'Don't Bail on Me'

I picked up my now non functioning computer from best buy today. That went well.

I didn't run into Peter who consoled me on the phone. This time it was Pedro. Just as nice but not as sweet as Pete. The Geek Squaders do there job well. They are all nerdy techy guys who hate when they run into problems they can't fix. After I explained to Pedro what Peter said on the phone, Pedro said he would take another look at it for me.

For a brief moment I thought he would be able to fix my computer. He kept making those noises one makes when they think they have stumbled on a great discovery. I started to get happy. Damn it I was even getting optimistic. I tucked my debit card back in my pocket for a moment, convinced that Pedro was on the brink of figuring it all out.

But he didn't. He suggested the same thing Peter did and I spent the better half of my time there looking at computers. I am convinced that the HP is the one for me. And not because it is cute and pretty (ok, that may be a reason). But I like what it offers, and dammit, it is cute and pretty and almost looks like a Mac except that it isn't. I am not too thrilled with having to change from XP to Windows 7, but what the hell. At this point the computer will cost around 640.00, not including the warranty. And I may have to get a new damn Anti-virus program because Norton didn't do shit.

Oh, the pains of being older.

I am beginning to think that I am secretly living the life of a 90's sitcom. Where everything bad (though funny) happens to your lovable protagonist. Case in point: The roof in my new pad is shitty. Last week it rained and the ceiling in my landlady's room started leaking. My room was rain free, but still, leaky roofs are not cool. We have had construction people (men) in our house for about 5 days, hacking away at the roof, appearing in front of windows, or more importantly appearing in front of bathroom windows as a certain lovable protagonist was peeing. What?!?! It was the morning, I had to go. I did not notice the construction guy when I sat down. It was only when I realized that there was drilling coming from outside the window that I knew that I was bare assed in front of a stranger. And damn it all to hell, there he was, standing on the roof inches away from me and my pee. I don't know if he saw me, but I have enough of this renovation. enough of it.

And on top of that I have been dubbed a "bailer" at work. Let me explain. I believe that I am a fun person. I laugh a lot. I am spontaneous. And generally a great person to be around. But I am not a fan of hanging out. I don't do plans well. I just like them to happen, and with the people I want them to happen with. When Angie was here, I hung out with her all the time. But she was easy to be around. I didn't feel like anything was forced with her. She liked to have random late night drives around Westchester. She liked waffle houses and feminist literature. She didn't mind going back to her place and just talking. I like those kind of hang out sessions.

But recently as my social life has made a turn upward. I have been requested to hang out by several people. Work people who are slowly becoming friends. But I have in some way or another managed to bail out of this. I get 'sick' or 'my computer dies' or 'i'm snowed in by imaginary snow'. You know the usual.

But recently the people I have bailed on are making a fuss of this. Do I even exist outside of work? Do I not like them? What's going on? Josh, pulled me to the side one day (as your classic sitcom 'guy who knows everything' type) and told me that 'bailers are like the worst. Because you know what happens to them. No one asks them to hang out anymore'.

It's true. Hanging out frightens me. If I can avoid it I will. But I figure with all this free time I have, I minus will try to strengthen my social life. So I don't feel so disconnected. I wonder if this is episode 34 of my life. I just need to come up with a show title at this point. Because the only thing preventing me from crying is laughter. My life is becoming absurd. I get caught on the toilet, I have discussions about bailers to a guy who dressed up like a character from Zelda for Halloween, I cry on the phone to a Geek Squader. Who I then proceed to crush on for the rest of the afternoon because his voice was nice. AND do we need to mention my obsession with McAbs. The day before, he wore a tight white shirt and apart of me died inside. Hardcore.

I need to write a pilot of my life, right now. If those Jersey Shore kids (grown ass adults) can do it, than why can't I. I'm interesting? I'm lovable. I've encountered enough material to warrant some interest.

Yes, this is my life and I hope it get betters. I hope I can find the computer, job, boy, and city of my dreams before 25. I'm still hoping Australia will take me, if this all doesn't work out.

Yeah. Australia.

Time to get out of the library. Tech guy from work is going to back up my hard drive this friday, and maybe (maybe) get the damn thing to run. Maybe.