Now & Then: Gatsby

    I enjoy a party as much as anyone else. There is a great deal of enjoyment in gathering people, mingling, and making new friends. In my past one could have considered me to be a young Gatsby. I would host parties for the simple reason of inviting over women that I had interest in with hopes of wooing them.  

    In my early twenties it was easy to get off of work at 10:30 (PM), grab a case of beer, some Boons-Farm, and invite all of my co-workers and friends over to party. I would give my roommate 15 minutes’ notice to get out of his PJ’s and spot clean the house. Within the hour we would have fifteen to thirty people over playing beer pong. There would be plenty of people smoking cigarettes on the porch and decent pop rock or top 40 playing on the lap top while everyone mingled. Usually a few hours in the roommate would end up on the roof with at least 2 other people while some drunken girl craving attention would have flashed her boobs at least 5 times by one o’clock.

    This method worked well for me and often led to me and some young lady in my room but I have never been a fan of the golden rule of sales…Always be closing. Almost always I would stop things before it went too far and while most guys would say this is dumb of me I honestly enjoyed knowing I have self-control and self-respect to not raise my number just because I could.

    Jump forward to 2015, I am now 26, living alone, single…again, and finally realizing the flaw in Gatsby’s master plan. Hosting booze fueled nights in hope of creating a relationship or connection of any form is a poorly laid out plan. It offers a great opportunity to catch all of the red flags but why even waste the time. I’m not saying that only bad things come from these situations, that is far from true, a great deal of amazing things happened on nights like this but it always had its flaws.

    Building a connection with a woman who is 5 beers and 4 shots in while she flashes the room will not lead me or many others to true happiness. These actions should be the writing on the wall that warn us of what we are about to get into. I am happy that I no longer find appeal in this Gatsby concept but also wish to pay my respect to what it has taught me. I learned that I have a great deal of self-control and that our intuitions and insight can save us from some really bad situations.

    I reflect on these nights and cherish that they are a part of my past. I hold memories of growing close to friends and a lover in these situations very close to my heart and often smile when I remember them. I will never forget the New Years that the roommate and I ended up in our birthday suits with glittery top hats over our junk while playing pong against each other. I will always cherish the Sunday cookouts with horse shoes and fajitas. I will always grow warm when I think back to my first surprise party thrown by someone who loved me even if the surprise was ruined. I know that I usually try to wrap these blogs up with some form of inspiration or call to action but not everything in our life has to be a step forward or a leap in a new directions, sometimes it is perfectly fine to stop, sit, and reflect on where we have been, instead of worrying about where we are going.

 

Who Hasn't Been There?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let us go back to a simpler time together, just for a moment. Take a few deep breaths and think back to when you were younger. Do you remember your favorite toy? Can you picture the layout of your room and that poster on your wall that you thought was so cool? Now remember the feel of your bed and your sheets. Picture yourself lying in that bed with the comforter pulled up.

Imagine it is raining outside, but not just raining, it is a heavy rain hitting your window. The thunder tears through the air and the lighting flashes every so often and illuminates the room while casting long shadows on the walls of every nick-knack. When the thunder fades you can hear a faint thudding sound in the distance. It isn’t a slow thud but it is not fast either, it is just constant, like the tick of a clock. The thunder cracks loudly and scares you out of your bed; you never were a fan of thunder when you were younger.

Now picture yourself walking through that dark room, past your toys and dresser and into the hallway. While you stumble down the hall your path is lit for brief moments by the lightning and then it quickly goes dark again.  You feel your way past the restroom and notice the thud again in the silence.

Thud-Thud-Thud-Thud….

Thud-Thud-Thud-Thud….

Thud-Thud-Thud-Thud….

You notice the rhythmic sound getting louder as you move down the hall. You place your hand against the wall and lean against it as you come to a door. The door is cracked and as you reach to open it a loud boom of thunder tears through the night. Your heart jumps and you stop for a moment, then the lighting ignites the darkness. You see the light cut through the crack in the door and you notice a dark form moving. You stop and stare, curious what it was you saw.

BOOM! More thunder

CRACK! More Lightning

You pier through the slit and notice the shady figure moving up and down, but this time something seems familiar about it. You recognize the shape and notice it moving to the rhythm of the thud. The light doesn’t seem to fade in the room as you look directly at the silhouette and realize what it is. You quickly turn around and run back to bed, jumping under the covers and hiding your face in your pillow...You just witnessed parental sex.

The Very First Post...2.0

 

    I sit here currently eating Beef Stroganoff and binge watching Friends while trying to establish a blog. Why a blog, I don’t know. Chandler just asked his friends, “How do you know if you want to do it in an elevator?” That is a legitimate question, one that deserves answering.


How Do You Know If You Want To Do ”IT” In An Elevator?
   
    The first thing to consider when debating this question is simple… Are you afraid of being caught? Most sensible people in the world are either respectful enough to keep their adult situations behind closed doors, or to afraid to be caught in such throws of passion. Why? Why are we afraid to be caught ass naked in public with someone that makes our heart rate sky rocket more than a 32oz Monster energy drink? It is illegal and costly so that is why…but it is also why it is fun! The excitement of getting caught may be what pushes people to have sex in elevators. At this point I think the answer is simple… and I am also just rambling really to overcome writers block which we will get to. You just know if you want to have sex in an elevator! I must declare that the original question is rather flawed…who is riding an elevator so long that they have time to have sensual, and successful sex in said elevator? Did you somehow manage to reserve an elevator inside of the Empire State Building just so that you can bone for a brief ride to the top? If anything, elevators are more of a four play place and the destination should be your sex spot…aka the roof or lobby!


Writers Block:

    I constantly find myself out in the masses or sitting at work thinking about anything that comes to mind. The World, The Economy, The way that the male and female brains work, and then as I dive deeper I begin to create these thoughts that I want to share. Finally I told myself that I was going to start a blog and relay these thoughts with homes of receiving debate and conversation. The day has come, I am here, now, sitting at this screen and it shines violently back at me with mockery. I am unable to think of a single thing to write about. Instead of addressing the damage Online Dating has done to the dating world or the flaws of musical bigotry all I can manage to muster up is… Sex in an Elevator. The muse is cruel is she not?