It was a beautiful day. It was also fuckin' hot, and I was celebrating the one-year anniversary of the last time I got laid.

...

yeah.

To be fair to myself, I was in a relationship for some of the months. Well, two, actually. Anyway, I had my real reasons, too. Like, from last July 4th to about March of this year, I was busy trying to recover from a car crash, finishing up the last of Folsom Lake, and, of course, pursuing my favorite hobby of roleplaying. Something about twitching and writhing on the ground in fucking agony really tended to make any sort of sex drive I had fade into nonbonerifficness.

Speaking of the crash. I kept dealing with AAA – yes, they get named, because fuck you for not dealing with me in good faith, AAA, fuck you - and did not like them. When I asked that they cut me a check for all of the out-of-pocket expenses, they informed me that they couldn't write more than one check. Right. Anyway, I dealt with (fuck you) AAA , my parent's insurance, and then our new insurance with a steadily growing urge to inform everyone how ragingly incompetent they were at fucking doing anything even remotely resembling being the faintest bit of the shadow of helpful. Fuck you, AAA.

Naturally, my injury healed by about October. As fate would have it, I healed wrong, and required more physical therapy. I liked the new insurance better, as not only my doctor actually cared – not the act of pretending to care, but actually caring – but my physical therapist was a very polite and agreeable man who fixed me up in a matter of weeks. One fine summer day, I got a letter from (fuck you) AAA.

“Blah blah blah make you an offer blah blah...”

No, wait a second, that didn't look right. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and looked at the insultingly small figure. It wouldn't even cover our expenses.

“Ahahaha, go to hell.”

Exact quote, by the way. After ranting for about ten minutes about (fuck you) AAA, I got on the phone and called up a lawyer. He sounded shocked at the offer I'd gotten. It was either a good act, or he actually was surprised. I leaned towards the latter. The paperwork was in motion, so pretty soon, I'd be having a free year of Sac State. Oh! I'm officially three years from teaching your kids about history now. Possibly biology as well, because the more credentials I get, the more jobs and more pay I can get.

The Orientation was actually pretty cool. Wandering around in my new pink board shorts – real men wear pink because they don't give a shit if some jackass thinks they're gay – and such, I was kinda surprised by the sheer amount of DO WANT looks coming my way from the women. One in particular actually flirted like hell with me, although I was absolutely oblivious to that fact until about an hour before Orientation ended. Sadly, I couldn't get her number to go out for some drinks, mostly because she wasn't there. Oh well, I'd see her again. Also, fuck you, AAA.

Well, I was also dating someone, but again, long distance. I wasn't the one who asked, surprisingly. SweetestPerfection – who could also be called CrazyBitch, and I meant that in the nicest possible way – had actually asked me out on Valentine's Day. Once again aided by Zen, I said “fuck it” and we'd been dating mostly-happily since. True to my fetishes, she was a Southern chick who wore glasses. I'd need to get her in stockings soon. We'd had a few fights, but somehow or another kept coming back. Not that we broke up, just quit being assholes to each other.

Surprisingly, she'd given me a free pass with anyone, as long as I didn't tell her. This was an interesting dilemma. I knew she meant it, but if she slept with another guy I'd dump her instantly. I had no right to mess around without being a hypocrite. On the other hand, free pass with anyone and she didn't want to know. I'd probably get the most use out of it by imagining how I'd use it.

In the roleplay world that we shared, her character and mine were married and had three kids. Well, eight in total. My character's oldest daughters from his first wife, his oldest son from his second, and then the triplets went with her character's twin boys from her character's previous husband. I was pretty proud of that roleplay: it'd taken off and was over twenty five hundred pages. Google “The Black Sand Bar” and you'll see it. I played Rhoslyn Vernal, an Unseelie faerie who owned and operated the Black Sand Bar, sold guns and drugs to whoever asked nicely enough, and who enjoyed nothing better than interfering in the lives of mortals. And by faerie, I don't mean the little Navi/Tinkerbelle cute companions. I mean bloodthirsty humanoid beings of sex and magic who have basically no understanding of the concept of empathy at best. Author avatar? Oh fuck no. I'm squicked by my character more often than not and think he's a jackass. Also, fuck you, AAA.

And so, that brings us to now.

My shoulders weren't sore, but there was a residual echo of a post-workout there. Two weeks ago, I had started upon what is pretty much the Epic Slacker's Guide To Looking Buff, and after a total of maybe an hour working out, had gained 2 inches of muscle just about everywhere on my body. IT was pretty badass, as a half-inch had come from Thursday's workout. I was hungry, kinda bored, and otherwise being *idle*. After downing a glass of water, I sat back down and sighed, wondering what happened to Rockstar.

About two or three days ago when LoudStoner was chilling out with me, Rockstar had called saying he was going back to Iraq. A week before that, I'd been up there as him and ButterflyLady were hanging out post-breakup. She seemed to have figured out a lot about herself, and I was pleased and shocked by her deciding to stand on her own for the sake of being able to see her kid. And for herself. And then Rockstar calls and says he wants to go kill people in Iraq and that she's messing with his head. Sigh. I hated that he was going off to fight an immoral and illegal war that was destroying this country.

Not even a change in “leadership” helped. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. I saw little practical difference between Obama and Bush. Sure, one was a half-white Democrat who made a lot of speeches and had a lot of nice ideals and unfulfilled campaign promises while the other was a half-wit Republican who made a bunch of lies and had driven the country straight off a cliff with his faggotry, but still. We were still in Vietraq and Afghanistnam, affectionately known as the “graveyard of empires”. We were still handing out massive bailouts to corporations who didn't need our money, the dollar was still being worth less and less, people were still losing their jobs, we still depended on foreign oil – hell, we depended on oil even though it's a buggywhip industry, the Traitor Act was still in place, there were more tax cuts, and weed still wasn't legal. Also, fuck you, AAA.

I was bored, and considering playing a game. Of course, a lot of my PS2 library had vanished after the Rockstar/ButterflyLady split, but I had most of my favorites. Still wanted the Medal of Honor one back, but yeah right. I doubted I'd see most of those again, and it annoyed me greatly. It's what I got for loaning them out. Computer games were also out, in that my dad and I had finished an epic game of Civ2, using bombers and tanks against musketeers (and eventually fighters against bombers and cruise missiles against tanks when they stole tech) in the 1700's. Total Annihilation was not what I was in the mood to play, nor was Tribes.

After a quick check in the Black Sand, I shrugged and gave up. Writing this had been a nice return, but it was summer, I was bored, and home alone. Nothing more needed to be written.