It's not like I meant to...

Posted by Kyle Jacobson , Saturday, May 22, 2010 7:07 PM




  The following is almost based off a true story:  


      Have you ever been at a party and wanted desperately to grab the bass guitar sitting next to you and smash it repeatedly into the wood piano?
      The wind grew fierce as the moon made it's escape from the mountains. We followed the trail of smoke rising above the rooftops. The warm glow bounced across the houses, playing tricks in the night. The invitation said nine thirty. It was nearly ten. We snuck slowly along the house in a "I might rob you" leisurely squamp (it looks just like it sounds.) We heard the voices growing louder with every step. I couldn't pick them out individually. It was like listening for a dime in a trash compactor. We were quite unsettled by the shared internal question between the three of us, "is this the right place?" There are only two ways to find the answer to that question. We could: A. dress up like phone repairmen, knock on the door with a "cellular emergency". We would then split up and search the house for pictures, journals, birth certificates, etc. This might then give us a clue as to whose house it is. We would then deduct if this were the right house or not. Or B. we could walk around back and talk to the group of people sitting around the fire to see if they were our friends. In 20-20 hindsight, we should have probably picked B... Turns out it was the right house.




  There are many different levels of how well you can know someone. We'll put it on a scale from 2 to 9.5. Nine and a half being the people you know really really, almost too much, well. And two being the people you don't know at ALL. For instance, almost everyone in China and most all of your facebook friends. Anywhere between 3 and 7 are the " I kinda know who you are, so I guess that means we have to talk about our current lives and future plans and we quickly, internally realize how we are currently doing nothing and our future plans involve Star Craft, ordering a cheese pizza, pig wrestling and falling asleep in a construction yard. After deeply pondering this, we slip off alone into dark corners contemplating, 'Is that the reason I got the restraining order* from that distantly cute girl I used to stalk or maybe the reason was from when I made her flan that was molded into a surprisingly accurate representation of her face?" kinds of people. We'll just say there were a few 4's and a couple 5's and several 2's. The occasional 7's and 8's. And a really cute 2 that I halfway wish was an 8. Then the 1 came in and totally ruined the party.
     The story of this moral is that if you don't have confidence, you don't have anything.
                          Improbably,
                                                 Kyle
*With the sweet new privacy settings on facebook, it makes situations like this alright.
   


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