It's been awhile since I've written here. Not much free time these days, I guess. Things have been alright. I think the last time I updated was when the Packers won the NFC Championship game. It's been a pretty crazy ride since then. I went to Dallas with my siblings on the weekend of the Super Bowl. We weren't able to afford game tickets, but it was still a wicked awesome experience just being in the city and seeing so many fans of both teams walking around the streets. I met a lot of other Packers fans and needless to say, the sports bar that I was in exploded in happiness, cheers, tears, and overall drunken debauchery when the time finally read "00:00" and the Packers finally took the Lombardi Trophy back to Titletown. Man, what a trip. I don't think I've ever been as happy since that moment, though. I don't know, I always blame it on being busy, but there's a lot of stuff in between the lines. I guess I just don't really know how to convey my emotions very well. My Human Sexuality professor Mrs. Joplin gave us a speech on the last day of class about how important it is to be able to communicate your feelings fully and clearly in a relationship and throughout life in general, yet even after that inspiring oratory experience, I still can't figure out how to say what it is that I want to say. I've never really felt 100% comfortable with anyone ever since she and I parted ways. In a way, I'm unwilling and too scared to attach myself to someone emotionally, as much as I'd like someone to keep me company. I think I'm too different. I've never really fit in anywhere, or with anyone. I don't have a big, fancy camera to carry around and take pictures of everyone all the time. I don't have a sweet ride that I've invested a lot of time and money into that makes everyone's heads turn when I drive by. I don't have a million pairs of shoes or all the latest fashion trends. I don't go to raves, although I am a big fan of electronic music, nor do I go to parties where everyone is drinking and smoking, although I do enjoy parties where everyone is just having a good time, eating and hanging out. I don't support same-sex marriage, even though I don't have a problem with homosexual people. Many of my friends are gay, but I just think that marriage should be between a man and a woman. I don't like Obama, not one bit. I feel that too many people my age today think that being a Democrat automatically means that you're not the "bad guy", and that Obama will somehow save us all. We're somehow worse off than we were three years ago. My hobbies are so radically different from anyone else. Is it really a turn-off if I play World of Warcraft? A lot of people I know look down upon the game, but they haven't even played it themselves, at least not to the point where they could understand how deep it is. There's something strangely satisfying in meeting online together with nine other people, total strangers at first, but now close friends, and working together to achieve a common goal that requires an incredible amount of coordination and execution. And communication. Downing a raid boss isn't exactly easy. It requires a lot of individual effort on everyone's part, and while it may seem silly that I spend three hours a night playing a game trying to kill dragons, I must say that it does wonders for my team-building skills. I guess this is my medium of communication. I would say that it makes me very goal-oriented. Still, despite my gaming habits, I would consider myself a real sociable people. If I had the choice, I would rather be out on a date, taking a lovely lady to all the new places and beautiful heights that I've discovered. I have a lot of things and a lot of places to show people. Yet something about me must seem so damn unattractive to the opposite sex. I don't know. I could go on and on about how different I am from everybody else, but I don't think anyone would truly understand. My life is pretty boring, but my mind runs wild in the late nights and early mornings, and it's times like these when I wish that I had someone to share my thoughts with, but it seems like every time someone stunning passes by, I let her do just that: pass right on by, not saying a word, hoping that she'll at least notice me. Never happens, though. Guess its true what they say, nice guys do finish last.
Kudos if you read all that.
