Thoughts On My Relative

OK, so she is My Father's uncle's daughter, which makes those two cousins, which means she is my first cousin once removed.  She is nice, for the most part.  She has this weird tic where her right eye is closed most of the time, and she laughs at inappropriate moments, like all old Chinese people do.  But she has never asked me about going back to school and she only has asked if I have a girlfriend only one time.  Whether it's obliviousness or a respect for boundaries, I appreciate the non-prying.

I also have to say that she has not been as big a pain in the ass as I initially feared.  I have felt I need to engage with her, ask her questions and even invite her to things out of the house.  That kind of sucks seeing as she came just as the World Cup started.  But it's been good, at least from my perspective; instead of needing to see if she wants to go somewhere in town, I have been able to go downtown to watch the soccer matches yesterday/Saturday, for example.  That's because, surprisingly, my aunt and uncle have been ferrying her around time for the past few days.  They've gone to the Megamall, the Sculpture Garden, and, get this, the bingo hall five minutes away from me that I have never heard of till last night's dinner.  I have no idea how my aunt and uncle know her.  But they have been doing all the sightseeing/escorting work I was afraid I would have to do.

Nevertheless, it's still kind of weird to have a fourth person living in the house.  I have taken my bath towel and put it in my room as long as my first cousin once removed is here.  I have to admit I still hold my nose whenever I take a shower after she does.  And it's weird to see her undergarments just hanging on the towel rack.  Oh, and I feel the urge to masturbate but I can't, because she's is in the room right next door.

I will still have to deal with this for a whole week.  A whole week!  But it's manageable.  I dare say that I will miss her when she leaves.

Thoughts & Anxieties

There are so many things I want to do.  Well, no, there is one thing I want to do: Go out and watch some soccer.  But can I do that with my relative still here?

But she's doing something with my aunt and uncle.  If/Once she leaves, I can go out and do whatever I want.  Right?

Well, I guess I could.  But we're having a family dinner at home this evening.  It'll be special; everybody's coming home.  Should I stay home?

But I don't want to stay home.  I want to go out.  And besides, there's nothing for me to do here.  I'm going to go out and ask if they need my help with anything, and they're going to say no.  If that's the case, what am I doing here?  My time would be better spent outside.

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My Asshole Brother's coming over for dinner tonight.  Thought he was in Oregon?  Oh well, at least there are a lot of other people here acting as a filter -- this special relative, my aunt, maybe my uncle and aunt.  Hopefully we'll just sit and eat and not talk.  Or at least I'll be able to.

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My alumni club event is coming up and I don't know if people are signing up.  Do people know about it?

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I hate this gig I have now.  I need a goddamn hour.  But I need a paycheck, too.

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That's all I've got.

This Violates Labor Law, I'm Sure Of It

Don't know what to make of my new job ... well, it's more of a gig, even though it might last three weeks instead of two.  But the weirdest thing is that, at least for now, our hours are being set ... and it lasts only eight hours.  Total.  There isn't a half-hour or (ideally for me) an hour.  No, you get two 15-minute breaks that are on their dime, but taking a long lunch?  No.

Is that even legal?  I swear that if you work eight hours, you're entitled to an unpaid break.  That is weird, and it messes things up for me because I'm dead tired without a nap.  Crikey.

Guess I Can Cross Two Cocksuckers Off My List

Both these things happened yesterday.

So remember when I talked to you about ***a*, who I miss fucking, and whose daughter I was afraid I was going to run into if I tried going to her apartment?  Well, after lunch I went to the apartment and buzzed myself in.  And I knocked on the door.  And I saw ... her daughter.  It has been several years, and I was wearing sunglasses and a backwards hat.  But seeing the daughter's face ... yeah, I can tell she remembers me from that fateful night.  She played it off, though.  And I just asked, straightforwardly, if she was there.  She wasn't, so I just asked if she could tell her mother that I came by.

Will she give ***a* my message?  Maybe.  Will ***a* reach out to me?  Probably not.  Cross one off.

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Later in the afternoon I was at the library just tooling about.  I see ****e, a really intoxicating girl I've fooled around with, but who's been in and out of social media and sometimes incommunicado with me.  She had recently lost her phone and was asking for phone numbers; eventually, to make sure I wasn't being catfished, I gave her mine on Messenger.

I had been messaging her off and on until yesterday.  She had posted some footage of her at a baseball game.  The players were kids, and she referred to them as "the kids."  I have never heard her mention children.  So I asked her on Messenger if she actually is a MILF.  She said that those were her boyfriend's kids.

"Oh," I replied, "That kind of complicates things between us, if you know what I mean."

