For some reason, I like that "Ridin' Dirty" song...

Since June 16, 2006, I've accumulated 700 messages of spam in my Yahoo account, and only one or two have gotten into my main folder. I think that's pretty damn impressive.

So, I've felt like an update, so here you go, my avid readers.

Now, the question I'm sure you're all here to have answered: what have I done since May 31, 2006?

Lots of things.

But my memory feels rather shot today because I'm incredibly tired.

In my last blog entry, I said I wouldn't see Rita until June 20th or something. That was a lie. I've not gone more than 7 days this summer without seeing her, and I'm not complaining a bit. Now, one thing I did do was go down to Staten Island for several days. Not surprising, I'm sure. I had a much better time that I did in my last entry. Rita didn't have me staying up until 4 watching her drink with her friends while I felt awkward. I actually did meet more of her friends and I felt much less uncomfortable around them. We all played Cranium and my absolute awfulness at board games made sure we came in DEAD LAST, which is funny, because we answered a lot of questions right. We just couldn't roll the die past one place from where our piece was standing.

Coming back from that, I went to the Nine Inch Nails concert with Zach, Dan, and Anthony. Besides a little drama in the beginning, the concert was boss. It was easily much better sounding than the A Perfect Circle, Shinedown, and Nonpoint/Sevendust concerts I went to. The music was crisp, I could make out all the lyrics, and I could hear by the end of it as well as I could when I got there. My aggressive, NYC-style driving got Anthony and I out of the parking lot incredibly fast because I willingly cut-off everyone in my way and wouldn't let anyone do the same to me.

But, of course, God struck back for my wicked driving ways. I had an asthma attack the next night. I was at work and felt like I couldn't breath. I went to the hospital, and after spending 3 hours in the waiting room, the doctors finally admitted me. The ran some tests and did some X-Rays, and after a while, they concluded that I had asthma. I've got an inhaler now. Rita surprised me by coming up that day and visiting me to make sure I was alright and just cause she missed me (it had been 4 days since we had seen each other at that point). It's unfortunate that I had to work every day she was here. I didn't get to spend enough time with her, but she did come to work with me and hang out, which was cool. It made work a lot more interesting than talking to the normal Rockhill staff. Anthony and I hung out a few times after my asthma attack. We've been playing The Warriors on my Xbox. The game is brutally violent, but entertaining, and certainly better than Rockstar's last riot/gang simulator, State of Emergency. We're going to get that shit done.

She left again, as she always does unfortunately, and I had to wait until this past weekend to see her again, which was another 4 days. I drove down on Friday night, and the weekend was off to a rough start. The bridge I normally cross was closed for "deck rehibilitation," so I had to drive around New Jersey trying to find a bridge to get me into Staten Island. It wasn't until 2:30 that I finally pulled up to Rita's house. At this point, I was very ready for bed and that's directly where I went.

The next day, we were to attend Rita's aunt Catherine's wedding and then Olga's birthday party. Though it was raining, the wedding was nice. The church was impressive. The reception was outside, under a giant tent, and though it was a bit muddy, that was nice too. It was right on the water and you could see the Verizano bridge in the background. Rita and I danced a bit, but we were both still tired from the night before, and Rita had been kept busy with chores during the wedding and the reception. As for me, I tried to help Rita as best I could, but for the most part, I just sat and talked to one of her aunt's friends about school and being a stay-at-home parent.

After the cake was finally served, Rita and I attempted to take off. We went back to her house to get the housekeys for her Aunt Catherine's house, where Rita is staying this week to babysit her dogs. But, we couldn't find the keys, so we had to drive back to the reception and find out where they were from Rita's mom, and somehow, we ended up having to do more chores for the reception. Rita was not a happy Rita as these detours made us ever more late for Olga's party. Finally, we made our way to Brooklyn for Olga's party. It was at a Russian resturant called National that was very fancy and very strange. I have to say though, I kind of liked the Russian music. We got there and ordered food and watched the stageshow they had going on. Now, I don't know how to dance. I'm white, 6'2" tall, awkward, and entirely heterosexual. I have no chance at ever being good at dancing. But I got down to that funky Russian music. I was jumping all over, kicking my feet around, having a good time. I enjoyed it. And it took me completely out of my bad mood. I was spinning Rita around wildly and I was all sweaty and gross after. Apparently, I tired her out, because she wanted to go shortly thereafter. Perhaps she was embarassed by my dancing and had seen enough. I don't really know. One thing I noticed at the party that made me laugh and think of Freshmen: people taking pictures holding empty bottles of liquor with great pride on their face, like they're the only ones that have finished the bottle in the existance of the world. I mean, I've been gay about my alcohol before, but at least I've never taken a picture holding an empty bottle.

