Living in New York, I’ve learned to value every minute, every encounter, and every moment. A moment is one of the most unique measures of time because it is based on feeling. I’ve met and dated a lot of good looking men in New York and while a lot of my relationships were short lived and casual, I’ve found it hard to disconnect myself from the moments we shared even if it didn’t last for long was everything short of romantic.

A few drinks and enough chemistry can lead you to act in the heat of the moment – as I so often do (not always the smartest decision on my part but lots of memorable, good times due to my drunken spontaneity). An old friend – who we’ll call hockey player – from high school, asked me to go out a few weeks back. He hadn’t been in town for awhile and wanted to get out. Considering my 9th grade crush on the guy, I quickly grabbed the opportunity to go out with him – no hesitation or questions asked. We went out on a Sunday night to a local bar. Not exactly the best night for a date but we decided that we’d have fun regardless of the crowd (or lack of).

He picked me up and was dressed perfectly in a white, fitted v-neck and jeans smelling of cologne. The whole car ride I nervously fiddled with my phone and attempted to start conversation by talking about high school and old friends.

Even though I anticipated a friendly night, I couldn’t help but be attracted. He was just as good looking now as he was at fourteen.

The ride to the bar wasn’t far from my house but felt endless and had everything to do with the fact I felt awkward. We get there and walk to a bar for our first drink. I started with a beer. We talk about his life back in Michigan and hopes to get signed with a pro hockey team. One drink turned into two. The nerves start to vanish thanks to the liquor surging in my veins. I talk about my writing and disinterest in becoming an English teacher contrary to everyone’s stereotype of English majors. The conversation makes a quick switch to relationships and dating. He tells me not to friend zone him. I’m a little shocked that he didn’t want to be friend zoned when it was clear that this was nothing more than that. We finish up our second drink and mutually agree to switch locations (since the crowd in the bar we were at were filled with people our parents age or creeps) and start bar hopping. At this point, I’m tipsy from drinking too fast and can barely cross the street to the next bar. We sit down at the next bar. The crowd is far worse than the first spot. It’s nothing but Spanish music. I decide to start dancing even though I can’t get into the music. He comments on my dancing being nothing like that of the girls in Michigan. I smile and continue dancing. He whispers in my ear and asks me to kiss him, I say no. We leave for the next bar which is a lot more college-esque. He orders a Blue Moon beer and I opt for a cranberry, pineapple and vodka. We finish these in moments and are ready for something else. We get the same thing – vodka mixed with cranberry. It’s 2am at this point and I’m drunk. It wasn’t my intention to get drunk but, it happened. I get up to use the bathroom while he waits at the bar so we can head home. I take my time in the bathroom. All I can think about is making out. The right amount of liquor sends my hormones shooting through the roof. Even though he is obnoxiously good looking and quick witted, I was determined to add his name to the list of men conquered. I come out the bathroom and he’s gets up to head to the door. I follow. We sit in the car and don’t drive off for five minutes in hopes of shaking off the ungodly amount of drinks we had just thrown back. He asks what I want to do while we sit in the car and I shrug. I can’t think straight let formulate a coherent sentence. He starts the car and heads to my house and asks if I want to go home or hang out for a bit. I’ve been in enough situations to know that his idea of hanging out doesn’t mean going to the movies or playing a game of Scrabble but ripping each other’s clothes off. In spite of what I know I should do, I agree because it’s what I’d be thinking about too. I show him a spot by my house that’s empty and quiet. He parks. He goes in to kiss me which I happily accept by parting my mouth. We start making out. As expected he’s a good kisser. Not too much tongue with just the right amount of tease. I move from the passenger seat to the driver’s seat by straddling my legs over his. I can feel his hard on as I prop myself on his crotch. He starts to reach into my leggings and because I’m drunk and all inhibitions have gone out the window I happily oblige by quickly slipping out of my leggings. We’re too drunk to realize how uncomfortable our position is. We’re making it work. He slides his hand into my panties and feels his way around, slowly letting a finger slip inside sending chills down my legs. His hand’s rhythm at the perfect tempo. The pleasure settles in my stomach. I’m conscious of the fact I’m giving in to his advances far too soon but it’s too enjoyable to turn down. His fingers thrust hitting my spot over and over as I moan completely disregarding the fact I’m parked in the middle of my suburban area. The night has gotten too hot to start caring now. I’ve always been turned on by a man that was good with his hands, and his hands navigated my frame perfectly. I was completely submissive to the way he touched me. He fingered me for five minutes but it felt longer. He immediately asks to fuck but I turn him down though I’m tempted. I pull my pants back on and move back to the passenger seat reflecting on the amazing public foreplay and ask to go home, in disbelief that we had just hooked up.

