WAS Playing: "Today Was A Good Day"
NOW Playing: "Trying To Find A Balance"

Y'know, I was rolling like a stone. My favorite convention in town, working my favorite position in the Human Swiss Army knife, producing an excellent day of development and freebies.

But they won't let me have too much fun.

Three sentences is roughly how long it took my mom to completely shit all over everything. I should mention now if I'm living here New Year's Eve and someone's not on death's door I fully advocate you coming out to the 619 and shooting me in the goddamn face. You apply pressure to me to go to school, and I'm going, even though it's costing me triple figures, hours off of my day, and fun things like next week's wake up at crack of dawn go to school get to work come home sleep wake up at crack of dawn go to school get to work. You're obviously mine-stripping my room like this is Room Raiders because the only Maxims I have are under my television. "I could go to jail" I'M HERE NOW. Jesus Tap Dancing Fucking Christ Screaming OW THAT HURTS on the cross. And hey, since you've been off all day how about getting off the computer and out of my room so I can at least set my stuff down and change? THREE DAYS, the Voices are screaming. THREE FUCKING DAYS.

Well, let me get to what was good now that it got chop blocked to shit. Action--they of the aforementioned Best Convention Ever reigning champions of the world--brought the goodness. Staring at hot girls for 6 hours. One of them's getting me one of those Kutcher hats that says You Funken [heart] Me tomorrow. Liked what she saw, dug my action. (No pun intended.) Literally bumped into a guy coming back from break at the pretzel stand with a retro Franco Harris, asked him where he got it. Turns out he's a throwback owner, and FH was going for $160 instead of the $250 retail. And and and I ran into two Japanese girls in Catholic schoolgirl outfits who'd dubbed themselves O-Ren Iishi and Go-Go Yubari.

The fact these reminisences aren't making me happier is, you guessed it, pissing me off even more. "King Of Wishful Thinking"? More like Emperor Of Irony.

So I better bring out the biggest light and cast out the non-hair-rock darkness.

Anyway, I guess in the interests of Keepin It Real the girl's name at work is Cristal, and I'm falling further in every time. She tutors kids bilingually, and she's really nice and has a great giggle but she's not spineless. She has many of the qualities I've been looking for, less the Alba resemblance.

Anyway after rolling through the shift and seeing another one in the offing tomorrow (ha ha you're off the one Sunday there are no playoff games all right fine it wasn't flawless) I'm out the door. And I'm debating whether or not I want to come home or go see if these wild and crazy youngsters are turning the mother out, as they say. Sure I was just there yesterday smoking hookah, going to Hustler and playing pool but they won't be back until September. But Nate's coming to town tomorrow--maybe Monday or Sunday night--so I decide on holding off.

Cristal shows up as I get to the door and asks me if I take the trolley. After I answer affirmatively she says to wait for her and she'll come along with.

Hooooooooooooooooly fuck.

Now I'm borderline giddy. So I help her fill out her timesheet and my friend Logan--he who hath cockblocked me last week this time from Cristal--gives me a quick raised eyebrow. I know what he means exactly. We're right next to each other, both poring over the same little spreadsheet. And yet it looked at least in my mind's overseeing eye like it was a coupley thing. We start going in on the Office Space jokes and leave together, which really looked coupley. I start talking about how to navigate the trolley for maximum effectivity. We get off together (NOT LIKE THAT you dirty, dirty bastards) and pop in a mom and pop since we just miss one. I get into my peanut butter cup addiction, and she buys a couple of cookies.

Now I know we look like a couple, because as I leave I get hassled for not paying for her cookies.

She's 27, which surprised the hell out of me. I look younger than I am too so that's another commonality. I mention Buffy & The Simps & Philosophy and am loaning them to her tomorrow. She mentions "The Stranger" by Albert Camus which by the time I recognize I have read it back in HS and just forgotten about it is telling this story of how a perky woman injected herself into a grumpy man's life and became his girl.

Art, life. Life, art. Oh, you guys know each other already? Huh.

I sat there staring at where she left and before I knew it I was singing "Moses".

Congratulations, Laura. Welcome to the top 5. You're #1. With a bullet.

And then three sentences later...

This is some real could-only-happen-to-me shit happening, here, boy. Did I mention?

Currently playing: Flickerstick's "Fade Into You" cover, live