I texted her this morning to make sure we were still on for that afternoon. She lived near town, so I knew it would be a semi-long drive. I had a long talk with my ex yesterday and I wasn’t looking to impress this girl anymore, so I skipped the shower. She’ll just have to take me for what I am, I thought. No matter what, I’m sure I’m ten times better than any boy her own age.

As of this morning, the plan was to drive to her place and pick her up around 11. I ended up overshooting how long it would take, so I got to her side of town about 10:20. I stopped by a Walgreens to pick up a pack of cigarettes and kill some time. At 10:35, I sent her a text asking if it would be cool to go get her or if it was still too soon. After another ten minutes of pacing, she replied and said, “I’m probably going to sleep another hour or so.”

You’re fucking kidding, right? I’m supposed to pick you up in half an hour, and you’re gonna tell me you’re still sleeping? I was tempted at that moment to hightail it back home, but I calmed down and smoked my first cigarette of the day. I guess she must have got her lazy ass up earlier than she thought she would because she texted me at 11 and said she was almost ready, but I could come whenever I wanted. I did. I took my time getting there and finally arrived at 11:20.

Note: I agreed to this date sight unseen. I’d only seen pictures. In her pictures, she was cute, and I never thought this would be anything other than a “what you see is what you get” type situation. It never crossed my mind that I was being deceived. We’d spent a week straight just texting each other, but I never really thought about it. As I saw her walking to my car, I discovered I was making a big mistake.

First of all, this girl was about 30 pounds heavier than I’d imagined. I even caught myself with my mouth open, I was so in shock. She smiled and in my mind I thought, “Fuck fuck fuck.” She gets in. My car squeaks. I’m terrified.

Also (and I hate to say this), I noticed her shoes were old, her blouse was dingy, and her hair looked like she hadn’t washed it in a few days. There was a slight sour tinge as she sat down and started moving around. She was dirt poor. I mean, I don’t care about these things, but when I’m looking for someone I might have a romantic interest in, bad hygiene just isn’t going to work for me.

We’d come to the conclusion that the best way to communicate would be for me to carry around a dry erase board. I wasn’t sure how uncomfortable it would be for her, but it seemed to work later. However, while driving, I couldn’t very well reply to her in writing. I was driving. And I think she kept forgetting this as she asked me questions while I was trying to figure out how the fastest way to get to Discovery Green. To make it less awkward, I handed her my iPhone and gestured for her to pick a song or something. She picked Paramore. I wanted to kill myself.

At Discovery Green, she kept asking me the most inane questions. Somehow, she confessed to me that she regularly stole things from gift shops. I told her I once stole Ramen from Walmart during my college days. Then she had a bright idea – “Let’s go to Walmart!”

Somehow our Discovery Green playdate turned into “Let’s go to the trashiest place in the world.” The closest one wasn’t even that close. When we got there, she walked ahead of me, then quickly turned to tell me that she was going to go look at some pants. Great! Now I’m all alone in Walmart. I start looking at PS3 games and grab Split/Second on a whim. For a full 2 minutes or so, I was tempted to just leave her ass there. It’s not like she knew where I lived. The worst she could do was blow up my phone. I decided against it, went back to my car, and smoked through about 7 more cigarettes before she texted me. “Waiting around for you! Where are you?” She finally gets outside and tells me I’m “gross” for smoking. I wanted to tell her to take a bath.

At this time, it’s around 3 o’clock, and I’m starving, but I’ve already decided that I’m not spending much money on a fancy dinner was this kid, so I start driving her home, hoping she wouldn’t say she’s hungry. Too late. The hippo decided for me that we were going to Taco Cabana.

Look, I enjoy Taco Cabana in small doses, but anything bigger than a taco gives me indigestion like crazy. Consensus says this happens to a LOT of people. Something about chain Tex Mex food. We order via drive-thru, and Barely McLegal orders 3 bean and cheese burritos, nachos with extra salsa, and a large coke. I just get an iced tea. She calls me anorexic. In my head, I call her a fat pig. For most of the night, I’m eyeballing her and wondering how in the FUCK this is the same person as the girl in the pictures. It baffles my mind. I mean, I see it from angles, but she was much easier on the eyes in her pictures than in real life. I was severely disappointed.

