The Name's Bond, Johnny5 Bond (Part III)

Here's where things get a little weird.

I felt like I actually left my body. Having an "out of body experience" is always an eye rolling statement because it sounds like a farce, but I swore at the time and since then that it actually did happen. I just remember sort of watching the roof of the car in a decidely removed vantage point where I didn't really note what was happening, but I was content.

Not knowing what actually happened at the time, I can only recount from later recordings what really happened. We slipped at the crest of a small hill on wet leaves, losing the rear tire traction and rotating my side first across the double yellow line. My side went through a windy road yellow sign, 20-30 feet of a stone wall. The trunk rammed into a telephone poll, and then we rotated back into the road, finally coming to rest facing the right way on the right side of the line. It was like some giant had just come in and clubbed the hell out of the car, and moved it ahead 200 feet.

At this point, I came rushing back to awareness in the car. Being an Audi, the side curtain and passenger airbags had all blown, which was definitely a good thing to supplement my seatbelt. However, the lights inside of the car were on, and there was airbag smoke everywhere. I was panicked because some part of me registered two things: first, the engine might be on fire, and secondly, I couldn't breathe.

I thought maybe initially it was the smoke until realizing GD was speaking to me and I was struggling for each breathe.

Oh God, why can't I breathe?

Ramping up to full out panic rapidly, I tried to undo the seatbelt. It wasn't working, so in a rush of adrenaline, I ripped it open. No latch, I used force and ripped the damn thing apart. I'm no hero, and I'm not a body builder, but adrenaline can make you pretty impressive by any standard. I'm still struggling for air, trying to open the car door. Later I found out that the sign and the stone wall had crushed it in pretty good, so it was quite stuck. Still feeding on that adrenaline, however, I shouldered into the door and got it open.

"J5, what's wrong, WHAT'S WRONG??"

"I.... can't.... breathe.... Can't... catch... my...breath...."

My lungs are wheezing and it feels like I'm trying to inhale napalm. I'm still in full anxiety, and I'm just barely trying to find a place to alight. Not really having a true memory of what happened still, it seems that I went behind the car to meet GD in our conversation, and fell to my knees there.

Breathe, J5. Come on man, control your body, use your mind. Breathe. Breathe. Breeeeaaaaatthhhhhe.

The biological cork popped, and the oxygen started to race back in. Finally. Relief. I was pleased and relieved, finally, it was over.

I was wrong.

The Name's Bond, Johnny5 Bond (Part II)

Girl Driving, or GD for short, was excited because she had her father's car that weekend, which happened to be an Audi. I also had a reputation that still lingered for being what people called "a driver." This affable label, for those that are reclusive hideaways, is applied to those that at one point drove fast and liked speed. Unfortunately, even though I had smartened up, the label still stuck.

"So how are you handling Recent Ex [RE] being here, J5?"

"I'm managing. Having Flirting Girl around is making it a helluva lot easier, without a doubt."

"She's definitely all over you. Just be careful you're not really rude in front of RE, it's not really fair."

"Yeah, I know, but she keeps eyeing me and it's really frustrating. I keep trying to sneak off so I don't feel like she's hawking me the whole time."

"Just be careful."

"Ok."

At this point, we're barely 2 minutes from the party, and we're cruising along. I'm nice and... relaxed in the passenger seat, admiring the night flying by outside without being able to truly mentally record it. I'm parsing through a lot of feelings and information right now, flying between feeling like a pimp, and totally missing what I formerly had.

"How cool is this car?" GD said.

"Really cool. It seems like it's pretty fast."

And here's where it slowly dawned on me that's not something you say to a girl in Dad's car, especially when she's competitive by nature and a bit of a tomboy.

"Yeah," GD said, "it is fast. Check it out."

I was estimating in my head by the feeling of the car the speeds she was accelerating through. 40...45...50...55... Maybe it was slower, it's hard to tell really from the passenger seat, but my mind was screaming out

TOO FAST!!!! YOU'RE GOING TOO FAST!!

