Super Bowl XLII, the worst one ever?

usually at this time of the year most americans are planning massive gatherings to watch the largest sports presentation of the year. this year however, has not been the case. unless you happen to be a fan of the giants or patriots, most fans have a certain apathy towards this game. regardless of whether the patriots cheated en route to their perfect eighteen and zero record, or whether you feel that the giants are not really the best representative of the nfc, it’s just how this season played out (it’s an especially low point for me as i happen to be a dallas cowboys fan, but we got beat so i can’t really say much). this Super Bowl lacks drama as most of the world expects (and given this season, rightly so) that the patriots will continue their stampede towards immortality as the second undefeated champions and establish themselves as a dynasty in the nfl annals (again as a cowboys fan it kills me to write these words). early in the playoff season i was afforded the chance to purchase Super Bowl XLII tickets which i immediately did (at the time my cowboys were looking as the nfc favorites although they had lost the season finale to the redskins, i was not worried, we had clinched home field and had already beaten the packers, redskins, giants (twice!), and i was not fearful of the bucs nor the seahawks. . .),as i make my preparations to head to arizona next week i have recently come under fire by many of my friends and family members who wish i would not attend the game and thus they think that i should sell my tickets. while this matchup does not really stroke my heart as a football fan, i wish to attend for a multitude of reasons. chief among these reasons is the very simple fact that how many opportunities does one have to attend a historical event such as this one (the last undefeated season was way back in1972), then my next point is of course how many chances does one get to go watch a Super Bowl live? while i detest the patriots and i loathe the giants (especially eli manning and michael strahan. . .) i think this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and i for one will not pass this up . . .

compared to her, i’ve done nothing with my life. . .

i’m not a jealous type of person. usually. i mean i know that my life is not exactly how i wish it would have been; but everything has been as good as i could hope for, all things considered. i’ve got my bachelor’s degree (well i’m nine hours away and i’ll go through commencement ceremony in may) and i’ve recently taken and passed my LSAT’s so things are definitely on the up and up (of course law school tuition is not something i’m looking forward to. . .). so i’m pretty satisfied with the road that i’ve traveled so far. it’s been a long time coming, nearly eight years since i graduated from high school. i’ve gone through a trip that has taken me around the globe and passed through two colleges, i’ve changed my degree plan six times, took a year off to try and find myself (didn’t really happen,however europe is worth another look), all the while not caring about the achievements of the those in my graduating class who were rocketing through their college years in anticipation of entering “the real world”. i was never really driven to become a member of the bureaucratic business mentality (although it was the degree i was originally enrolled in because my family was very hesitant of my desire to be a history major), instead i was always the one who was interested in art gallery viewings and historical discoveries. in short i always felt the need to create was much more important than the need to produce. to be perfectly honest, i really do not desire to be a lawyer, it just happens to give me more of a fall back in case my writing career never takes off (to be frank; while i love to write i am definitely more of a people person, conversation with others is highly enjoyable to myself and i can spend hours debating/discussing topics with people for hours at a time). i guess this explanation was needed because i have recently moved back to my home town, as expected i have caught back up with many of those high school classmates who had either never left or those who like myself have come back home in search of “the real world” (in my case i find it ironic that i left this town because i did not want to get a degree from my hometown, and now i may end up with not only a bachelor degree but a law degree as well . . ). i bumped into a girl i used to know the other day and we ended up going out for drinks and just catching up. i explained to her my many travels and how i ended up back home and now i was considering law school. she patiently listened and seemed generally intrigued by what i had done, although we both commented on how i had definitely procrastinated ( i had graduated in the top ten percent of my class, which was no mean feat considering my class was 975 people). i laughed a little and then asked how her time had gone (she was a year younger and had graduated the following spring), i was completely amazed that not only had she acquired her bachelor’s degree (in three years!), she had gained her master degree and is currently seeking new employment in the sports administration world (oh yea, she had a administration job at a SEC school but resigned because she decided while she was living her dream, she wished to be closer to home so now she’s currently seeking a similar position in this area). her 25th birthday is this coming weekend, and in the seven years since she has graduated she’s exactly (if not further) than where she wanted to be. i’m glad for her but it’s kinda odd to me how the slightly unfocused girl who loved soccer and got a scholarship to play college ball ended up in an administration role, i asked who this all happened and the answer i got really shook me up. ” i guess i grew up, i don’t know how to put it any other way”, this girl learned how to focus and got what she wanted in life, and i’m over here still trying to figure out what i what to do with my life. i don’t know why this bothers me so much, lots of my friends have grow up and gotten “real jobs”, some have families, one even scaled Mt. Kilimanjaro (found out about his trip waaay too late because that’s something crazy that i would have done). i also know that i’ve done things that lots of people have dreamed of doing, i’ve been across the country and i’ve spent time in europe and asia, i’ve visited countless museums and seen priceless things, but i can’t help to feel like i’m the one who missed out. talking to her and now thinking about it, i sometimes think that all the things that i’ve done could have waited (not like the things are going anywhere), i feel like i’ve lost time and there is no way to catch back up to all the things that i’ve missed. for the first time ever,  i feel jealous when i think of a person’s life. i wonder if it’s because she’d younger than me, i wonder if it’s because i feel that i should have taken that road (one that at my two sister’s love to remind me of, how i’m the only child with out a degree. . . well at least i’ll finally accomplish that). i’ve always had pride in taking the road less traveled, of being a person who explores what the world is about and not just tried to be assimilated into the day to day grind that most find themselves in, but recently it just makes me feel like a vagabond. . .