The next day he texted me and we made plans to hang out again in agreement that the previous night was enough to make any person horny for days to come.

He went back to Michigan a few days ago to continue training for hockey and hockey camp. We hung out and hooked up one more time after our first “date” at his house (where we got drunk again, on wine) but I didn’t let it get beyond foreplay in spite of having downed two glasses of wine and a Blue Moon beer at his place.

Though nothing would have ever come out of our short lived affair but a good time, it was definitely a great start summer. Not exactly a moment to cherish but definitely one to look back on and be turned on by.

Flings such as this are sometimes far more memorable than relationships with years of time invested. Odd how that works out, right?

We’ve all gone out of our way for someone that is undeserving, someone that is not receptive to our advances no matter how genuine or full of love they may be. We’ve all been in a situation where we are far too nice to a person that anyone with common sense would give up on. If asked why we give so much to this person we have no explanation or reasoning.

It might be unfair to generalize because “we” are not all this “weak” as one might characterize this type of person. Perhaps you’ve never been in this situation. Some of us just aren’t looking to love but rather be in casual relationships. To widen the demographic let’s pretend it’s a similar scenario but sex is what is being chased. In my own experience, I’ve found that men like what they cannot have but I do not think this trait is exclusive to men, a lot of women seem to be oddly attracted to the “bad boy”, the boy they cannot change but hope they will someday.

Consider a child that is told not to touch something but returns shortly after he is reprimanded. The child knows what he is doing is wrong but rather than give up, he/she continues to pursue the object because they must get a closer look and deeper understanding of it some way, somehow.

It seems to be in our nature to desire what we cannot have. As people we like the thrill of the hunt whether it is someone we must love or someone we must be intimate with. There is something really profound about the way we can continuously chase something that is just out of our reach. The chase stimulates an adrenaline rush and is much like a game of cat and mouse.

Logically this can be detrimental and leave you feeling disappointed (because in most cases, it’s the things we can’t have that we don’t need) however, in a way it can be beautiful how we completely throw away all logic and go after something just because we feel it’s something we have to do to be fulfilled. It’s beautiful the way we can solely rely on our feelings instead of letting our mind be our guide. Sometimes your mind can be what holds you back from experiencing life.

A lot of people don’t look at it from this perspective but something about going after what we can’t have is free spirited and makes for an amazing story we can share in the future.

As hard as it is to believe chasing someone can be fun. It may not end the way we hope but it certainly can be an enjoyable ride and something we take for what it’s worth and when you’re young, that’s what life is truly about.

My mind has wondered farther, not without the help of another of course and I realized how good of a life I truly have.  I ate breakfast out on my roof yesterday with one of my dearest friends on one of the nicest days of the year.  My favorite band playing in the background, amazing food and great conversation made every second of my vertigo worth it.  It reminded me what I take for granted.  The fact that I am in a position to cook a meal and sit out and enjoy a beautiful day on a day off for what it is, when I see loved ones that struggle to remove themselves from the very places they cannot stand.

Meanwhile, while all this is jumping around in my mind I have one of the biggest epiphany of my young writing career.  A short story version of the soon-to-be novella will be entitled The Suicide Room.  It started as some sick and twisted scenario in my head and was soon developed into something much broader and detailed.  I will be sharing it shortly, as in the next week shortly, so get excited.

Minus the Bear – Omni came out last week and I have listened to it front to back and it is amazing.  Probably their best yet and look forward to perhaps doing a few more Minus the Beats.  Especially for My Time, and Secret Country.  Check them out and let me know what you think I should do.

side note: self-motivation is a virtuous circle

It’s handicapped man in the wheelchair rolling around town.

