My First Trip

It was the last thing on my mind that night. All I wanted to do when I got home from work was relax on my couch. I had no intention of going to see a show on a Wednesday night. But when the girl who you’re crushing on ask if you want to go out with her you bet your ass I say yes to her. I can be easily persuaded. Her company was all I wanted and live music was just a bonus.

I had no intentions of getting as wild as I normally would at a show… It was still Wednesday night. Then she asked me one simple question, “Do you wanna do a tab?”

“Oh no not tonight” reminding myself that it’s still a Wednesday night. I wanted to say yes, but knew I should say no. She could see me contemplating it in my eyes. Which was exactly when she gave me her puppy dog eye’s back to me and asked me again if I wanted to go on a trip with her, and I couldn’t help but to say yes.

There we were in the back of an Uber, on our way to see Willow at her concert, with a piece of paper under our tongues dissolving for the entire car ride to the show. Once we arrived we swallowed what was left and headed inside. I felt fine initially while we were inside, but when the first act came on and they dimmed the lights and the music started blasting through the speakers, I realized we were there together. We were rolling together, she was surrounded by my arms in front of me, smiling just as goofy as I was just to simply be there together dancing.

It was a feeling I have never experienced before. I felt lighter, I was there in the moment appreciating every little light and smile that was at the concert. I was dancing with my hips on the girl I was crushing on, following her rhythm to whatever song whoever was playing.

I was lost in her essence, I was hypnotized by the stage lights, and couldn’t contain how gitty she made me feel. The entire night it felt like it was just her and I and whoever was on stage was playing for us. We were lost in the moment together without a care in the world. Proving again that when you’re having fun time flies. It felt like the quickest concert I’ve ever been to. Before we knew it it was over but we weren’t ready to call it quits.

In a way of refusing to let our night end so abruptly, we walked for twenty minutes together under the city lights back to our neighborhood. It was the most beautiful walk I’ve ever had. The way the city shined on her face seemed to enhance every aspect of beauty. Her smile sent chills down my spine that made me shiver. The way she was smiling back at me I couldn’t help but stare. The way she was grabbing my hand there was no way I was ever letting this go. Together we got lost in the clouds. It felt like we messed around and wondered our way onto this euphoria together.

We got back to her place and that was when I realized I haven’t just been tripping out with her but I’ve been tripping out from her all night long. I had been to her place before but tonight was different. Walking in there that night with her was like we were walking into our own little nirvana. It was just her and I and it seemed like the rest of the world was non-existent to us. We got lost with each other.

Everything that night back at her place was perfect. Neither one of us rushed our hands, our lips kissed gently, and our hands touched each other’s skin only softly. Our kiss ignited this flame inside of us. Neither one of us could take our hands off of each other. That night we got tangled in the sheets lost in the sixth dimension.

The whole night was perfect. Never have I ever been any higher in my life. We connected together on a deeper level than we already were on and in a way I never have before. Maybe it was just my first trip with that something real.

Green Lights

A few months ago I drastically changed my mind set. Instead of continuously reminding myself and accepting the fact that I had bad luck and would never catch a break, I started thinking optimistically, regardless of how my days go. When my day hits a speed bump, or is thrown a curveball, I don’t curse the world and complain about how much things suck like I used to. I’ve been practicing taking a deep breath and only worry about the things I can control.

I’ve only recently been able to ignore the little things that normally set me off and treat them like it aint no thing. I don’t fall into a dark hole when things don’t work out with someone I liked or when I get the shit end of the stick. I started forcing myself to accept the things I can’t control and enjoy everything else that I can. I’ve learned that all I can ever give to anyone or anything is my best and purest intentions, everything else is out of my control.

It has been the only difference I’ve made in my life and it’s made all the difference in the world with my life. I’ve found myself smiling bigger than I ever have before for a million different reasons rather than finding one reason to hate the world. I’m surrounded by family and friends that love me for the person I am today. I have a roof over my head and can afford to feed myself dinner each night. If I can do all that on my own, what the hell do I have to be upset about.

