On Friendships, Currents and The Overwhelming Fear of Being Alone

I have an overwhelming fear of being alone.

This is not your typical fear of being alone, however. It has very little to do with not finding a man whom I can share my life with. I gave up on that particular dream a long time ago. After so many long years of bad dates, broken hearts and romantic disappointments, I am so guarded against heartache that it would take a miracle for me to accept love into my life. And I’m just not the kind of guy who believes in miracles.

My real fear of being alone stems from the last couple of years I spent in Portland. Those were very difficult years for me. I was in a job that I truly loathed. I was in a city that held very little excitement for me. And, worst of all, I did not have the kind of friends that I needed to make my life as rich as it could have been.

That is not to say that I did not have friends. And it is certainly not to say that I did not have wonderful friends. The friends I made in Portland are still very much a part of my life, and I miss them all more than I could have ever imagined when I jumped in that tiny U-Haul all those months ago.

My friends in Portland were just at such different places in their lives than I was. They were getting married. They were having babies. They were buying homes in the suburbs.

On the flip side, they were not always up for dinner or drinks at the last second. They usually weren’t game for a night of dancing. They didn’t always see the appeal of exploring the city on a day off.

I spent a lot of weekends alone in Portland. I learned to be independent, dining out alone or buying a single ticket for a movie. I came to enjoy that independence, but I also yearned to have the kind of friends who would get excited about the idea of getting a last-minute ticket to a Prince concert and staying up all night dancing at the after party.

Since moving to Chicago, I have found friends who fit that bill a little better. The friendships I have made here fill a void in my life that I could never seem to fill in Portland. For the first time in a long time, I feel whole.

Having tasted that loneliness keeps me on edge, however. I know how easily my happiness can be ripped away. One friend moves. Another gets married. A boyfriend is found. A new job is gotten. And before I know it, I am back to spending my weekends alone.

And yet I wish the best for everyone in my life. If a move is the best thing for a friend, I support that. I’ll be the first to congratulate someone on an engagement. No one deserves love more than my friends. A good career move for someone I care about is something to truly celebrate.

I just fear where all of that will leave me.

I don’t see my life changing drastically any time soon. There are no great currents of change on my horizon. I can not say the same for the people around me, however. Every day I see new signs of their lives drifting into bigger and better waters. And all I can do is stand on the shore and wish them well.

I don’t want to feel the way I did when I decided I needed to leave Portland and start over. I also don’t want to hold back my friends from living their lives to the fullest. Sadly, a tiny voice inside tells me that I can’t have my cake and eat it too.

And so I live with my overwhelming fear of being alone.

On Anniversaries, Freebies and My Sloppy Drunk Weekend

I did some quick math on Saturday morning, flipping through an old calendar that lives in my underwear drawer. In doing so, I came to the shocking realization that as of Saturday, I have been in Chicago exactly one year.

(This is, of course, assuming I remember when I actually got to Chicago. If I am wrong in my calculations, I have actually been in Chicago a year and a week as of Saturday. That would mean that my actual anniversary is the same as that adorable guy’s I kept seeing everywhere last week. Remember him?)

To celebrate this rather monumental occasion, I did what anyone would do. I got sloppy drunk.

In reality, Saturday evening was no different from most of my Saturday evenings over the past few months. I had dinner with a friend before we headed to our new favorite bar. It was there that I became sloppy drunk before heading down the block to go dancing until I could take it no longer. At that point we hopped a cab across town for more dancing.

Next thing I knew, I was having some very intimate face-to-face time with my toilet. But let’s not dwell on the negative.

Instead, let us dwell on the extremely positive.

While my friend and I were getting sloppy drunk on Saturday, an amazing thing happened. After weeks and weeks of visiting the same small bar, we finally became regulars.

It was glorious.

We were recognized. We were welcome. And, most importantly, we were rewarded with free drinks.

Free drinks go a long way to facilitating my drive toward the sloppy drunk state, especially when said free drinks are shots. And I should let you all know that shots of pear vodka go down like love on a warm spring day. If it weren’t liable to kill me, I’d have that for breakfast every day.

As it were, I had Burger King for breakfast on Sunday. The greasy goodness is the perfect remedy for a night of sloppy drunk frivolity. It’s also a way to get the body going when you have to help a friend move after barfing up Saturday night just hours beforehand.

Yes, it really is great to be in Chicago.

On Movies, Television and Combining the Two in Order to Make Boat Loads of Cash

Today is the day. Homer, Bart, Marge and the rest of the jaundiced gang from The Simpsons are hitting the big screen. I, for one, am thrilled. I have no real intention of seeing the movie, mind you. I’m just really really really tired of the marketing onslaught that this movie is being backed by. I’ve about had it with The Simpsons.

The fact that this movie is finally upon us (not to mention the inclusion of Transformers at your local cineplex) has me thinking that there are not nearly enough movies based on television shows. It is clearly an untapped market.

