Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


You know, there's apparently different idioms for every stage of your life...

When you turning approximately anywhere between 3 to 5, you have probably been told something along the lines of "Wow! You're a BIG boy/girl now!", thereby marking the abandoning of "baby-like" behaviour and the entering of a slightly more independent stage of your life. The phrase, whatever it may be, is one often marked with extreme excitement, thus encouraging and assuring the positive aspects of the more "grown up" comportment and lifestyle.

The next stage is marked around years 9 to 11. The catch phrases are no longer unisex but are often accented by genderized statements like, "Oh my! You are growing up into such a beautiful little lady!" or "Woah, buddy! You're getting pretty big! And strong!" and thereby enforcing certain cultural gender perspectives. You can note the emphasis on aesthetics and behaviour are presented for girls, meanwhile stature and physicality is presented for the boys. Almost a coming of sexual age (biologically), or what many consider the beginning stages of either manhood or womanhood. For girls it is often marked with their first menstrual cycle. Unfortunately, for boys it tends to become a bit more ambiguous and relies more on culturalization with other men, which has (in my opinion) had effects on the male gender in the grander view. In the past, however, I believe it was often marked by a boy's first sexual intercourse with the opposite sex.

There's a couple other stages in between, but for sake of time I won't go into them. In either case... you catch my drift.

However, I do have to say one last thing, before I get to my point:

Usually most of these periods or stages in your life also contain the phrase "What's it feel like to be (insert age here)?"
I've often felt like this question is such a copout saying to simply have start a conversation on the birthday, instead of leaving the other person with nothing to comment on after being told (for the tenth time) 'Happy Birthday!'. You know, like that awkward feeling you get when people are singing you the happy birthday song. No one really knows what to say or do. Do you sing along? Do you sit there and gloat over your triumph in being birthed? Or do you simply stare at people singing at you in silence and with a polite smile on your face? This is also VERY similar (I've discovered) the obligatory "I'm sorry" statement after you have lost a loved one. Again. What does one say or do? What does proper etiquette dictate on such matters? Does one simply respond with a thank you? Are you meant to start crying at the sound of such heart felt words? Do you discussed MORE about your loss for the hundreth time in order to emphasize the feeling of loss? Or do you (like I did on numerous accidental occassions) say "it's okay" as if you're responding to someone who, without meaning, bumped into you and spilled a bit of your coffee, and irrevocably cause the person who you've just told "it's okay" to become confused and a bit disheartened (if not genuinely upset)?

Needless to say, I believe such phrases should be struck from our culture!





Well, I've arrived here at year 23 of my life...
And I've discovered that the phrase for this new stage of my life is,

"Wow! You're getting old!"

Gee. Thanks. I don't FEEL old... I actually feel quite vibrant, on what's supposed to be a joyous occassion, but thanks for bringing down my mood with reality, huh? What happened to "You're becoming such a fine young man!" I miss THOSE comments.

Well, too bad, I said. Frankly, I'm NOT old. I'm quite young and dagnabit, I feel it.

Today has been one of my best days of my life. I'm quite sure of it.

I think it all began with a phone call. From my dad. Who would of thought, huh? I mean, the pompous jerk of a father who often forgot my birthday actually started my day off right. He called. I was half expecting him to forget entirely now that my mom's not there to remind him. I actually even debated calling HIM just in case, so neither he or I could feel bad, and I could just pretend that I beat him to the punch of him calling me. But nope! He remembered! And he was the first to call! Early in the morning.... but still!
Then the day just continued to get better. Texts, phone calls, facebook messages, they all kept pouring in. They all remembered! Well... not all of them. Some were reminded by Helena, but I didn't care. That only meant that I had a best friend who kicked ass and decided to remind people. To top it off, it's not like those people had to text or call after Helena reminded them if they didn't want to.
Then I had chick filet, which I love.
Then Ana, one of my old youth, invited me to Jason's Deli for dessert, which was great! I love Ana, she's like a little sister to me. Seriously.
Then I went and spent time with my brother and his family, where I got fed even more. My nephew drew me a Wolverine birthday card... I love that frickin kid. I think he actually TRACED Wolverine from somewhere, but it was so squiggly I couldn't really tell. I mean, the kid's like 9. My niece gave me a tiny little paper bag with 5 pennies and a tootsie roll and her own birthday card.

When I left there to pick up Helena from class, I got a text from someone who asked me if I got good stuff this year... and I realized... I didn't, but I DID. The things I got where far better than ANYTHING anyone could of bought me. It was trully amazing.