It’s the mentally disabled woman wandering about.

It’s the clinically obese woman waiting at the bus stop.

These people float in and out of our day’s and we pay them no mind.  Their existence means little to us in the moment and we pass them by like they were a piece of rubbish on the side of the road.  In a long line of people in the world that stand next to these people I stick out like a sore thumb as I peer over at them searching for some meaning to their lives.  Their lives are no more insignificant than mine.  There are people that love them and care for them just as there are for me.  I look at the flip side of that coin though and see an unhappy, lonely individual that is escaping something, even if it’s only for a short while.

The elderly man sits alone in the restaurant trying to reconnect with some memory with his children or grandchildren that he has some how been detached.  Perhaps, the man is a widower and spends his time here because it was a normal breakfast spot from them on the weekends and this is the only way he is able to cope.  He has trouble talking to you, but you can still see the kindness in his eyes behind all that pain he hides.  As he holds the door open his hands shake.  The tears well in my eyes as I can no longer find the strength to be happy.  He walks out of sight, alone, not a sole to greet him.

The handicapped man in the wheelchair rolling through town holds onto the memories of the days he could walk.  He still takes the same route he would run in the morning.  His shirt old, haggard, and the same each time I see him looks to be years old.  He cruises quickly, his arms glisten with sweat as he pumps his way up the small hill pass all the neighborhood shops.  He waves to people here and there, it seems like people know him, but they do not really know him.  At each intersection he searches for a new direction, which way is the best, what kind of terrain does he feel like taking, and where will it take him.  I don’t know where this man is from, but with each door that is held for him and for each person the steps to the side in the wake of his wheelchair my heart weeps just a little more.  What has brought this man, day after day, to the town square to show himself off.

I see her from time to time.  She takes the same steps down the street every day.  Walk a 20-30 paces and turn back and look at what may or may not be following her.  Did something attack her?  Her neurotic behavior suggests nothing different.  I watch from afar and I believe this to be a bit disturbing, but I can’t help but feel the need to want to reach out and help this poor sole.  Now I begin wrestling with my conscience.  Perhaps, there is not a soul to to reach out and help because they are content with their life, how ever out of control it may seem.

She stand there, her head only 5 feet 1 inch from the ground and her bones struggle to hold up the body her frame was never meant to carry.  There is nothing for her to do.  At first glance, one might consider this person to even be mentally challenged because of the way the fat folds over her eyes, practically blinding her, and just the way her body had been malformed from her uncontrollable disease.  More than likely, this is the smartest girl in school.  She stood at the bus stop with her sweatsuit that didn’t match and her ‘Hello Kitty’ umbrella and extra small backpack looking about.  No one has ever told this girl she is pretty and has accepted it.

I’m probably completely wrong about every one of these people and most of them have happy homes to go to with people who love them endlessly.  Why is it that I choose to connect with these people on such a level?  Why can I not see the happy side of their lives?  Perhaps, it is a lonely part of myself that yearns to connect with someone else, if only for a few moments and to let out that emotion in hopes of feeling better.  Either way, I don’t know why I feel this way, but it is how I observe the world.

That lonely feeling creeps in, the kind you just can’t shake.  No matter how many people you surround yourself with, it’s like a cloak you wear with you on a 90 degree day.  The busier you stay the more focused you become, but the down time because your worst enemy as you dwell on everything that makes you lonely.  A vicious circle of negative emotions that doesn’t seem to have an end.  On the other hand, one person’s misfortune because the next person’s dream come true.  For every heartache there is love filling someone elses life.  You can’t explain it, it’s just the way it is.  I love hearing about all the romance that springs up around me.  Whether it be for those who have never truly experienced it, or those who are rediscovering it.

I started taking an interesting in trending topics on twitter, buzzfeed, and just the web in general.  Some of them are pretty funny, and I promise to start taking blogging to the next level regarding of them.

Trend 1 (twitter): Belieber:  One who is a believer in Justin Beiber.  Can someone tell me what is special about this kid?  Did he save an entire country from starvation or donate all his allowance money to charity to help the Haitian earthquake survivors?  I need to know, otherwise I will never be a Belieber.