it’s a winding road to find out who you are. . .

friday
this happens to be the day that i hate the most. for one i work the mid-afternoon/early evening shift at the airport, unfortunately the end of the week is also the busiest time of the week. last week my supervisor was transfered to another area and my area received a new supervisor who can over from the overnight shift. lets just say the way she runs things is definitely more aggravating that what i’m used to operating under. today was a friday much like every other. now i have nothing against union workers, hell i happen to be one myself! however in my area there happens to be a certain union worker who abuses system more than any other. another thing i want to make clear, i’m very supportive of the continued immigration into our country (while i prefer it to be legal, i have no issue with those who come into our land provided that they just want to work and create a better life for themselves and their families) i just can not stand people who refuse to work and those that profit from the sweat and labor of others (hence why i myself am a union member). this worker has been with the company for over seven years has benefited from the various union contracts that have helped to distribute some of the wealth the company has amassed (hmm, that sounds a bit complicated. let me just state that she’s been here so long she makes more money than most other employees and she actually makes more than most of the part-time supervisors). this girl complains whenever she is forced to do work and is always looking for an excuse to not do any work. another trick that she utilizes is the race card, which is a real shame. she immigrated from africa at a young age and whenever is faced with doing something unpleasant (real work) she claims that she is being victimized because of a racial bias. unfortunately because of union bylaws as long as she does not get into a physical confrontation (a fight) with another employee or manager and as long as she is not caught stealing (a federal crime since we are working with materials that cross several state lines) the union will protect her job. she knows this and uses it to her advantage. it sickens me, i can not stand the fact that some people abuse the system and make it tougher for those who want to come over to our land and try to just earn an honest living. as the shift progresses and our work becomes increasingly more difficult i was faced with the unpleasant experience of having to work along side her. it becomes apparent that i am doing a majority of the workload and i begin to get fed up. i finally vent my frustrations at her, demanding to know why she felt that she did not need to work as hard as myself (i was also furious that she was being more more than myself each hour and was accomplishing an astonishing less amount of work). the attempt to get her to do her fair share of work however backfired upon me, as she then refused to do any work! this of course enraged me to a point that few have ever mad me rise to. this however was her ultimate goal, for at the pinnacle of my anger she slept away to the managerial office and proceeds to make a statement that i was both mentally and physically threatening her and that as long as i was anywhere near her she felt fear for her personal safety. translation: i’m in some deep shit. of course the managerial staff could very well see for themselves the level of my anger, for i was still raging with the injustice that had just appeared before mine eyes, luckily the reputation of that particular union worker is not very high (and to my credit i am normally agreeable and get along well with others) and so the action for my suspension is not followed through with, but, yes there is a but, i do get sent home (in actuality not really a punishment for during this entire time period my workplace had become over-run with our assigned workload). i gladly leave the area, head towards the guard shack and experience the beautiful feeling of relief as i reach my trusted chevrolet truck. as i slump into my seat and hang my id around the rear view mirror i hear the tell tale *beep* from my cellular that i had left sitting in my center console. as i flip open the screen and read the message displayed on it a small semblance of a smile flickers across my face. Summer had been rather excited because she had passed some work required examination ( which of course meant continued employment ) and was inquiring whether i could possibly stop by to say hello and to talk for awhile (now for me this is rather difficult for we both know that i still have feelings for Summer and she herself may still have some for me, however she is currently in an odd on again/ off again relationship with her live-in boyfriend) , but at this particular time i rather did not care for the “quote – unquote” awkwardness, i just needed a beer. . . i drive over the small stretch of highway which connects the airport to the outlying suburbs and drive down those familiar roads, closer and closer towards that house of my confused broken dreams. i pull in front of the small duplex and sit still inside my truck wondering whether or not if i should enter. i glance at my rear view mirror and the anger which i nearly forgotten from my horrid work experience bubbles up over my fear and i find myself face to face with the door. i barely get a chance to raise my hand to knock upon the door when Summer rips it open and i hear her cry of complete and utter delight. i must confess that i was taken aback by this sudden and forceful show of complete exaltation