Intermission

    It hasn't been more that a half and hour since I've woken up, turned water on and shook my mouse awake. Sundays are usually my days to study since there isn't anyone home and I can completely focus my time on studying, taking a well deserved nap and whatever needs my attention in a lazy manner. It seems that since I've thrown myself into my school work that I've busier that imagined. I've made huge strides despite smaller class sizes, the University trying to get rid of me, and getting a patron to offer me the money to get this stupid degree done. Even though I've given up my social life to the wolves and usually spend a total of 12 to 14 hours a day studying just to keep up with the pack and ahead of the failing crowd.

Mind you, I'm not claiming to be intelligent in any way. I'm the last person to claim that I'm in any way intelligent. Stubborn, yes. Determined, sure. Too stupid to know when I'm beat, of course! I'm the first person to say that I'm not the brightest bulb in the bunch, but I'm more than willing to learn and make sure I never repeat mistakes then to pull a House moment and see the trees for the forest. And yet, just struggles in thought has actually gotten me in some awesome parties where I happy am aware that I'm the dumbest person in the room and I'm more than happy with that. Being the dumbest person in the room usually means I get to learn something new and nothing makes me happier. Better than being the smartest in the room.

And yet, this was my life a half an hour ago. See I'm being kidnapped in less than 20 minutes before they're here. Personal messages scream across my screen that notify me that my abductors are already on their way and have already crossed the threshold of "too late" and "be ready or well drag you out". My plans of making coffee and watching Bruce Campbell be Bruce Campbell have gone up in smoke as I sit there a bit confused and shock. I'm calculating the time of a shower and laundry and how quick I can come up with an excuse to hide under my rock more. Abductor A has already disarmed me with remarking that not only are they getting off the freeway and I am past my midterms and have nothing better to do. She disarms me of every chance of escape and has even baited enough cheese to make me think twice. Before I know it they're pounding on my door laughing and telling me to get out or they'll coming after me. Reluctantly I crack open the door and concede without the benefit of a white flag for them to snatch away and smack me with. I plead for a half hour to shower and to mimic human beings and to wait in the car. They give me 15 and counting.

Packs of women, what is it about packs of women? Oh, did I leave that part out? Yes, I'm being kidnapped by two women hell bent of making me do things. Yes, I'm that antisocial. Lookers? Of course they are. Fun to be with? Easily. Wanting me and I have the nerve to complain? Hardly. Hey, you making that 70's porn music with your mouth! Stop that. I'm telling the story here. If you are in that mood or impatient then go look at porn and stop reading. Did I mention you can get porn on the internet instead of reading this? Yea, I know. What ever you are into and what ever is going to give your nightmares. Ok, I'm digressing, but while I'm showering and trying to get my hair to behave I'll describe my rowdy abductors.

Abductor #1: She's a physical manifestation on why I stopped trusting blue haired girls even if her hair is a bright red. A bit of a long past that makes her more than interesting and fin to have around if not for the fact that she is living on the edge of civilization. A drive longer than sin, yet still worth visiting when my other friends are too busy with life to pay attention to me. You can almost call her the little voice in my ear that makes me want to let go the reins and raise a little hell. An awesome person to date that even her own ex's recommends her to others. More than my intellectual equal even though I think I know more. She has been a joy in my life and more than willing to climb through her window even when she's not home. Have a bit of a harem problem being the patron sexpot of all Nerdboys, but hey what are you going to do?

Abductor #2: If you wrap a wolverine in pink and dump adorableness with a pair of legs that would make you drool until you kicked by them is a good idea of who she is. Brilliant in her own ways and can almost keep up with my drinking and have actually made me car about basketball, if only for a season. A woman that would make Wonder woman proud, she can throw down as well as discuss complex mathematical concepts. She bounces with life and is more than willing to hold saloon or court. She also pulls on that hedonistic nerve in the way that a martini should be quality, food decedent, and fury at a close switch. She also pulls on the whole Nerdboy vibe, but she is completely oblivious to what they are and where they come from.

