So ya, I would venture to say that things have shapened up a bit from the last entry.  People came and went, but there are a few that are shining really bright and promising in my eyes and for that I am thankful.  Spring break seemed to be a break in the cycle of time off of school, for the most part.  Granted, I got upset the first night at something I read to far into while intoxicated, but that situation has since remedied itself.  Then I got laid off of my job because contrary to what everyone thought about the financial security of gamefrog, the shit tanked, or at least Randy's stake did.  Seriously, fuck that guy.
     Anyway, things have been better, but weird.  I'm still stressing over the same one issue, but for now im just trying to go along with it all.  I've talked some things out with the one person I think can make it work just to find out that if it is going to work, it's not going to for now.  Understandable.  There are a number of factors that separate us a bit, but I'm willing to try and overcome them.  For now though, it's the waiting game.
      Right after that the one that's been bugging me pops up for a smoke break.  Now my question is this: is this a sign or simply a coincidence?  I guess I'll never know.

     So this weekend seemed promising.  Most of it was spent intoxicated, but I thought I had a pretty good place of where all the pieces fell and how I had hoped things would work out.  That first morning, Saturday morning, I was struck with a revelation.  I had a dream: my father died and the only one to console me was someone that might not have been who I thought would do so.  No real great friends.  Just one girl, one that has sunken in the back of my mind since she basically disappeared after Christmas break. 
     That's when things started to go haywire and collective reality failed me.  To me it not only signaled a remembrance of something buried deep inside, but also the falling apart of something I deemed as stable, unwavering.  Before this, I was going from constant to constant but now everything and everyone's a variable.  There's no way I can rationalize putting all my faith into one person or event with the vein hope that they will do the same.   I can only shop around for now and wait for the tricky part when I do find that one constant, and put all my faith in them.  It's so hard for me to grasp that people move on or never cared in the first place.
     It's made even worse by the fact that the most definite constants in my life have given me shit in trying, all the while holding a double standard between me and them.  I'm not so mad as I am frustrated and please try to understand before judging me and if you do decide to judge me, stand in the mirror and judge yourself.
     I did a very cathartic thing tonight.  On the eve of history in so many ways, I stood out on top of the Dan Allen deck in the middle of the windy snow and sang.  One of the only songs about optimism and hope among the strongest misfortunes a heart can handle.  You never question why or how, you ignore the smoke, and smile.  Hopefully I can start to put things in order, all the while trying to get past what bothered me so much this weekend.  If they come back, so be it.  If they don't, so be it.  As for that one girl, I think she holds something special and I need to run into her at some point.

     Break, for me, can end up one of two ways : fantastic or horrible.  This break is leaning toward the latter...up there with Thanksgiving and now fall break.  So, in hindsight, let me change the first statement.  Break can end only one way: horribly.
     I can spend hours going over the myriad of reasons this break sucked, but that would take awhile, so I'll sum it up.  An extra week in Raleigh for work sound fun?  No bueno.  Sounds fun getting shitfaced and hitting on girls at a friends house, doesn't it?  Well, actually, that is pretty fun until you come home puking on the floor and everything that has a drain in your bathroom.  Merry Christmas with the family?  Wrong.  The moment any family gets together it's a shit storm waiting to happen.  What the hell is with high schoolers talking shit about me over facebook?  I don't even understand that in the least.
     Ok, I'm going to digress on this subject because it really got to me.  So I'm chillin' out on Christmas night, just coming in from a cigarette.  I reload facebook because I like to be up to date on what my friends are doing (yes, friends.  Though I'll be honest, I do lurk some times.  Just not the night in question.) to find that the goat wrestler has indeed not forgotten about me, but on the contrary, is shit talking the redneck state of my status on her other Tabor friend's wall.  The most ironic thing was her comment about me "not seeing this" because I would think she was "facebook stalking him (me) and things could get crazy again."  Holy fucking ironic shit Batman.  I'M FRIENDS OF BOTH OF YOU, GENIUS ON WHEELS!!  HOW WOULD I NOT SEE YOUR FUCKING POST (particularly if it winds up on newsfeed, Sherlock).  Correct me if I'm wrong but to avoid controversary, wouldn't you just avoid it all together and definitely not instigate anything?  Way to go on that one.  But back on the fuck up wagon.
      Wanting to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button?  Go for it...as long as you're not going to see it with a girl you have a history with, but can now only see you as a mere acquaintance to talk to.  Have a fake ID and want a drink at the Bowling Alley?  Don't try it: the guy working the bar (not a real bartender, remember, it's a Bowling Alley we're talking about) will rifle through your card credits and shit in your wallet if he doesn't think it's legit.  I wanted one god damned corona after a hard week, doucheface.  And the cherry on my mudbutt pie?
     Let's just say the one being with a vagina that I could trust (and have trusted continuously since Junior Year) just shit on my dreams of ever being with someone I love.  When you don't try and argue against how I think you lied to me, I take that as an admittance of guilt.  Getting over someone you love once is painful, twice, impossible.  I really need to stop making people priorities when I'm second class in their eyes.  It's funny how one or two can ruin the rep. of all women in my eyes.
      So that's the last week or so in a nutshell.  I'm not looking forward to the next few days.  The oddest thing is how I can find some happiness in the mundaneness of school and work.