from her, and i was soon to discover that my silly silly Summer had unfortunately started her party many hours previously. I manage to un-hook myself from between her grasp long enough to state that i was going to the kitchen to retrieve us more drinks and i assured her that i would return quickly. satisfied with my answer she resumed her conversation mid-sentence with her previous companions. as i walked through the hall past those pictures from long ago i pause for a heart’s breath to see whether the photograph of myself and Summer taken so many years ago still hangs upon the wall. good, it’s where it’s always been third from the left on the upper left hand side. however His picture is nearly everywhere else, matter of fact my picture seems to be the only one that does not have his visage within it’s frame. with the sudden confidence that i received from seeing that i still had a place (however small) i walked past that hall into the kitchen where i knew He would be. predictably there He was, as always leaning against the wall with those neutrals who always seemed to vanish whenever He and i found ourselves in the same area. as expected the room grew still and i found myself facing Him, alone and yet not alone with every eye in the room looking at us. the silence was only broken by the call of Summer from down the hall inquiring about her drink and i heard my voice, as if from a distance, answering her that i would soon be back with what she had desired. i steeled myself up and looked into His dark brown eyes (eyes that showed a man given different circumstances might have been my closet friend) and announced that i was no threat to Him, that i did not love her (it kills me how my face can betray my heart so perfectly), and that she was His as long as He desired her. the flick of surprise in His eyes told the tale that He did not expect it to be this easy, that He expected me to fight for her and to try to make it difficult. He just did not understand and so as such took this as an attempt to re-start and He firmly grasped my hand and declared that He understood. i smiled the smile of a man who did not wish to smile, yet i smiled and shook His hand and swallowed my pride, all of the sake of her continued happiness. i make the two drinks and promise that i’d be back and we’d continue our conversation and He stupidly grins and agrees. Summer walks in drunkenly and retrieves her new drink and sees that we are (at best) on steady ground and drunkenly declares that we will all become best friends. He agrees almost immediately (to His credit i feel that He does love her, however she may just be too much for Him to handle) and He inquires where the neutral jonathon was (he was getting his dog cynthia from his apartment across, this dog was his last connection to a failed relationship and as much meant a great deal to him. . . also a source of constant aggrivation to those of us who dealt with him), so i immediately was inserted as Summer’s best friend, which i discover much to my chagrin that they customarily took random shots of vodka, followed by a beer chaser. as i’m coughing from the strength of the pure vodka (which i still feel burning down my throat) she decides that i need to taste her “irish rose” wine. of course there is no more left (she might have drank about half of that bottle herself. . .when she gets herself into this mode she’s quite a site) , but her solution is for myself to take a sip of what she has left in her original cup. hesitantly i try to just take a sip when the contents of her cup are flush in my nose and eyes. i wipe my eyes to see that she exuberantly had tipped the entire contents of the cup into my face (at which point He who had been laughing through this entire episode jokingly tells her to not drown me) i attempt to send Him a look trying to convey my thoughts that maybe it was time for my Summer to maybe call it a night when she un-expectantly hits me on the arm because i wasted what was left of her wine! wtf!! i look at her and she sees the expression on my face and apologizes profusely to me, i merely laugh it over and get close to her and explain that i could never stay mad at a woman like her. i accept her apology and i proceed to follow her room from room as she meanders throughout the party, trying my hardest to find a way to sober her down. it continues on for a while of me and Summer pounding down those beers until jonathon and cynthia arrive. i realize that this may be my chance to isolate her from the the thinning party, jonathon is one of those neutrals who gets on rather well with Him and i could get a few minutes alone to just ask how she was doing (what did i get myself into again). as jonathon and cynthina enter the room, summer immediately bends down and tries to grab cynthia (who happens to be a terrier of some type) and promptly falls into the wall. . . sigh. . . He stands up with an anger in His eyes, i gingerly bend down to help her to her feet and as i stand her up once again He and i are face to face. . . He starts out on her and i immediately throw it back unto him for letting her get to that state. a silence builds in the room and all the work that i had laid earlier in the night can nearly be seen flitting out the door. i look from my Summer back into His eyes and i can feel something about to come up, when un-expectantly she speaks and apologizes to the both of us and completely takes the issue from between us. luckily for the three of us, a dear friend of Summer takes her from my arms and announces that she was going to get Summer to the bedroom. i look back at Him and he