I checked back just now.  I can't get back onto her Facebook profile.

Did I do something?

Cross two off ... ?

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Have to go to work now.  Two-week job.  Hope they like me.

Is This Considered Stalking?

With my "time off," I have spent it trying to do productive things -- blogging this, exercising, going to the library.  But one of the things I want to do is to meet up with ***a* again -- to talk, but more importantly, to fuck.

Weird thing, though, is that I haven't been in contact with her for the past few months.  It is very weird, in fact.  She has been pretty OK with getting back to my texts, and she appeared as though she was OK with our fuck sessions.  It's just that I haven't been able to hook up with her because of work.  The last time we messed around was back in the fall.  We texted a few months ago, when she was going to Duluth, but when I tried messaging her again, I haven't gotten a response.

So, with free time on my hands, I have decided to try and visit her place to see if she's in.  I first tried dropping by last week, and I saw her barking dogs, so she didn't move or anything, but I didn't see her.  I've tried a couple times since, including Monday morning, but I did not push my face up on her screen door like I did the first time.  All I saw was a dark living room, and so I didn't try to peer any closer.

The complication to all this is her daughter.  She has a daughter, see, and I remember her face looking up at me at the end of a party ***a* hosted many, many years ago.  I had messed around in that party (not with her, though, I don't think), and I don't think she was supposed to be there when I left.  The daughter may have come home too early.  But that look ... man, that look of getting caught doing things she doesn't quite know but knows is, uh, adult ... she remembers me.  And she'll remember me if she ever sees me again, even if it's been years.  She's a teenager now; she might remember my face even better now.

That first visit was last week, which was also the last week of that city's high school.  So when I drop by now, there's a very good chance that ***a*'s daughter will be there.  But you know what?  I don't care.  Why?  I want to see if ***a* still wants to fuck or if she's trying to ghost me.  I miss fucking her, I really do, so I'm going to drop by to see what the deal is.

I tried that this morning, for example.  But after eating my banana in my car, I was about to approach the apartment.  But then I see a taxi in the parking lot, and the driver was still in the car.  What is he doing, waiting for a fare?  At 8 in the morning?  Weird.  But that didn't stop me from walking to the apartment.  Well, sort of.  I went to the window which I know is ***a*'s daughter's room, and I was afraid that it was open.  What if she sees me?  So I didn't approach any closer, even though I wasn't that close.  And fuck-all if that matters because the cab driver saw me half-ass my way to this apartment.  Man, I should have just gotten back in my car and drove off as soon as I saw that driver.

But!  I don't need to go to the IRS to get copies of my W2's, and I'm still horny af.  I'm going to drive back to the apartment complex and see if ***a* is there now.  Anybody who lives there will be awake by now.  And who knows?  Maybe the daughter is off working or with friends now.  Maybe ***a* is there, all alone, with nothing to do.  And I, stopping off to get $100 from my ATM, will come swooping in, propositioning an offer for an afternoon of plunging into her.

And if she isn't there?  Well, it's not weird that I dropped by some woman's place four or five times in the past two weeks and twice in the same morning.  Is it?  Please tell me it isn't.

All My Voicemails Are Gone, And I Haven't Acted Like I Give A Shit

I had about 30 voicemail messages on my phone.  I don't know if this is true for you or not, but those voicemails have an expiration date of about a month.  I would have to access those voicemails and at least give a cursory listen or else they would be automatically deleted, forever.

I had the max, but one time I let that month period lapse without listening, or "renewing," to some of those messages, and they were gone forever.  After that mistake I resolved to be a lot more diligent in keeping them.  I admit that much of the reason is just OCD.  But the longer I keep renewing (although I had deleted a voicemail here and there and had planned on pruning some others), the more I got off on having voicemails that were one year, two years, three and four and, I think, five years old.

On top of that, the first four voicemails were very important to me.  The first one was from Enterprise Rent-A-Car, reminding me that the car I reserved for the family road trip out west was coming the next day.  The second came from my temp agency, preparing me that the flu biller place wanted me back in the fall, while I was working on a job downtown Minneapolis.  (These two were around the summer of ... I don't know?)  The third was just my sister asking me, "Where are you?"  I totally remember that I drove separately from my sister and cousin to the Walker Art Center to play mini-golf, and I parked far away because I didn't want to pay for it.  The fourth was from my usher friend.  It's been years since I listened all the way through it because, if I recall correctly, he broke the news that our usher friend died from complications from surgery.  I may have blog posted before about him; I felt really, really bad that for the months at the hospital, I never saw him.  I still regret it.  And I wanted to just keep that voicemail because, frankly, it's all I had to remember him.

