So ok, before I start pouring you all a cup of downer juice (now with REAL strawberrys!) I want to update our loyal readership (what's good Pem??) on a story I began to tell in an earlier blog.
Maybe [I'm mad] at the bartender last night for mixing my rum and cokes so strong that I woke up this morning an hour and a half late while still fully dressed in my clothes from the night before and later learned that I had to be dragged-- literally dragged-- out of the bar and have no recollection of my trip home. (Thanks to Pem and Kramez for the assist).Now why would I stop telling a story that began like that?? Well, because I wasn't cognizant for the remainder of it.
What Berbalerbs Thought Happened When He Returned Home: Went to sleep.
What Actually Happened Upon Berbalerbs's's Arrival Home: He saw his next door neighbor, chilled for a while, realized he had lost his fucking phone and then his neighbor kept calling it until a cabbie picked up and returned it (to which a plasteredfaceded Berbalerbs awarded by giving him $10). Then apparently B wanted a little more substance to the evening. The green substance that happens to have some side effects if you happen to light it on fire, to be exact. So let's just say we have "people" who are most helpful in situations such as these, and some...substance was attained. And apprently a LOT of it was consumed (I should pause here and let you know that besides it being fucking HILARIOUS that I did all of this whilst blacked out, this particular piece of news was glorious to hear, because I had been walking around all day mad at myself for "losing" $50). Then I insisted that I wanted to lay vocals for a song we'd been working on (hehe, "we'd," hehe) and obviously that was an epic FAIL. All in all, I apparently was up for like 2 more hours than I thought, made some purchases, tried to record something, and retrieved the phone that I wasn't aware that I lost.
Funny stuff right? Right. Now let's talk about how I got dumped last night, in a piece I'd like to call
Fuck You, Facebook Relationship Status. Fuck You Right in The Eye.
So I'm at my place, and I just finished hearing the hilarious antics of blacked-out me. I'm down in the kitchen getting some snacks. I'm happy the work day is over.
Then I get a text from my girlfriend.
hey can we talk?Eesh. Doesn't sound like great news. Called. Turns out, it wasn't great news.
Now I'm not going to go over the fine points of why it happened. I'm not really 100% sure why it did, and I'm not in the position nor the mood to speculate. The break-up was very much the "it's not you it's me," and I do appreciate that she did it as opposed to letting it drag on when she wasn't into it. Still, it sucks pretty fucking bad.
So I'm trying my best to process this whole thing (kinda came out of nowhere...either that or I have to step my "noticing the obvious" game up), and it something occurs to me.
A chill shoots up my spine.
Meer days before, I did something that I will never ever do again ever in my life ever again ever in my life ever again ever. Ever. Never. Ever. Again in my life. Ever.
In my life
I changed my fucking Facebook Relationship Status to "In a Relationship."
In my life. Again. Ever.
There is a new line of thinking in this "Web 2.0" world, that nothing, NOTHING is a more official indicator of the level of seriousness of an individual's social status than the fucking Facebook Relationsip Status. I mean, you must be really fucking serious to click on that little pencil icon near your personal information and choose an option from a drop-down menu on a social networking website usually used for "Pimp Fighting" friends and family.
We (girl and I) had been exclusive and pretty serious for a while (not terribly long, we had dated for 3 or 4 months and been really serious for like 6 weeks or something), but I had waited to "make the big move" (aka change my relationship status on facebook) in fear that I would change the status, and then something would happen and then I'd look like a big loser-faced loser because I had to change it right back. Phew, glad that didn't happen!
The reason for my trepidation? Well, this has happened to me before. Fairly recently actually. With the last girl I was in a relationship with. I think I'll look back at 2008 as the year "Love Took a Steaming Dump On My Face." The last one was a whole other set of circumstances (and thank GOD-fully I didn't change my status last time), but long story short, literally a day after I finally got the balls to be straight with this girl and tell her I cared about her and wanted to be exclusive and wanted to be her boyfriend (which she seemed very happy about), she avoided my calls for a week and finally called me and dumped me.
Now that SUCKED. But at least it wasn't presented neatly to all of my friends, co-workers, acquaintances, some total strangers, and a few camera-phone whores who want 10,000 friends by 2009. At least it wasn't the 800 lb. gorilla in the room to basically EVERYONE I KNOW.
Maybe that's why it's seen as such an official thing. This is how we communicate anymore. I have friends who won't answer a phone call, but when I follow up with a text, they hit me back immediately. I have friends who won't answer any method of phone communication but will respond to a Facebook message within 10 minutes of my sending it. I guess what I'm really trying to say here is: I have friends (REGARDLESS OF WHAT YOU HEAR FROM PEM! THAT GUYS A DOUCHE!).
So I did it. I just got rid of the whole "Relationship Status," and I guess I'm wondering why I ever decided to show it in the first place. Maybe it's because 2008 really hasn't been a bad year for me at all, and for most of it I was available, and maybe I just wanted all those camera-phone whores to know I was available.
Well, thanks for letting me waste your time. I'll try and find a story about someone hitting someone else with a dildo or a good video of a nut-shot before the days end.