Trend 2 (twitter): #IndonesiaWants30STM <—- which is a hash tag for how Indonesia wants 30 Seconds to Mars to have a tour in their country.  Indonesia really?  I can’t imagine that they 30STM is jumping for this trend to go viral.  Well can’t be too bad I guess, with all the island hoping on Jared Leto’s ego and entertaining the densest population of Muslims in Southeast Asia.  #fail.

Trend 3 (buzzfeed): John Gosselin’s Faux Hawk: Not only does he have the award for most irresponsible father in America, but to add insult to injury this cat just can’t give up the fight that he’s going bald.  To illustrate my point, above is the link to his newest style balding faux hawk.  Just give it up and shave your head man.  Yes you will still look like a douche bag, but hey, if the shoe fits…wear it.

I understand the past couple days have been a little boring, but I have been working on a few side projects here and there that I will be posting soon so I can entertain a few more of you.

side note: i’m hoping that tom shaggy will be a trending topic soon so i can make fun of how ridiculous i am, making fun of people on my BLOG.  #whoami?

At this point, one begins to lose control and needs to re-evaluate his current situation and firmly plant his feet back onto the ground.  Everything he has come to love and appreciate he feels detatched from and can no longer see who he truly is, a case of mistaken identity, or even lack of identity.  The person that was on a plan before was roughed up and tried to weather a storm that was all too powerful for his young and inexperienced mind could handle.  With any luck, all the people surrounding said individual, can hopefully sympathesize and can help them through.  Friends come out of now where to support and become the wise ones.  Family who we never see or talk to became our go-to people.  The one with the most experience can now step in and calm the rest of the heard and collect them in a group again and, for the most part, it seems that the world comes together in a funky sort-of harmony.

The hardest part of this cosmic event is the mess it leaves in its wake.  The emotional and physical, but some things are just meant to happen a certain way.  There is a reason the event happened in the first place and whether it was a mistake or it was a test of character is irrellevant, what matters is that I’m here now and need to find a way back to myself.  I have embraced it and have set new goals for myself.  Feels good to have goals and even better to complete them.  Something new has begun and I’m excited to see where it takes me.  The path that was laid is gone and it is up to me to find a new one, or even better, blaze my own.

side note: he who drop watch in toilet have shitty time.

Tokyo – 10 years ago

The train slowed at the station and the young promising man stepped from the train onto the platform. He was the only American to be seen for miles.  He carried with him a suitcase and sports coat draped over the same arm.  He made his way down the steps from the platform above to the street below.  He took the escalator.  A small Japanese man waited at the bottom with a sign “Jake.”  He looked around and figured that could only mean him.  He approached the man.

“Mr. Ambrose?” The small man asked.

“Yes.”  He tipped his cap.

The man welcomed him into the car. “The limousine will see you to your hotel.  Please get in.”

Without hesitation Jake entered the limo.  He rolled down his window and looked out at the world.  Tokyo was a bright city with many attractions.  After the meeting, all he could think about was returning to his room to rest.  The limo pulled up in front of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel Tokyo.  He walked up the small carpeted stairway and into the main lobby.

“Any messages?” Jake asked.

“None sir, your room is all prepared.”  The concierge points to the elevator. While approaching the elevator he passes a beautiful American woman.  She is dressed in her business attire and makes way for the hotel bar.  He locks eyes with her and she with him as he enters the elevator.

Jake slides his key card into the lock and clicks open the door.  The lights flick on and a room full of people erupts in congratulations.  Jake is stunned.  He boss stands in the center of the floor with a cigar in his mouth clapping his hands at the young executive.

“Welcome the new partner to the party.”

Jake’s jaw hangs on the floor.  He takes the cigar from his boss’s hand, but is still distracted by the woman’s face downstairs.  He is eager to find out who she is.  The party gathers around Jake and toast to the new partner of the American conglomerate.  It became apparent that this was not the place for him at the moment.  He made his way to the door to gather himself and get a breath of air.

“Don’t go too far, partner!” This boss gave him a thumbs up.

“You know it.” Jake smiled.

Downstairs, Jake walked through the lobby and into the hotel bar.  It was more of a club than anything.  Business executives like himself that had just closed their own business deals were now celebrating.  He could not see her though.  He took a seat at the back and ordered his whiskey neat.  He took small sips and scanned the room for her beauty.  A touch from behind and that smell of designer perfume was all the assurance he needed.