I have people in my corner that help me realize things don’t suck, I don’t have the worst luck in the world, it’s only just a bad couple of minutes. It’s bad luck and negativity I’ve been attracting to my life. Since I’ve made the change I feel like I’ve grown substantially as a man. I have people that love me and someone I can spend each and every night with. I have no complaints. The only thing that has changed has been the way I choose to see things, and that’s made all the difference in the world for me.

Bank Account Roulette

I have this terrible game I play called, “Check your bank account Sunday.” It’s wicked fun to play from payday up until Sunday when you have to see the damage the weekend cost you. Those three nights after Thursday’s pay day are nights I keep swiping my card, enjoying myself, oblivious to all the money I’m spending.

Then Sunday comes around, like a day where I actually have to pay for something that’s a necessity, like food shopping, is when I check my bank account. I wasted the whole weekend swiping my card for three nights, I only hope to wake up on Sunday mornings with enough money in my account for me to put food on my plate.

Each week when I play the “Check your bank account Sunday” game it’s bad. I have no idea how I’m able to keep a roof over my head with the way I go out on the weekends. It’s at the point now where I tell myself that if I don’t ever check my bank account, then I won’t ever run out of money. It’s like one of those out of sight out of mind things where I won’t ever know how bad it is in my bank account. I’d just never check it. I’d be naive to the damage I was doing and kept swiping my card.

This game I play is exactly why I’ve hated Sundays. I’d be so disappointed in myself with how much money I’ve squandered on the weekends, I had to find a way to avoid the Sunday scaries. I hated this game I created. All of a sudden it clicked, forget about “Check your bank account Sunday’s”, the only day I ever truly needed to check my bank account was on payday.

It never mattered how much I would spend or overspend from week to week. I was still getting paid each week, whatever I spent or over spent over the past week was completely washed away on Thursday when I got paid again. Just to do it all again next week. As long as I don’t go out spending a stack each weekend I’ll be able to stay afloat, pay my bills, and no longer have to play “Check your bank account Sunday.”

I get paid on Thursday. It’s all good.

Kids Of America

I love Charlotte. It’s a drastically different world than the one I knew back home. Since I’ve been down here I’ve been living la vida loca. I spend my weekends making all the wrong decisions, staying up until the sun rises, and sleeping less on the weekends than I do during a work week. Down here, I’ve been able to do whatever I want whenever I want and I love it.

I’ve been eating ice cream for dinner and having way too much sugar at night keeping me awake all night long. One thing I’ve been down here is that there are no parents. Like parents are nowhere to be found. If you see a set of parents out, typically they’re only visiting their kids, they don’t live here. Us kids, we ran this city. Just like in the Jimmy Neutron movie. It’s like total anarchy down here.

It’s like heaven for kids down here, there’s a bar at every corner, breweries on each block, and restaurants scattered everywhere in between. We make the rules down here. It’s our world, they’ve had their time, but down here, it’s our time. For three years now I’ve been living on my time. I’ve had no one to tell me right from wrong, I’ve had no one to disincline me, and I’ve been having the time of my life. I love it down here.

I can walk up the down escalator, I can wear clothes that don’t match, and hang my underwear from the flagpole. There’s no parents… I can do whatever I want.

I’m Never Calling Him Again

I had just worked, twelve straight days and was restless for a day to forget about work and finally enjoy myself. I had no plans but to keep my Crocs on my feet, slug a few brewskis, and unwind with some R and R. Work kicked my ass that week and I was going to enjoy this weekend by having to wake up to my alarm clock for two days.

When I got home I called my guy and asked him to hook me up with everything I need to have a wild Saturday night. I went out that night, met up with some friends, and danced until my shoes fell off. I left the bar covered in sweat from busting way too many moves out there on the dance floor that night.

My friend and I got back to my place around 3:00 in the morning. A perfect time to cook pancakes if you ask me. We were up together until the sun came up that Sunday morning. We figured the morning Sun was as good a sign as ever to get to bed in hopes to get some sleep before the work week starts again.

