--because of two strange marks on my neck that could be from a vampire bite, and my body just overhealed the spots--and I remembered reading that they don't like to cross water. According to the book Congo by Michael Crichton, neither do gorillas--not sure if that's true, and I don't feel like reading gorilla research during time off from school. I therefore must conclude that all gorillas are vampires. I hope that this will not cause a panic, but I know how the internet is, so if anyone's interested, I have plenty of garlic here to protect us from these vampire-gorillas. You just have to find me, and hope the marks on my neck aren't from a vampire bite......Muhahahahaha.