What Tans and Farting Have in Common... Or Don't

I tried to post yesterday, and it was long, and it was amazing and insightful, but it was also erased because of dial up service. Good times. I'm not even going to try to say what it was that I said simply because I don't feel like it.

I worked today though. It was yard work so it was something that I was good at. I enjoy a fair amount of yard work because there is just something about working the earth with your hands that provides a satisfaction unlike any other. You can stand back when you are finished and say "Yeah, I did that." But I'm getting a pretty killer farmer's tan as a result of Africa and today's seven hour outdoor workfest. Chicks dig the tan though, but that's more of a curse really. A girl might be interested in me in the summer or early fall, but as soon as my tan goes, magically so does she. Happens almost every year. I mean I've never gotten far enough in a relationship to where it's even okay to simply fart in her presence! As a result, most of my dating experience has been uncomfortably bloated, but I don't care enough to go to a tanning bed. It's their loss really. They will never know what great joy can be found with a pasty white Nathan.

Related, I suppose, is the battle I have declared on myself. I will not date girls from Belmont this year by simple principle. It does not work for me. It's too distracting and out of control for me to have a close distance relationship with a chick at the same school... But knowing me and the vast stack of medical bills resulting from having to have my foot surgically removed from my mouth, I wouldn't be suprised, rather disappointed, if I ended up being a moron again. We'll see. I anticipate the year though and can't wait to go back to school. I have a steady job there, friends to hang out with whenever I want that are less that a few steps away, and my own place to sprawl out and relax. It's nice.

Right now I'm putting efforts into growing back the glory hair (long hair). It is in perrill though. Grace is getting married in like two weeks and I fear she might demand me to cut it. I would be very much saddened.

But okay, here's my discouragement of the day. I try to call someone to talk to them because I think they would be concerened to hear about my trip like they were before I left, but I end up looking like a rediculous moron because I attempt calling so many times, giving thought to the possibility that they might have missed the last two messages I left or they might have just totally and legitimately been too busy to respond. And it's totally more than one friend that does this to me. There are like three! I think maybe I'm learning a few things from the past FIVE YEARS of this discouragement... or maybe not. Maybe I just don't care as long as they don't mind going through all of my annoying messages. Yeah... now that I mention it... I guess I really don't care all that much. They usually have a good excuse. I wrote a song anyways, that I might leave on my next message. It goes like this...

" When I leave a simple message
You never respond
So I thought I'd be unorthadox and write it as a song
With the hopes that it will work
And you'll call me back you jerk
So we can continue
So we can continue
So we can continue
To be
Good
Friends... (end music) Sike, just kidding, I'm not mad. Call me."

I wrote that while I was clipping bushes in the hot hot sun. Explains alot. So now that I have addressed my day and vented my discouragement, I shall clean up and eat. It will be delightful. Peace and love my pretties!