“Mind if I join you?” She asked.

“Not at all, please.”

She sat next to him and they talked for hours.  The warm sake helped facilitate the conversation.  The crowd shuffled in and out and Jake began to forget about his own party in the floors above.  They exchanged smiles and laughs until their bodies hurt.  The looked deep into each other’s being.  A look that goes far beyond any other first date.  It was as if they were able to find out everything the needed about each other with each passing questions and conversation.

“I’m Sarah.” She extends her hand.

“Jake,” he shakes her hand.

“Do you know what today is?” Sarah asks. Jake looks down at his Seiko watch.

“Friday? Yea, Friday the 22^nd of November.”

“That’s correct, the Day of Small Snow,” she states, “look.” She points out the window. Jake turns to see the street lamp outside.  Small flurries pass in and out of the light.

“It’s beautiful.” Jake said.

Jake lit a cigarette and inhaled slowly and let out a deep breath.  The long green, reupholstered couch was becoming uncomfortable. He stirred for a second.

“It was then that I realized I’d spend the rest of my life with her,” Jake said slowly.

Dr. L’ling’s pen came to a screeching halt as he underlined a few words on his paper.  He looked up at Jake.

The times of endless working should always be followed up with a time of seemingly endless play.  If not, then you are doing something wrong.  Bring a friend along, or perhaps two, three is sometimes best.  While Thursday night was occupied with a movie, Friday marked the beginning of one the most eventful weekends in months.  Friday night, “J” arrives to kick of the weekend with some beers at the local pub around the corner from my house.  They offer many different kinds of beer here, THANK GOD, so I order the Harpoon Oyster Stout, and mini burgers.  Dinner, check, beer number one, check, good people, check.  “B” decided to come out with us as well.  I haven’t seen him in some time either.  The hostess at this local pub, “D,”  is one of the coolest people I know.  Some number of beers later she joined our little shindig in the corner and contributed to the mindless banter that was our Friday night.  We couldn’t help, but laugh our asses off at all the ridiculous things we all had in common.  It was like old times, back in high school even, when life just wasn’t that important yet.  D left at a time that is now easily forgettable and it was at that point I spotted a good friend of mine that couldn’t walk from her seat at the bar to the front door without falling over.  Her plan was to drive home.  So being the good Samaritan that I am, I tell her that I will be driving her home because I didn’t feel like finding her name in the obituaries the next day.  After a little hassle she turned over the keys to me. She owned a mini cooper, score! It was automatic though…..pussy.  We made our way across town to the lovely home that she lived in, it was now around 2 am.  The roads we needed to travel were all 30 mph roads with cops placed at every corner.

Long story short, 2 hours later we found ourselves back at my apartment with our sanity barely intact.  There is always a benefit to being the only sober person within miles of the party.  1) You get to report back to everyone in the morning and verify that they did in fact throw up all over that waitress.  2) Everyone arrives safely on that trip from point A to point B.  No one ever said it was easy though.  Sometimes the details in the middle can be hard to take.  I found that all those years I spent at the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels were a fucking joke.  Some of the shit that must of come out of my mouth and thinking that I smooth about it all.  Makes me laugh and cry all at the same time.

The morning after is always the toughest for everyone.  The sober ones just want to get the day moving and the hung over ones just want to prolong the day as much as possible.  I was guilty as the next guy when it came to pushing off the beginning of my days in college.  We eventually started the day around 1030 am or so and made our way to breakfast, B, J and myself.  The rest of the day we spent playing the waiting game.  Tonight was the night that we sunk to our lowest.  We were going to the Gold Club.  For those of you who are not familiar with the Gold Club, it is a Gentleman’s Club near where I live.  The place was wall to wall dude sweat, with dragon tee’s for as far as the eye could see and also a hand full of pedophiles to boot.  Now, I’m thinking that once you cross the threshold of a place like this, you are no longer a normal individual, but if I were to create a standard of normal, it would be J and I sitting relatively quite at the stage with a Guinness and Sam Boston Lager in hand with a handful of singles.  Tonight must have been a special night because two of the girls, they were a pair, spun from the poles on center stage like something of the NC-17 Barnum and Bailey’s act.  at one point they spun around the pole holding on by ONLY their crotch.  And with a tattoo like Ride or Die above their belly button I know she meant business.  Unlike the other girl who made small talk with us about stuffy and dirty it felt inside.  I quickly responded back by saying, “Yea your right, normally it feels so clean in here!”  She didn’t get it unfortunately.