has an expression that i can’t quite place. He suddenly looks at me and asks what i would do in this situation, i realize my chance and i state that “i’d drink another beer and have to head to the hard ware store in the morning to buy some dry-wall”. the party is saved, He laughs and we head back to the kitchen for another drink. time passes on and the next thing i know most of the party has left, it’s just me, jonathon, Him, and Summer left. jonathon and Him get into a heavy shot contest and are urging me to join i when i look down and see i have a message in my phone. i look and it’s from my Summer, i glance up and i can see her shadow in the hall beckoning me to come towards her. i send a message back telling her to meet me outside in five minutes and we can talk, but i stress the word talk, for i may be many things but i’ve never been a home-wrecker. i could not do that, not even to Him. i return to my two companions who are on their fifth or sixth shot of some concoction. they urge me to join them and i heartily agree in the name of our new found “friendship”. i propose my favorite shot, a shot that is quite potent, the one and only white russian. He and jonathon look to each other and agree (as i knew that they would, the alcohol was making my job too easy) i quickly pull out the milk and the vodka and dole out nine shots of white milky brew. i set three in front of both men and pick up one declaring that each shot was meant to represent one of us. one shot for each one of us, we would drink to each other. as i slam down my three in short span of thirty seconds they look incrediously look at each other and attempt to mimic my actions they get no further than the second shot each. as they slump down i laugh to myself and drink His last shot, it nearly brings me to my knees, i had over down it with the vodka the hint of milk was barely there to taste ( my three had been one hundred percent milk, so in a small way i pitied them) i hoisted Him off the floor and he awoke to a bit of a startle, i quickly explained that we were all drunk and that i was gonna place him on the couch because His room was too far. He thanked me (god, why, why does he make it so hard, i want to hate Him and yet i can never bring myself to hate him) and i deposited him on the couch. i went back to the kitchen and picked jonathon off the floor and deposited him at the foot of the couch. i turned off the radio, dimmed down the lights and quietly slipped out the front door to where she had been anxiously awaiting my arrival. i could smell her perfume the moment i touched the door handle, it hadn’t changed at all since those years ago. i saw her standing there with her back to me and i quietly crept behind her and put my arms around her slender body. there was no fear as she turned around and embraced me and held tight, i can not tell you how long we stayed in that position for i myself do not know. i just know that finally i bent my head down to talk and she shook her head and told me to be quiet, and just hold her. finally she turned and faced me and took my hand as she led me back into the duplex. we peered into the living room and heard the quiet sounds of two men breathing in dark silence, i followed her into her room and i lay down next to her in the silent twilight. she held my hand the entire time, turning once once to give me the quietest (and tenderest) kiss that i have ever received. i’ll never know if she felt my tears as they silently fell into her luscious hair, i kissed the top of her head and said that if she ever needed me i’d be there in a heartbeat. i looked into her eyes and told her He loved her and i could feel that she might love Him as well, as long as He had a spot in her heart it was not fair for me to be acting the way that i was. i got up from the bed and without saying goodbye walked away from that house, back in and into the cold loneliness of my truck. the morning dew was swept away from my windshield as the truck roared to life and i put it into gear. as i looked back into the rear view window i could see her bedroom light was turned on and then after a moment it too faded back into the night. my damn work id swung back into view; laughing at the mess i had re-entered myself into and as i merged back onto the freeway i wish i could have said no to a free beer, the price of that beer might kill me. . .

man do i hate fridays. . .

so everything has to have a beginning. . .

the start of something is always the most hard. it takes courage to venture into the unknown darkness, a step towards something that is unfamiliar and new. i have never been afraid to thrust myself into that void, the fear of the unknown (while quite immense and always in my presence) has never outweighed my fear of regret. i have always reasoned that the regret of not having done something has always been greater than the risk of whatever consequences that may come. in my opinion failure is not an option, it is actually an eventuality. i am mortal, i have faults, i have weakness, i fear, i hate, i love, i live, and i will die. i do not fear death for i have determined that life is infinitesimally scarier than whatever judgment that i will face (if any) when i leave this earth. i know that i will fail at something (maybe everything) but i also know that i will continue to at least give life a chance. so i take that first step into the night, i allow the darkness to envelop my frame and i will walk towards my final destination. i know not the path that i will journey on, and i know not how long my journey may be, however i know that i have taken my first step.