We damn near slept through the next day. It wasn’t until maybe 2:30 that afternoon we finally woke up to my phone ringing off the hook. My phone never rings, and it hits me worse than my alarm clock does during the week. It was my guy, who I met before I went out, was calling me. I answered the phone mumbled “hello” and heard nothing but silence on the other side of the phone. I had to say what’s up again to see if he was there.

His tone of voice was like he was surprised to hear from me, “Hello?”

“What’s up man, what’s going on?” I was still half asleep and in no way wanted to talk to him today.

“No nothing just checking in man, let me know if you ever want to get buck wild again?” and then he hung up abruptly.

Never in my life have I had anyone, whether it’s a doctor or a drug dealer check in on me and make sure I’m okay after I take the medicine they give me. It baffled me that he called me. This guy called me for what, just to see if I was alive and could answer the phone? Am I not supposed to be alive or something? I couldn’t help but think there was some sort of hit on me or something.

I instantly woke up and started smiling. I figured I was lucky to have another day on this earth and spring out of bed. I don’t know what that guy’s game was or what he was trying to pull on me but there is no way I’m calling him back. I have never met a guy that cares that much to see if I’m alive the next day. He’s got something going on and I don’t care to be a part of it.

I Hate My Alarm Clock

There isn’t a more dreaded sound in the world than the piercing sound of the default alarm sound the iPhone has. I don’t care who’s phone it is, or what time of day or night I hear it, each time it shrieks through my ears and tenses up my entire body. It’s easily my least favorite sound in the world.

Monday to Friday I despise having to be woken up by my alarm clock each morning. I hate it so much that I have to set three alarms for myself. I still find myself hitting snooze prolonging waking up as long as I can. I know my snooze is set for every ten minutes but each time I hear it, even though I know it’s coming, it shakes me from whatever doze I was in and snaps me back to reality.

Don’t even get me started on when I hear it during the day. It drives me crazy that some people use it as an alarm for a meeting they have to jump on, or as few guys use it in the morning so they can remember to wake their wife up for work, and I know some girls that use it as a reminder to take their birth control. I don’t care how or why you use it but no matter when I hear that alarm it makes me cringe and damn near shit my pants.

I’ve always hated my alarm clock, just now it’s for an entirely different reason. It doesn’t screech me awake from my sleep and remind me I have to get up for work today. Instead my alarm clock is a tragic reminder that I have to get out of bed and leave the person that means the most to me laying in bed while I go to work.

It reminds me that it’s time to leave our perfect world we created together and snap back to reality and go to work. I hate it. It’s a daily reminder that I have to leave you in my bed and go to work when all I want to be doing is spending my entire morning with you. With no alarm clocks ringing. Those are the days I dream about. When I finally make it to the day that stupid default iPhone alarm ring doesn’t scare me anymore.

Take Me Back

Growing up can be wicked hard at times to say the least. Now that I’m actually an adult in the real world, I have no idea why I was in such a rush to grow up. It looked so glorious and seemed to be such a blast when I was a kid. Like being an adult was all I wanted, no rules, no one to answer to, it seemed like my own personal heaven. Shit was I wrong. Now that I’m an adult I realize how much of a fool I was. All I want to do is go back to being a kid again.

Take me back to those days when my mom would make the rounds to pick up all of my friends to go over to someone’s house. Those nights when we’d play manhunt, or ghost in the graveyard, or played Mario SuperStar baseball until someone’s parents finally made the rounds to pick us all up to take us all home. Those nights when the houses were filled with gatorades, party mix, and cheese balls as opposed to drugs, alcohol, and cocaine like it is nowadays.

I miss those days when I’d come home from football practice just in time for dinner. The table was set, the food was almost done, and I had enough time to shower before we all shared dinner at the table as a family. It was a time before any of us had cell phones, before people would eat in the living room in front of the tv, and before we all grew up and left the house we grew up in. Back when the world I knew was shrunken down to the size of my hometown.

Some of my favorite memories are from that summer when our whole friend group got new bikes for Christmas. We were old enough to be out on our own, we had our bikes and didn’t need anyone’s parents to drive us around, and spent our nights hanging out at the lake under the moonlit sky. Those nights when we could be out as long as we wanted and never had to worry about waking up for work the next day for work.

