AKA: I’m Going to SUPERHELL

I was thinking the other day about the possibility that I’m not a good person afterall, that I may be a really bad person but I’m not aware enough to see that I’m a bad person.  Not only would I be a bad person, but I’d be an ignorant bad person.  I’ve since compiled a list of my bad traits/habits and prioritized them.  These are the worst five.

5. I gossip.  A lot.  I recently attended the wedding of a fraternity brother of mine and a really good friend of mine.  Matt and Kim.  That’s not really relevant, but I thought I’d throw it out there.  Anyway, while at their wedding reception I was sat next to my friend Sarah, another big gossip.  We started drinking and started talking about everyone.  Who was knocked-up, who got dumped whom, “who is that pregnant girl with P. and is it his?”  On and on and on just gossiping about everyone we knew.  It was fun, as it always has been, but this time I felt guilty afterwards.  Some of the things I “heard from blahblahblah about blah and blahblah” were totally untrue but I relayed them to Sarah and anyone listening like truth.  I shouldn’t do that anymore.

4. I steal. I should actually have put “I have stolen” but I think “I steal” has a better ring to it.  When I was 12 I stole a can of air freshner from a little general store in town, my mom found out and made me take it in apologize.  It was supposed to teach me a lesson that stealing is bad, but it really just taught me that I had to be more careful.  Over the next six years, I stole more thatn $2000 worth of merchandise from stores in the area and $1000 in cash from family members.  I was never caught.  The last time I stole was $600 from my brother to sponsor a road trip 2 years ago.  I was caught.  I haven’t stolen anything since.

3. I laugh at racist jokes. I can’t help it.  Some of them are really funny.  I know the act of laughing at a racist joke is considered racist, but I’m not a racist.  I don’t think so, at least, but what do I know?  I’m a white kid from Idaho.  And as Avenue Q has taught us: Evelyone’s a rittle bit lacist.

2. I hate people. Not in general, but some specific people and for stupid reasons.  Kelly B. for seeing me for who I was/am, Alex Z. for telling me off, Amber S. for kicking me in the 6th grade, Jake Y. for saying one mean thing to me (when others have never said anything nice to/about me and I don’t hate them), Michael B. for living, Lance for looking like me, the list goes on and on.  There are about 20 people that I truely, deep down inside, wish never existed and/or wish terrible fates on.  This isn’t casual “hate” this is complete and utter hatred.  I like to say about Kelly that I “hate her with the fiery passion of a thousand suns” and that the next time I see her, I’m either going to punch her in her good kidney or spit in her face.  The violence is just hyperbole, but the hatred is real.

1. I lie.  A lot.  Like almost all the time.  I’m (and I know this sounds like total BS) a recovering compulsive liar.  Part of me does it to see if I can get away with it, and part of me does it because I have a semi-legitamit reason to lie.  White lies can be seen as excusable, but I have some huge mother-f’ing lies that I’ve kept up over the years.  Margaret Cho once said (I’m paraphrasing) that the bigger the lie, the more you protect it.  I’m still letting people believe things that I told them years ago.  Some of them are horrible, some of them kinda innocent, but all of them lies.  I don’t want to go into detail, but if I told you something between 2000 and 2007, it’s most likely false.  Lying isn’t recent, either.  One day my mother stayed home sick from her volunteer job at my elementary school library and I told everyone she was pregnant and was ordered to stay in bed.

That being said, there are people who are likely to think that one of the most important things in my life never actually happened.  I feel like the boy who cried wolf.  I did have testicular cancer.  That’s not a lie.  But I won’t blame you if you don’t trust me, I’ve surely lost any crediblity that I had.

This is Cy.  We met online.  He lives in San Francisco and I live near Boise, ID.  We chatted and chatted and he suggested that I move down to SF with him.  Then things started to change.  At first I had regarded his suggestion as fantasy, but then I thought that maybe I could go to SF.  I started asking questions about logistical moving/living together things and he started to become distant.  After a while we stopped talking.  It was hard to kinda give up on him, he helped me get through a very difficult time in my life.  He inspired me to shave my head, something that I never thought I’d do but am very glad I did.  I wish I hated him, it would be it so much easier to see him online and to get over thinking that something wonderful could have happened.

This is Ryann.  Yes, two n’s.  I also met him online.  This time it was differnt.  We lives around Boise, too, so we’ve actually met.  More than once.  And complicated things.  Ryann and I are an interesting match.  Well, not so much at match.  We want differnt things from each other, or rather the same thing (long story).  The last time I saw him (3 weeks ago) he was pushing me out the door after a failed attempt to get into my pants (agian, long story).  Fate has been keeping us apart (or is it something else?) and we have only been texting short, shallow things back and forth every other day.  I’m sure he’s lost interest.  I wish I hated him so that I could no be so sad that I haven’t seen him.