At some point, I get her back to her house. She asks me if I wanna come in and watch Aladdin (what the fuck, amirite?), and I politely decline. I was going to walk her to her front porch but before I could, I get this awkward handshake and a “Well, I had fun tonight.” She left so quickly I hardly had any time to think about what had happened.

Here’s the rub: she hit the jackpot with me. I’m tall with rugged good looks. I’m pretty much the full package (I’m exaggerating, but you get the point). I feel like an asshole for immediately shutting her down, but I probably could have been much worse. I could have made a U-turn and went back home when I saw her house or even when she blew me off to sleep. I could have left her at Walmart after she was openly rude and went to go shopping (now that I think about it, I think I dropped her off with newer pants than when I picked her up). But I didn’t. I don’t have the heart. I don’t have it in me to tell someone I’m not interested. I feel like her “great” personality was a trap to make me feel guilty so I wouldn’t drop her after seeing her. Don’t worry – my expectations aren’t too high. I’m a realistic man. I just wasn’t prepared for Allison from “The Breakfast Club.”

So it’s time to up my standards. I haven’t dated someone her age since I was 22-ish, but now the age difference is much greater, and it shows. I was willing to get past the no-transportation thing, but girls with no ambition, no job, and no plans to attend college so they can design a graphic novel~ have no place in my life.

That’ll teach me to chase after younger girls. Are you happy now, Booba?

In Houston, I have friends too, but there are much less. I don’t have random associates and acquaintances like I did back in the day. The people I know I think are actually my friends, not just people who have me around to benefit themselves. They’ve been much more supportive about my drug problem, about my personal issues than anyone else I’ve ever known in my life. They don’t encourage or egg on my bad behavior. They’re very supportive and push me to do the right thing. Back in Florida, I had a lot of enablers. Sadly, it makes me associate Florida with bad people and makes me not want to go back. I’m sorry, Floridians. It’s not all of you. But some of you know what group of people I’m talking about.

In other news, a giant chunk of me is hoping for some intense weather to blow through here so I can get out of taking this Eco class. If half of the work is done at home and all he does it lecture out of the book, why do I need to be there 8 hours a week? It’s killing my social life, dammit. Not to mention it’s been flooding all week, and I’ve had to find alternate routes so I won’t destroy my car. Driving through downtown with a bazillion one-way streets is a giant puzzle and a pain in the ass.

There’s a girl in my class who tries to talk to me about how much she dislikes the teacher, and how she’s OCD about bad grammar (I think she honestly thinks she’s OCD like everyone else who describes how much they hate certain things with a passion) and how the teacher has several grammar mistakes in his notes. He’s a tiny Indian guy. Who cares? It’s not an English class. You get the point of the lectures, right? You understand the terms, right? Get over it, and stop being so fucking angry for no reason. I seriously cannot stand people like this. He’s a good teacher. I feel sorry for her boyfriend.

Still crossing my fingers for bad weather.

Back to work tomorrow. School begins hardcore for a full month. I get to be irritated and ignore everyone I know for 30 days. Many will thank me for that (I’m being facetious).

I think a girl at work has a crush on me. She told me my inability to speak is endearing. I think she just loves being the only one having a conversation.

Melissa is dying. I remember she and my mom were friends back in high school, and they both had kids around the same time. Some of my earliest memories were of being at her house, her cooking some Cajun food, me playing with Sport and his little brother and sister. I remember a Steve Urkel doll we hid in the closet because it was obnoxious. I remember staying up until 5 in the morning because no one told us we couldn’t. I remember one Christmas my dad refused to get us Halloween costumes, so Melissa made us ghosts out of sheets and sent us on our way. I also remember my mom telling me she was certain that my father had fucked around with her, and they both were hiding it. I was never certain what to think of her.

Now I hear she has liver cirrhosis. She wasn’t an alcoholic, per se. But she was diabetic, had hepatitis, and didn’t take good care of herself. For a while, she was addicted to painkillers so she put her liver through hell. My aunt told me the doctors said she won’t live until the end of this year. She’s 46.

It’s depressing for anyone to die so young, I don’t care who they are. Sometimes I have my days where I don’t give a fuck about a lot of things, but I don’t want to think that all of those bad days will ultimately add up to me dying before the age of 50. Her kids don’t care about her. Her family is all gone. She’s determined to just die at this point.

