Fast forward.
Yeah, that was me. It’s hard to imagine that almost two years have gone by. A lot has changed and nothing has changed. Hence, me sitting here at midnight on a Sunday crafting a post for a blog that was supposed to have started a year ago. Hence, the continent of Australia (more on that sure to come) and that inconceivable creature, the horned frog. Hence, Las Vegas lines of credit and syndicated corporate loans. Hence, 4lokos and wine clubs. Hence, chatroulette and LinkedIn. Hence, the full circle.
We all ate brunch at Turning Point today. It’s becoming a Sunday tradition- kind of like the pancake breakfast, except more frequent. There’s great food, great company, and great, albeit older, scenery. While munching on my scrumptious pumpkin filled French toast with pecan infused coconut rum sauce, some names came up in conversation that brought back memories. I literally couldn’t help but smile. It was absurd. I was sitting there like an effing moron just grinning. (Picture the kid in Bad Santa after he hands the wooden cucumber to Billy Bob Thorton. That was me.) If only I knew what I know now back then. Damn signs (For those of you who are unfamiliar with them, signs are unequivocal indicators that what you want to happen will happen without you so much as opening your mouth and telling her how you feel. Awesome, right? THEY’RE NOT REAL, IDIOT.). At any rate, this smile just consumed me. I texted people that I hardly know. I called people and talked NASCAR (and the finer points of Butler University girls). I rode my bike to the Bagelry. Okay, that last one isn’t true. But the point is that I was…well, happy. And that’s when it hit me: someone must have slipped something into the pecan infused coconut rum sauce. Seriously though, I realized today that I finally get it. I might not fully appreciate it or even remotely be able to control it, but I sure as hell get it. Life. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it. Ahhhh. Breathe it in. Pure, unadulterated life (cue Ke$ha).
Almost like a sign (They’re not real. They’re not real. They’re not real.) reinforcing my revelation, I came home from purchasing my new Droid (sold to me by a 20-something year old named Millie. Yeah, I thought that was weird too.) to find my roommates chilling with this girl that just gets me. This girl just gets me. She doesn’t even know me, but she reads me like a book, plays me like a fiddle, beats me like an egg (I just made that one up, but I really like it.), and [insert appropriate simile here]. I’m not joking. A few months ago, I came home to a similar situation and found myself quickly engaged in a conversation about relationships. Almost immediately, said girl addresses me and says “You’re never satisfied, are you?” WTF. Really? Reallly? How am I supposed to respond to that? I can’t. She’s right. I’ve never had a serious relationship. I always find something wrong. It’s ludicrous. I’m certainly not perfect, but any girl I date damn well better be. Idiot. Anyway, she was here again tonight and the significance wasn’t lost on me: she gets me and now I kind of get me. Full circle.
So that’s it. That’s why I’m breaking the silence. How ya like dem apples?
-AOTW