I may have also gotten a birthday present from my mom... I know this sounds LAME and overused type of stories of people who miss someone so much that they think that EVERYTHING is from them, but seriously, this was just odd to me. Hardly anyone knows that I have a secret affinity to moths. But my mom knew. She knew I LOVED moths and that somehow they liked me. I've grown accustomed to moths landing on me and staying on me without any fear for extended periods of time. I also love trees and natures and the woods (if you haven't noticed by my background). SO. When I got home earlier today and noticed a piece of bark on the center of my screen door, I got confused. As I got closer I noticed that it was in fact a VERY large moth, the size of my palm, that had patterns to resemble wood. It was BEAUTIFUL. I was amazed by it. I quickly caught it with a large glass cup and slid a paper underneath it. I expected it to flutter like many other moths or butterflies, but instead calmly moved it's feet, allowing me to capture it with ease. I was ready to place it in the freezer (which you must to if you choose to preserve and collect bugs, if you didn't know), when I decided I couldn't do it. It was simply to magnificent. So, I went back outside to let it loose and when I lifted the cup off the paper... it stayed. Didn't even flutter. I nudged it and still didn't move. I decided to gently place it in a plant near by, which I did. I then went back inside to get a few things before going over to my brother's house. As I was stepping through the opening screen door, I immediately felt random flutterings all over my chest and arms. I looked down to see the moth having momentarily landed on my chest, it then flew back out through the open screen door and back onto the center of the outside of the door. I closed the door. The moth remained.

It was a beautiful day out today, too.
Not hot. Not cold.

Amazing!

Well! My brain is closing up shop for the night. So thank you for wishing me a happy birthday and actually reading every neurotic thing I wrote and often write!

Gnight!




OH! And I almost forgot! I talked to Robyn and she told me a hilarious story about an awkward phone conversation with Nikki, my ex. Friggin hilarious.

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My head feels kinda funky.

I might be getting sick. I contemplated the irony of the possibility of me getting swine flu and dying from it. I doubt I will, but still. Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants?

Nevertheless, I'm up playing Zuma (For those of you that don't know, it's an addictive game at popcap.com. You should check it out.) and I realize how this is actually the highlight of my day. Just me, playing some game. Trying to beat the score. Trying to reach my goal. And then it hits me, how sad is that?
Unfortunately, I also answered myself.
It's not as sad as what I'm trying not to think about. Not as sad as what's really getting to me... Sure it's birthday, sure nobody's coming to a birthday party I'm not having BECAUSE no one's showing up, sure I don't really have friends anymore, but that's not what got to me.
I looked at their wedding pictures. There they were, happily ever aftering. And it got to me. Like the tree sap that sticks to your skin and even soap & water have difficulties defeating it. And it's still there, as I type, this thought of "Why wasn't I there?" Why wasn't I invited? Did they consider me that bad a friend? What possible wrong could I have done to merit this, on their most happiest of days. Am I that guy that they say "Well, we definitely don't want to invite him!" or did I even get that? Was I even thought of? Me. The one who may have possibly set them straight! Me! The one who did my best for both of them! And it clings to me and it won't let go; This nagging feeling that they're not the only ones. This isn't an isolated situation. And it comes to mind the things others have said... The excuses. The diverted comments of "well... you still have the people from church..." when I bring up my lack of people. My lack of friends. My lack of love.

And all at once, it dawns on me.

What am I doing here?!

What am I doing here? I mean, really? What happens now? I get a job finish school and magically people will come into my life? Even then! What am I doing here? I don't want to stay here! I'm planning on leaving at one point in my life anyway! So what am I doing? Why am I staying? I need to leave! I need to LIVE!
I don't want to leave her behind. Sometimes... I think she is why I stay.
But every day I stay, a little more gets chipped, a little more gets cracked.
You see... if I really do want a clean slate... well, I need to wipe off my past. Everything that drags me down. And you know what? It's nearly everyone in my past. It may be my fault, it could be theres. Or maybe it's like what the groom, my ex-close friend, used to say, "...it's a two way road."
If I hadn't spent all my tears here in this place, if I hadn't had so much tragedy in this miserable city already, I would cry now. For Chris, Junior, and Mandy; the friendships I've accidently left behind. For Robyn, and everything I never helped her to become. For a family that's broken and can find no solace in me or who I've become. And for everyone else who has no clue to what's trully going on.

I'm sorry. But I have to go.

Maybe this is why I can't find a job...

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