I hear she’s selling her house to move up north to live out her days. That’s how bad it is already. I couldn’t bring myself to see her, no matter how much I liked her when I was younger. Does that make me an asshole?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=yp1Lg1rmMII

Last week, I had dinner with my aunt to discuss the possibility of spending some time with my girl, but after being strung along for twenty minutes, I was shut down and told to stay away. How’s a man supposed to react to something like that? Leave. And leave with some dignity. Lord knows how difficult that was.

So I drove home, parked my car in my driveway, and cried. I cried because I was frustrated, I cried because I was hurt. I just wanted the opportunity to see her, and I was told No. I was also told that I needed to learn to not be selfish, and if I ever wanted things to change, I would have to stop choosing drugs/girls/everyone else over my own child. I never thought that’s what I was doing, especially since I only ever devoted all my time and attention to my kid when she was around. I guess my aunt’s word is law. I have nothing until she says otherwise.

To fill the gap, I’m getting another cat. I’m sure I’ll regret it.

Before I hear anything about double standards, wah wah wah Sean Penn and Charlie Sheen can get away with it, blah blah blah, save it. Those guys can take turns sucking my cock too. Chris Brown is no goddamn exception. I’ve always had an irritational hatred for him, but it seemed to be justified after he choked his girlfriend and left bitemarks on her.

Chris Brown is not talented. Are you guys fucking serious? His dancing is sloppy and all over the place. His singing, dear God, don’t get me started on his singing. His songs are so fucking generic, which is exactly why he’s been booted out of mainstream radio and replaced with other generic pop/R&B singers like Jason Derulo, who my aunt is convinced IS Chris Brown.

Chris Brown is not good-looking. And maybe looks are subjective, so we’ll ignore his protruding teeth and disgusting hairline, but how would his looks excuse him from beating up on a girl like she’s got even half the strength of him? Seriously? You gonna let a fucking man put his hands on you because he’s got money and looks? Girls, if you wanna fight so damn badly, let it be a fair fight. Fight a bitch your own size. Don’t be so fucking pathetic.

People make mistakes, sure. But sometimes, when people make mistakes, they’re sincerely remorseful about them. This motherfucker struts around with a permanent smirk and a chip on his shoulder, and he thinks he can pull the wool over everyone’s eyes, make an MJ tribute all about him, and think we’re all gonna be, “Poor baby! He’s so sincere! He’s crying! All is forgiven!”? No, sir. Not everyone. There’s a group of people who are willing to forgive, probably because they think that abuse is sometimes justified, but I won’t specifically say who this “group of people” is because if you’re educated enough, you can deduce just by searching for “Chris Brown” on Twitter.

So you too can suck my dick, Chris Brown. Disappear, come back as a beautiful butterfly, then die.

Most hilarious shit ever. Well, almost ever.

For a long time, oldies and Tejano brought me some good memories. I stopped listening to Tejano once I had a choice, and I never looked back. A month or two back though, my aunt took me with her and her family to San Antonio, and on our way back, we station-surfed between towns after we got tired of listening to Fergie on repeat. All we could find was Tejano, so she said, “Let’s just listen to this.” I think we both sat in silence for fifteen minutes or so before I heard her in the driver’s seat sniffling. It was such a surreal feeling – she and I both had our own memories of this kind of music after not listening to it in so long. And all she said was, “I miss everyone.”

My heart hurt. I was sitting in the passenger seat remembering cheap cakes, piñatas, and loud music, how young everyone was, when the adults would get drunk and start dancing with each other, and my aunt was remembering the same things from when she was a kid. She started telling me about how her uncle Faustino (who just died last year) would bring his accordion that he couldn’t even play, get plastered, jump on the table and play/lipsynch to whatever song was on. When she said it, she laughed. I reached over and wiped her right eye. She looked at me and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t wreck.”‘

She’s been buying me these CDs I only recently started listening to. It’s bittersweet. I smile through some songs, and I feel my chest tighten through others. But memories are memories, and I need them right now. I forget more and more with every day that passes, and I’m afraid that one day I won’t remember what my mom smelled like, or how she laughed at my cheesy jokes just to be polite.