Sunday I spent time reflecting.  All the times spent with these guys, even after high school and all the crazy shit we’d pull.  This weekend was a sign that it didn’t have to end because we had become “adults.”  On the contrary, we had just found new ways to entertain ourselves.  Friendships come and they go, fleeting sometimes, but no matter what we learn from all the people we meet and situations we are in.  All the assholes from our high school class that we are so glad we never see anymore, I can’t help but thank them.  Thank you for making me who I am.  The host or hostess that we see and are friends with for only a day or two, thank you for making see who I really am inside.  How about the poor man at the bus stop that asks for money because he has none, but then answers his cell phone.  Live and learn.

side note: the truth is, you could slit my throat..and with my one last gasping breath I’d apologize for bleeding on your shirt.

I was told by one of my employees that I needed to listen to the new John Mayer album.  I went ahead and bought it off of iTunes and it was the best decision I have made in a while.  It is awesomely romantic, listen up Jennifer, and really speaks to his maturity.  Musically, this guy has come a long way since, Your Body’s a Wonderland, and I commend him a lot for that.  Now, I realize that John Mayer does not need MY approval to continue his career, but being someone who wasn’t a fan before, I can now say that I’m converted.  The man sure knows what he’s doing with that guitar and his lyrics have taken a turn for the better. Edge of Desire is a beautiful song.

It got me thinking all the relationships I have been in and what music does to me when they begin and end.  This guy is truly speaking from his heart and you can hear it with every pluck of the guitar and word he speaks.  The emotions that we cling to when we are at our loneliest or our most secure are so mercurial, but it makes us so human and vulnerable.  I have always clung to music in any situation, it keeps me as far from reality as possible without losing touch with myself or the world around me.  It’s also nice to know that some other poor bastard out there knows the heartache I’m going through or the love I feel day in and day out.

side note: sometimes filter isn’t what anyone needs, say what you need to say.

Lesson One: Men are not very bright.  Anything of the opposite sex that shows attention in the smallest of ways is going to grab our attention.  A small wave or wink or even “the eye” is a green light to us to use or infinite supply of cheesy pick-up lines that we know don’t work anyway.

Lesson Two: The bar is the place we go when the brain in our head ceases to create any sort of luck in the dating/relationship world.  Brain #2 takes over and we feed it with all the alcohol in the world.  We believe that the more booze we put in our system the easier it is to talk to women and the smoother we are at doing it.  Sometimes we are successful, but considering the mental deficiency that we have caused for ourselves with all the alcohol we’ve ingested our prey has become exponentially more uninteresting, and sometimes unattractive, then we would normally subject ourselves to.  That said, if you have entered a bar to re-enter the dating scene, you might as well walk right now, because this is not the place to do it.

Final Lesson: Play hard to get. If you really want to see if the guy is worth it, play with him.  See if you can keep his interest for more than 30 seconds while you bend over to pick up your clutch you just dropped.  Any guy worth his weight in gold will keep up with your games or pursue you outside the bar scene if he is genuinely interested.

This was the biggest thing on my mind.  Work lasted until 10 pm and I immediately went home and watched the end of “Screamers” which is the absolute worst movie ever.  Upon finishing the movie I attempted to fully write this post last night, but I began falling asleep and postponed until this morning.

I would like to say one thing thought, remember those little bouncy balls?  The ones that you would get out of the quarter machine at K-Mart?  Was it just me or did everyone pick a small room and through them as hard as you could against the wall and watch it bounce everywhere.  Garages were great if they were all concrete…they would bounce forever!!  It’s the little things in life that excite me.

side note: any douche bag who denies any of this is either lying to himself or never been laid.

side note #2: for the women who go to the bar just to get laid, give it up, you are about, or will be about, as useful as the Shake Weight.