Well ... this is a lame cop-out, but life happens.  And I let a month lapse.  I didn't think it had been more than a month.  But I was at work lunch, woke up from my nap, thought, "Hey, I should roll through my voicemails," called my number and heard, "Your mailbox is empty."  And then I looked through the last time I checked.  If I had only called earlier that week, maybe three days before I did, I would have been able to save them.  But I didn't.

So I thought about calling T-Mobile and telling them that the voicemails were important to me and maybe if I could get them back -- somehow.  But nah, that's impossible, and it's probably stupid to ask.  And then, well ... I forgot.  You see, this happened back in March.  And I planned on feeling sorry for myself by blog posting it.  But I waited, and then I forgot till now.  So, really, how much do I really care about this?

Well, now that I think through what the voicemails contained, I do really miss it now.  But, like renewing the VMs, it's way too late.  Can't really say I care about it if I didn't do a whole lot to save it or talk about it.  Right?

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

Positive Numbers: Gopher men's outdoor track and field (FIRST TIME EVER!!!)  I only put the outdoor T&F team in (I don't follow this sport beyond the Olympics, but most people don't) because of one student-athlete: Obsa Ali, who won the NCAA 3000-meter Steeplechase Friday at the University of Oregon, becoming the first runner in the program to win an NCAA event since Luca Wieland took the Indoor Heptathlon three years ago (why didn't I do a write-up about him?) and the 14th national champion in T&F in U. history.  Also, he's one of us; he hails from Richfield High School.  Congratulations, Obsa Ali!

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1).  OK, now I'm worried.  When the media is talking up how their homestand was a success when they only went 6-5, we have a problem.  (With sports media as well as the team, but that's another story.)  Moreover, since the Twinks suffered through a 3-4 screening week, where they split four games vs. an awful White Sox team and dropped two-of-three with the Shohei Ohtani-less Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim Angels of Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim Angels of …, I am now having big reservations that this team is able to turn it around.  The problem, at least right now, is the lineup, supposedly the strength of this team going into this season.  With the exception of Eddie Rosario, no one is hitting well and consistently.  And with Byron Buxton regressing at the plate, Miguel Sano still not back on track and Joe Mauer out due to yet another concussion, the cavalry might not be coming.

They now have to hit the road this week against the two best teams in their division.  Three against Detroit mid-week, then three versus Cleveland for the weekend.

(ETA an aside: Last week I speculated whether that was the first time I skipped over #0 to put in teams in Positive Numbers and -1.  And this week I'm doing it for the second week in a row.  Ha-ha, I guess.)

#-Infinity: Gopher baseball (Last Week: Positive Numbers).  Well, that sucked.  I was hopping into my car, trying to escape early from the Big Head Todd and the Monsters concert at the surreal, sublime Red Rock Amphitheatre.  (It was around 11 when I got to my car, I had to return my car by 4 a.m. and I knew if I stayed till the end [and I think I left with three or four songs left] I would be stuck trying to get out of the area for at least an hour, if not two, and I'd be aggravated so much my heart would explode.)  The rental I got automatically (at least I think; we'll see if I get a bill for it) satellite radio, and I had been listening to college baseball's Super Regionals on ESPNU all day.

I turned on the channel to the Golden Gophers' Game 2 game against Oregon St. at the top of the Ninth Inning with the score tied at 3.  There were two Outs, but the bases were loaded for the Beavers (since it's Game 2, the team hosting the Supe is the visiting team).  Lockdown Closer Max Meyer, who came in to pitch starting in the Sixth Inning, was on the mound … and he allowed a hit that scored two.  Game over, I knew it, and I flipped the channel to Sirius XM Chill.  Or Real Jazz.  One of the two.

They Beavs tacked on another one, so the Gophers got doubled-up in their last game of the year, 6-3.  And they got blown out in Friday's Game 1, 8-1, where Minnesota starter Reggie Meyer got shaken down for six Runs over six Innings (striking out only three) while Oregon St. #1 (and convicted sex offender) Luke Heimlich was lifted with one Out left in that game, striking out nine in the process.  (Oh, and he wasn't drafted last week.)

Yes, it is a buzzkill, getting swept, especially in such heartbreaking fashion in a close game that could have extended its season.  But hey, Oregon St. is a damn good squad.  And besides, I have never seen the Golden Gopher baseball program win a Regional or advance this far in the NCAA Tournament.  Hell, I didn't think this club could make it to the NCAA Tournament.  This is, simply put, the best team this program has had probably in the last four decades.  That ain't nothing.  Maybe they'll be this good again next year, maybe not; six very important players graduate.  But SS (and First-Team All-American) Terrin Vavra is a Junior (although he was drafted in the third round of the MLB Draft by the Colorado Rockies -- ironically, a team I saw lose in person while I was in Denver this weekend), and Meyer and starter Patrick Fredrickson (who was named Big Ten Pitcher Of The Year, and started [and struggled through] Game 2 before being replaced by Meyer) are both Freshmen.  Maybe things are looking up.  Good season, Gophs.