So why are they friends and not more? A topic too complicated to sum up in few words and too complex to phantom. Or not. In truth, it's me and never them. After some time I've come to realize that I have some sort of x factor that makes most of my relationships fail. As much as I would love to say that I just met a few psychopaths in my time or even that I'm some sort of magnet or even that I've made a few women unstable to the point of stalking me, leaving messages on my phone between insane and threatening, and even a few cases of assault against me. I'd like to think that I'm a victim of circumstance as Curly would declare, but after so many encounters I hate to say that my random outlier has to be the mutual breakup with the understanding that love has been shared and paths simply have to move on. In truth, I've become a bit Machiavellian in my relationships, going with heard earned rules and methods of dodging those bullets. In many ways it's easier keeping an awesome friend that will bring me years of joy even if they leave than to have a pist off ex to avoid.

Even if I not able to smell the flowers I'd rather sit among the beauty of a garden than to take a chance of killing off another flower.

It seems that my abductors are getting restless as why start honking and yelling for me. Yep, just what my reputation needs more, restless women demanding that I get in the car. We travel Westside in search for new territory of conquest as I offer my old stopping grounds as fresh slaughter. I could use caffeine, a nap and more caffeine, but why complain while I'm here or at least that's #1's logic in shutting my complaining ass up. We hit a Middle Eastern restaurant and dine as we talk and savor rich coffee as it's meant to be. We take moments to catch up and to laugh and share our time together.

We share our views and keep conversation light. One of my abductors is still recovering from heartbreak and we dance on eggshells enough to keep our thoughts proactive. If there is a connection to us all it would have to be that we all had out rough relationships and dealing with love yet, we have different methods of coping. Different mechanisms that help us get over the worse of it. Methods of emotional survival that gets us over the worse and make us some how functional.

And yet, I can't help to feel a bit more envious at times.

Our meal leads us to one of my old haunts when before the young and stupid ages before I discovered that the curves of the feminine appeal in vivo than on the pages of comics. We walk in as I'm taken back to a simpler time. #2 flows through the crowd as if she was a fish in water, searching through volumes of back issues and anthologies. #1 is busy remarking how odd the settings all the while letting everyone know that she does not belong here and that she is a stranger in strange land. I allow myself a moment to look at new and old. I've not collected in years when extra income was an annoyance rather than a fluke. Volumes speak back to me in memories and times of old. I retrace my steps back to when all I had was myself rather than to look after those near me.

There was a time when I didn't have a roll to play or responsibilities to others. Where my Saturdays were filed with me trying to take up the time rather than sit alone in dark rooms. Reading stories of heroes and villains alike. Wondering what life will have set for me and how I will take on the world. Reading of those who suffered losses and fought for vengeances, it's hard to wonder differently one could behave to face on the world. World takes something away from you, you take on the world. A simple view of the world for a world past being simple. It's difficult to understand who I was and what I was. How my view of love and life have changed into a world of gray rather than black and white. In two decades I will fall stupidly in love, marry, have children, divorce, and try to rebuild what life I never had all the while stumbling and falling into one oddity to another. I would play numerous roles, some by my own choosing and others given to me. I still question my past at times, even when I've continue to arrive at the same conclusions.

We make our exodus quickly as we laugh to ourselves. It seems #1 has raised the ire of the Nerd Boys rather than their lust this time and nerd rage is something to be avoided at all costs. We head west until we reach the beach as we find a parking under shade and walk on towards the beach. By this time I forget that I'm annoyed and denied a Sunday filled with slumbering. Soon my feet are immersed in sand and seawater fill happy lungs. My previous memories of this beach has been soured a bit as we walk on the sand. It's been years, but I usually try to rewrite memories in places dear to me in hopes of combating any bitter feeling. This beach has seen moments of joy and sadness. People with me and those far away. People who have chosen to leave my life and others promising to return. It's still a place of promise and hope for me so this had to be a place we chose.

Walking on the sand has offered me some insight and calm. Watching the sun slowly set to the ocean, it would be a few months when both my abductors would leave to go east. Their lives will take them to new places and new tasks as I remain here to struggle on a bit longer. I have a hunch others will leave and enter in time and not without a small moment of respite to pass the time for just a small while. And yet, I can not help feeling a bit hollowed inside, with some yearning that only T.S. Eliot could put to words. There is still much story to resolve and much to uncover and yet, I can not help thinking back to the sandy sunset wondering that this time is mine, even if tomorrow is taken from me. This moment in the warm sand and the salty breeze on my face is special. After all, tomorrow is never promised, but this moment is mine for the taking.

It almost gives me hope.