We left Brooklyn and drove to Manhatten. We found her aunt's apartment and after a run-in with the police because I get frustrated when driving and make poor decisions, I paid for parking in a garage and we went to her aunt's house. The dogs were adorable, but one was a little afraid of us. We finally got him out from under the bed and took them for a walk. They were all about the walk. Then we once again went to bed, which was something I was ready for.

The next day, we ended up oversleeping and Rita was several HOURS late for work. I can't say anything I guess, because I've been horribly late for work. Fuck, I've forgotten that I've even had to work and didn't open the store. She works for the Staten Island Yankees, so while she was working, I watched the game. It was pretty solid. I like baseball. Even though Rita was several hours late, we didn't miss any of the game.

We went back to Rita's house that night, because her aunt was home so she didn't need us to housesit for that night. Rita and I just chilled out for most of the night. One of our new hobbies is busting out the camera and taking pictures in the dark of each other. The flash is incredibly painful at first, but it's funny seeing the pictures of us recoiling in pain from it and it gets you in the mood to take more pictures once you've adjusted. Then we went to bed again. Rita had to work the next day.

We got up to go back to the stadium when Rita's mom reminded us that we had a banquet to go to to celebrate her mom being awesome at helping people. So, Rita asked work for the day off, and they granted that. Then we went off to Applebees for dinner, which was delicious, but the service was awful. We got back to her house, got dressed for the banquet, and left. Her mom was scary as she drove us there. Like Rita, she seems to be chronically late. We somehow arrived at the marina in one piece. The affair was nice, and I won a picture frame as a door prize. I don't think it was socially appropriate to cheer as loudly as I did.

After the banquet, we had to go back to Manhatten. Let me just pull you out of the chronological order of this story. I'll Tarantino it a bit here. Rita just called me to let me know that last night, her car was broken into and her laptop was stolen. Her aunt's neighborhood was sketchy, with graffiti all over the buildings around it, trash just strewn on the streets. The thought of living downstate has repeatidly crossed my mind because of the work I'm thinking of getting into, but I absolutely would not live in Manhatten. BUH. The appartment itself wasn't bad, but the neighborhood was too sketchy for my tastes.

Anyhow, back to the timeline. We ended up getting off the wrong way on the Verizano bridge and ended up in Queens. All I know about Queens, I've learned from Nas and 50 Cent, so I was a little nervous. We drove around for hours, trying to find our way back to Brooklyn. We finally got to her aunt's apartment at 2:30, but the only spot we could find was only until 7 in the morning. So, 6:30 rolls around, and some truck driver in the street is yelling loudly and honking his horn and revving his engine. Once again, the day I have to leave, I get 4 hours of sleep. Fuck Manhatten.

So, we left and went to Staten Island and got breakfast. We went back to her house, and I managed to squeeze in an hour long nap before I had to go to work. Work was uneventful and gay and boring. I didn't want to be there at all. I was hoping to get today off by changing with another guy, but he wasn't down for that plan. After work, I went off and exploded some fireworks with Jared, Kelly, Brett, Art, and the quiet guy they're friends and then ran through the woods from the cops for a while. It was worth the risk. Jared is a man of fireworks. For some reason, the 24-hour-a-day McDonalds was closed last night. Very confusing.

Rita just called me to inform me that last night, some scumbags broke into her car and stole some stuff, including her laptop. I really don't want her to stay there anymore and her father doesn't want it either, so she might be coming up with the dogs to stay here for a few days. What a bunch of fucking assholes. If I only could have been there, to catch them in the act. The things I would have done to those motherfuckers are beyond words.

Alright, so that ends this installment. I hope I didn't leave anything out.