To Be On Our Best Behavior, For Two Weeks

So my relative is coming to visit tomorrow.  She, apparently, is Father's cousin.  I don't know the last time he's seen her, or if he ever has.  But she's here for two weeks.  Two weeks?!  Shit, I wouldn't visit this place for two weeks.  That's actually why I love living here.  Think about it: Is a place you love to visit for a week or two a place you really want to live?

I really don't mind seeing a member of the family.  But she's here for two weeks, and I know she'll get bored really quickly.  We have no idea what she likes, let alone think of enough things for her to see over two weeks.  We'll be struggling after, oh, Wednesday.

In the meantime we have to change everything because we have a guest.  Father mopped my bedroom floor after I got home today, even though I was dead tired and was going to plop on my bed immediately.  I put all my bathroom things in the closet.  I have to put my bath towel in my room the next two weeks.  I have to put up with another person's, uh, smells for two weeks.  I'm going to have to be on my best behavior -- talk, be ingratiating, invite her to things, be there for her ... you know, shit I don't know how to do.  Again, I don't mind seeing a relative.  But I have to rearrange my life and pretend to be someone I'm not for two weeks.  That's pretty fucking hard to do.

Finally, I can't masturbate for two weeks.  How in the hell am I going to survive?

And I'm Still Mad

I don't know what it is, but I'm seething with rage right now.  It's overwhelming.  And I don't know why.  I think it has to do with that fucking talk Mother gave me on the way to the airport.  Because of that, I am so goddamn anxious as to what awaits me.  I have no idea whether they've cleaned my room or moved out my stuff or what.  But that talk on the way to the airport made me feel incredibly unwelcome at home.  And after three days here in Denver, that hostility is what I return to.  And that makes me so fucking upset.

I don't see a future.  Can't be more specific than that.  But there's nothing to look forward to -- at home, with my folks, period.  And that makes me sad and scares me at the same time.

I'm Just So Fucking Pissed Right Now

I shouldn't be this keyed up, but I am.  I think I had a pretty successful day out.  Hit El Taco de Mexico, considered to be the place with the best green chile in town, for breakfast.  Then, after a nap, I hit the original Chipotle for lunch and was able to use the free burrito card given to me by the stripper who cleaned the house.  Then I had a pretty good hike to walk off all those calories, made it to the Rockies game on time, and then finished my night off seeing the hype behind Voodoo Doughnuts.

With all that, there were plenty of things that pissed me off.  Let me list them for you:

1. Eating Mexican followed by Chipotle did a number on my plumbing.  I had to shit, real bad -- once coming home from breakfast, once after the baseball game, and once trying to find my way home from Voodoo.  But the worst of it was at the hike.  I thought I was going to see the end of the trail when I felt this huge ... mass in my abdomen.  I knew I was going to blow shit all in my underwear if I didn't find a bathroom.  Luckily I was at the end of my hike and I reached a visitor's center's bathroom.  And then, after ten minutes, I had to use it again.  But that didn't stop my painful gas, which kept me uncomfortable, if not downright ornery, all day.
2. There was a huge line for the Coors brewery, which I wanted to knock off my list.  Probably will try and do that today, if I have time.
3. OK, the worst of all this.  My Rockies ticket was mobile, but on Stubhub it said that I could go to Rockies Customer Service to get my ticket printed off instead.  They did it ... at a price of $5.  Five goddamn dollars just to print a ticket?!?!  They had me over a barrel at that point, but fucking Christ, that is extortion.  I need to bitch at someone for that shit.
4. Oh, and I got lost, too.  It was OK in the afternoon, but coming home from Voodoo I was fucking lost.  And since I had this painful farting emanating from my colon, I started to panic whenever a gas attack came on.
5. One more: I'm leaving for home tomorrow.  It's going to be so fucking awkward after Mother supposedly called me out for yelling and having a temper.  Like I said: Where in the fuck does she think I get my yelling and temper from?  And I still don't have a job, either.
6. Yeah, I should add one more: For the first time, or at least since I can remember, a background check wasn't perfunctory.  I have my temp agency asking for more information about past jobs.  Seriously, didn't the background check uncover that?

Maybe I should just stay in bed today.