Ignorance is bliss. Isn’t that the damn truth. Take me back to the days before I had bills to pay. Take me back to before I had to make a decision on what I wanted to do with my life in high school. Take me back to the days when the hardest thing I ever had to do was to take the trash out from in the house when it was full. I had no idea how much I’d much rather be there than growing up so quickly being an adult and all.

I Wasn’t Expecting That

We had no reason to take our first date seriously. She was recently out of a relationship and I was filling my time making as many new friends as I could before my lease was up. We used to share the same complex but then all of a sudden I never saw her again. The only reason why we actually went on a date was because we both spent most of our time staring at each other while we passed through the halls and only recently found a way to break the ice. We made plans to go out that Friday night to see what that feeling was we felt in our stomach.

I don’t think either of us expected things to turn out the way it did. All it took was one second, that first second when she opened the door to her apartment and my eyes locked with her’s and the whole world stopped. I was lost staring into her eyes and ever since that first second, I haven’t been the same since. From that first moment when I saw her I knew it was something I wanted to have in my life.

Then all of a sudden one date turned into a two, then a third one, then a fourth, and now it’s as if we’ve become inseparable. We have sleepovers each night, alternating between her place and mine depending on who wants to cook that night. She’s someone that I want to wake up next to each morning and kiss good night to before I fall asleep every night.

I wasn’t ready for this. I put looking for love on the back burner until I actually found a home and planted my roots, I had no intentions of finding love. Then all of a sudden she happened and flipped my whole world upside down. Now it’s like home is wherever I am, with her.

I’ve Gone Backwards

I’ve been corrupted. Four years ago you wouldn’t catch me looking at my phone. It was constantly on silent, even sometimes during the day it would be on airplane mode so I wouldn’t get any calls my way. I always had my headphones blasting so I couldn’t hear the world. I’d get lost in my music, I lived in my own world and nothing bothered me. It was euphoric.

I lost some relationships because I never cared to check my phone. I was always answering texts so late, never receiving any phone calls, and sometimes leaving it at home completely as I went to work. Nowadays it’s something that could crumble a relationship but to me it was beautiful. For a while I lived in the real world.

I hated my phone. I wanted to find any and every way to keep my phone in my pocket. The best days I had were the days I was on my phone the least. At least that was then. Since then things have changed. I’ve found myself conforming to this new mainstream. I’ve become brainwashed and feel like I have lost all of my free thought that I once had.

I find myself checking my phone constantly. I found myself checking it after every song as opposed to before when I used to only check it after I finished an album. These days I keep clicking on apps to see if anything new has popped off just to quickly close it out for another ten minutes until I check it again. I’ve got myself addicted to this fictional dopamine and feel like I’ve completely lost touch with reality.

No long have I made my own happiness. Instead my own happiness seems to rely on whatever is happening inside my phone. It has nothing to do with what’s actually going on with my life. Pathetic right. I’ve done a complete 180 and have become everything I’ve epitomized. I guess the first step is realizing it right.

Never Ending Uno

I love Uno. It honestly may be my favorite game to play with a group of people. Yeah beer pong is cool, up and down the river gets everyone loose, but to me Uno is what breaks the ice with everyone. Uno has no sympathy. We’re all at victim to whatever cards we are dealt and play it’s game. Friends become enemies and enemies become our most hated rivals.

Hence why I love it so much, it brings out the competitiveness in everyone. All those draw fours, skips, and reverse cards, there’s no telling who’s going to win the game. But there will be a winner… unless you use those, “make up your own rule cards.” Please don’t ever use those.

We used those wild card Uno cards and all it did was prevent our game from ending. We might as well have been playing Monopoly with our time. We used the cards to create two rules; one said that when you put this card down, “everyone has to pass their hands to the right.” The last one read, “you can switch hands with anyone.”