But worry not! Dr. Sparky has some ideas to fill this cinematic hole.

Beverly Hills 90210: Back to West Beverly
The gang’s all back as Brandon is forced to take on a job advising the newspaper staff at his alma mater. Find out who is sleeping with whom, whether or not Dylan’s hair has gotten any larger and if Steve Sanders is capable of not using that cheesy grin. All your favorite cast members are back on the big screen this summer. You won’t want to miss Gabrielle Carteris trying to pull off playing a young thirty-something!

I Love Lucy: Lucy Does Some ‘Splainin’
Who knew that America’s favorite kooky housewives was really a lesbian?! When Ricky comes home from a television shoot to find Lucy in the arms of Ethel, our beloved redhead really does have some explaining to do! Lesbianism has never been more hysterical.

The A-Team Beats the Bush
While war rages across the globe, this group of ex-US Army officers goes underground to bring down the evil regime of a corrupt US President. They may be on the run for a crime they didn’t commit, but that won’t stop them from saving every last American from the greatest misfortune of our time. Rap superstar Jay-Z steps into the role of Sgt. Bosco Alber “B.A.” Baracus, made famous by the legendary Mr. T. From T to Z, this is a film you won’t want to miss!

Full House Comes Full Circle
When Aunt Becky leaves Uncle Jesse for a younger man, he is left to raise his brood of kids alone. Luckily, the Olsen twins are multi-millionaires who are ready to step in and shoulder the burden. With one minor exception, the entire original cast returns for this delightful trip down memory lane. Candace Cameron opted out of the film because Jesus told her it was not a good idea.

That should be enough to get the ball rolling. I really do see a future in this business of turning television shows into movies. There just has to be a lot of money there.

And just wait until you see my plans to turn Family Matters into an epic ten-part movie extravaganza.

On Pressure, Scapegoats and An Excuse for My Late Post

Oh, the pressure!

I didn’t post this morning. It is well after 7:00 in the evening and I am just getting around to adding a post to this stinking blog. Since January of 2005 I have posted every weekday without fail. And today I came very close to slipping.

So what is the deal? Why am I so late in getting something up?

Simply put, it is you.

Yes, it is you. It is the pressure of knowing you are out there waiting for me to do something amazing. You are looking to me for inspiration. I will be the one to make your day worthwhile. It really is more than I can handle.

Now I know how Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears feel.

Before you know it, I’ll be shaving my head and doing lines of cocaine off of toilet seats. I’ll be wrecking cars and dropping babies and not showing up for work and walking in and out of rehab on a weekly basis. I’ll be a mess.

But that is what happens when one’s life is run by fame. It’s all just a whirlwind and finally one snaps.

Luckily, you will all serve as my scapegoat.

On Randy, Harry and The Hump Day Addition of Welcome to My Truth

Oh, it is Hump Day. We’ve reached the middle of the week. The view toward the weekend is clear. It is Hump Day.

Which is not, I should clarify, reason to hump. Though my blog has been randy as of late (there have been comments, you know), my sex life has not exactly taken a turn for the better. And so Hump Day does not mean humping will occur. Well, at least not for me anyhow.

What will occur on this fine Hump Day is the airing of grievances. I have some proverbial thorns in my proverbial paw, and I would like to pick them clean and fling them into the great vistas of the internet.

1. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I stayed up quite late last night plowing through the last section of the last installment of the Harry Potter saga. When I reached the final page, I closed the book and sat there in silence. I expected to be sad. I expected to feel as though something wonderful had come to an end. I did not, however, expect to feel cheated and disappointed. I won’t go into details as I do not wish to ruin the suspense for anyone, but I will say that Miss Rowling really lost a lot of respect in my book. Someone may want to check on her. I think a curse has been placed on her and her word processor.

2. Blockbuster Online
I recently rejoined the online video rental game after a year off. During my prior stint, I had used Netflix. I decided to spice things up and go with Blockbuster this time around. I fear this was a mistake. Blockbuster is fine and all, but there is one teeny tiny little thing about it that really has my blood boiling. It doesn’t not offer rentals of NC-17 films. Granted, there are not many such films on my list of movies to watch, but there is at least one. And I can’t get it through Blockbuster. And I hate them for it.

3. MySpace Mail
For those who do not use MySpace, you may not know that it has a messaging system built into it. In essence, it is like having another email account. The difference here is that you can see if your mail has been read. And if your mail has been read and you have yet to get a response, you can worry about and wonder why the recipient of your mail is ignoring you. This is especially troubling when the recipient of your mail is a cute guy who you thought you had a good date with. It is all very troubling.

And those are just a few of the things driving me a little batty these days. Hump Day or not, I’m definitely on the verge of a major eruption. Everyone around me better watch it.

Unless, of course, I can do some humping on Hump Day to relieve the pressure.