    For as long as I've been driving, I've run into 0 trouble with the law.  But today was a different story.  I'll admit, it didn't start out as the best of days, hell, it was a shitty day.  I apparently hadn't gone to work on Sunday leaving the store closed all day and thus endangering my job, but that's another story altogether.
    I was leaving my sister's in Knightdale after talking to her and dealing with an extremely drunk brother in law.  To get back to Raleigh I usually take 64 until it turns into New Bern Ave, so I can get back to UT in less than half an hour.  I planned on getting gas and cigarettes at Sheetz, right after where 64 gets less rural.  Blazing down 64 at a good pace of at least 65, my radar detector gave me no more than 2 seconds of warning before I passed him - a state trooper chilling with his lights off in front of a billboard advertisement for radar detectors (irony is an utter bitch).  To make matters worse, I saw as he turned his headlights on and did a stark U-turn to follow (almost kiss my ass) for a good half mile before I thought I could pull into Sheetz safely, letting him go as quickly as he came.
    Alas, the new strobes on top of the next generation police interceptors started blazing.  If you can't think of a single mental image that will make you shit your pants faster than you can realize what's happening, this is it.  I did everything I read about how to get out of a ticket (or at the very least get it lowered): pull into a well lit area, turn off the engine and radio, roll down the window all the way, and stay buckled with hands on the wheel until the officer initiates conversation.  The officer, TRP. Holmes (a well-built, intimidating man), was polite, and though I don't agree entirely with traffic laws, he gave me the benefit of the doubt.  After the shortest exchange of my life (literally only a few words) he asked for my license, I obliged, and as he walked back and sat in his cruiser I thought about how royally fucked over I was going to be. 
    When he returned, I think he realized how scared I actually was and after considering my age, put everything incredibly straight forward.  "This is your ticket, it explains all the conditions of what happened and what you are being charged with.  Now, you don't have to appear in court - you can waive your hearing, detach and return the lower part of this form to pay the fine and have it be over with.  However, considering your clean record, I recommend that you appear in court.  They don't like me saying much else so, that's just what I suggest.  You have a good night; drive safely."
    That was it.  No aggressive or unruly tactics.  No checking to see if I was intoxicated.  No requests to search the vehicle.  After getting what I had come to Sheetz for and calling my sister to tell her, I took the time to read the ticket.  Not only had Trooper Holmes recommended my best course of action, he also lowered my speed to the dead limit for a simple speeding charge; no reckless driving charge or anything.  And for that, I thank you Trooper Holmes.
    I don't know how I'm going to end up handling this though.  I've spent the last 2 hours researching the best course of action.  I may just take Holmes' advice and take it to court on the off chance that I can plead to a lesser penalty or that he doesn't even show up.  On the other hand, my court date is on an exam day and I may have to work around that.  That doesn't even begin to help the hell that is about to rain down upon me from my mother...
    Advice, anyone?
 

    So I'm starting a paper based on the divine law and it's explanation in both Ovid's Metamorphoses and Dante's Inferno.  According to Ovid, men once lived in harmony with each other and nature, much like the Bible's Garden Story, but through the ages men degenerated to violence and vice. All men were punished.  Whether it be by the flood of Jove or through the 9 layers of Dante's hell.
    And if you haven't guessed it yet, I'm back to the curse I so often talk about.  Apparently I'm not trusted in certain groups of people.  Why?  I don't know.  It doesn't bother me so much that I'm not trusted in their circle.  What bothers me is that this circle has influence to those I do care about.  If I didn't fear for my own future, I would do anything out of vengeance.
    And now it begs the question: what did I do to deserve this?  And more puzzling than anything, what layer of hell am I in?  Pick or choose.  Gluttony for wanting too much?  Avarice for wanting what I can't have?  Lust for wanting "love"?  Wrath for wanting to do anything to anyone to get it back?  Or the deepest, coldest layer of hell...for somehow betraying a friend along the way?
    It seems that the deserving victims have turned their punishment on me.  Every one of you has your own spot.  And you all have a special spot on Satan's face.  After all, I thought I was your "friend."