Two simple, straight forward rules. Those cards were played rather quickly but would always resurface with the same rules. The only way we could change it was if the game ended. It’s because of those two rules that our game never ended. It was the longest card game, board game, or even video game I’ve ever been a part of.

We had six of us so it was easy for us to breeze through all the cards in the deck. Which typically can be a good thing… usually, but now when you have an extra set of custom rules in the game. Just as someone was ready to go out, or someone had one card left, someone would play their unique wild card and completely change the complexity of the game.

We played for almost three hours that night. I have no issue with playing Uno for three hours, especially when I’m winning, but that was the thing. No one was winning. We were all just dragging out our game, refusing to let someone win, and incapable of winning ourselves.

If you’re as much of an Uno fan as I am I advise you to never read the rules and directions on how to actually play. Keep playing the way you know how, it is far more enjoyable than how it was initially created to be played. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

My Little Secret

Most people don’t know this about me but I actually have a fake tooth. Well not completely fake but half of it is fake. Every tooth that erects from my gums is mine. There isn’t a fake tooth in there. They’ve been developing since I was born, I’ve drank plenty of milk to keep them growing strong, and have been fortunate enough to keep them all natural for this long in my life. Aside from half of one.

Which of course happens to be my right, if you’re looking at me the left front tooth of mine. That poor tooth of mine has been broken and chipped at least four times since I was in the fourth grade. Once from my brother kicking a box in my face, another was from chewing on a jawbreaker, (more like a tooth breaker) and once on a roller coaster from grinding my teeth so hard… I hate roller coasters.

The time I first chipped was way back when in gym class. Personally I loved gym class. I loved getting out there and competing any way I could. I even took AP gym back in high school. It was self proclaimed by me and my classmates but we were hands down the most advanced gym class our school had. Hence the AP gym class. That’s how serious I took gym.

Either way I digress, back in fourth grade one day it randomly started to absolutely pour down during school one day and since the teachers had originally planned today’s activities to be outside, they converted to throwing us together in a game of dodgeball inside. They split us all up into four different teams, each playing on one half to the basketball court, set the timer, and let us just go crazy. I just went too crazy.

Before they even blew the whistle to start the match, I told myself I was going to be the first one to get a dodgeball. It was just the competitor in me, I wasn’t going to lose to anyone. So much so that when they blew the whistle just as I rushed to the center line to be the first one there.

It was close, the person opposing me had got just as good of a jump as I did at the whistle so I had to dive to the line to beat the person (who was the fastest kid in the school) and won. I dove face first for the dodgeball and was the first person to the balls. But at what cost?

While I dove for the ball I stretched myself like I was superman flying through the air to make it there first. Unfortunately I didn’t land on the ball first. Instead my jaw smashed against the gymnasium floor and evidently that was when I chipped my front tooth in half. (my left and your right)

I didn’t think anything of my jaw hitting the hardwood. I just thought I hit the floor and felt fine. I was good, I was ready to compete. I didn’t understand why people’s faces were so worried about me so quickly into the game. We had just started but it wasn’t until my friend pulled out a mirror from her backpack I saw why everyone was so concerned about me. My front tooth split sailboat style. (Like the right way to cut your grilled cheese… diagonally)

It was only my tooth, I didn’t feel a thing, there’s no nerves in there. Hell I didn’t even know it happened until they said something to me. Personally I didn’t care about my chipped tooth, I’ve been going to the dentist all my life and I was certain they could figure out (otherwise what have I been paying dental insurance for) how to fix it.

I honestly didn’t care about my tooth, it happened. All I cared about was winning. If I lose a tooth then I lose a tooth but I’ll make damn sure I’ll win even at the expense of my tooth. I was ready to avenge the half of my tooth I lost to win that dodgeball game but my gym teachers seemed to have other plans for us.

Before they even thought about calling the nurse to help me, they halted all gym activity and put the twenty four of us kids on tooth duty. We spent the next forty minutes, basically the entirety of our class, looking for the bottom half of my tooth so I could take it with me to the dentist.

I just had no idea that a chipped tooth would wind up being just like a dislocated shoulder or a cold sore; once it happens once it tends to keep happening.