These are not, mind you, highway roads. These are 25 mph speed limit roads, windy, dark, a fresh coat of rain, and during November, with leaves abound. I know these roads well, and I know that this isn't right.

"GD, can you slow down a little? You're making me nervous."

"It's fine, we're in an Audi. They're built for this."

Far be it from me to be a little whining girl, I shut my mouth and suck it up. But it doesn't take long.

"Oh shit," I say, noticing how it comes out with an almost perverse tone of calm.

"What? What is... OH SHIT!!!!"

I heard the tires screech, and my body actually relaxed. There was nothing I could do.

The Name's Bond, Johnny5 Bond (Part I)

A few years ago, I had one of those nights: a two ex-girlfriend night. Two of the most "influential" (context is left to the reader) women in my life were on my path in the evening, one I had just recently separated with and one that I had a long time ago that had been my first real emotionally substantial relationship.

Although I had driven my mind to a point that I believed I was capable of handling the situation, the truth of the matter was that I was totally unprepared. And being a young, stupid guy at this point,

...have I really gained that much more wisdom?...

I decided that a few beers would help alleviate the tension I felt. Easy to do and easily accomplished, the first encounter with the older ex was hard but bearable, and I managed my way out not particularly ridden with new emotional scars.

Well, why not a few more beers to prep for part 2?

Sure, why not, sounds like a great plan.

Off I went to the local diner to have a few. Keep in mind, it's like a family restaraunt there, so having a few beers is about as low as one can go in terms of classiness. It's well lit, people bring children, and I had no shame. After packing my bags, so to speak, filled with liquid courage, I got a ride to the next party.

I showed up strong, confident, and bull-headed. In no way would I show an ounce of weakness, a pinch of regret, nor a smidgen of trepidation. I would, with full temerity, have a good time.

I continue to drink. I'm flirting with people I probably shouldn't be flirting with, but they're not exactly ignoring my advances. I'm being that idiot guy, but my sensibility is tainted by my need to protect whatever emotional strength I have left.

So there I was, living it up, and partying like a rock star. And there was my ex, whose face would exasperatingly pop out at me from the crowd in my now ever-growing fog, that I couldn't seem to ignore. At this point, I've already fallen into the pushes from another interloper who defiantly was flirting shamelessly with me.

Man, this sure doesn't hurt.

But the truth is always masked by interpretation, and eventually, the worst thing at that juncture happened. The party ran out of booze. I grabbed a female friend of mine, and beeseched my situation.

"Can you drive me back to my house to get more beer?"

"Do you really need it?"

"No, I don't, but it'll help the party to keep going, and it'll give me a chance to clear my head. Besides, in the grand scheme of things, I'm actually having fun and don't want it to end yet."

"You sure are. Fine, let's go for a drive."

"Thanks!"

Immediately after this, the girl who was intent on mixing it up pinned me against the car for a smooch before I took off. I thought I was subtle, but I later heard that my ex was watching from the balcony. Whoops.

I got into the car, and we took off.

Bullets That Aren't Bad For You

A couple of things worth mentioning and checking out:

• Have you seen the Trashman's on going story? You should.
• An old but developing story: telekinesis may be coming to a store near you. Two years ago, scientists already developed a method of motor cortex implants that allowed a a monkey can move a cursor with just its thoughts. Imagine the future possibilties: parapeligics that can have cybernetic prosthetics, a whole new labor force, or even, as a friend an I discussed, the possibilities of virtual reality.
• There's some industry buzz that Google may be considering getting into the IM market. I bet AOL is getting a little shaky at just the discussion of that.
• Ray Charles passed away this year, but his legacy will always live on. Especially now that he has an album that was recently released, with guest appearences by musicians Bonnie Raitt, Gladys Knight, Johnny Mathis, Van Morrison, Natalie Cole, Michael McDonald, James Taylor, Norah Jones, B.B. King, and Elton John.

  ''I thought it was time to have some of the friends that I love and artists that I admire come into my studio and sing with me live, the way we did it in the old days,'' Charles writes in the liner notes.

  I have to get my hands on this.
• This flu vaccine shortage is a little troubling. I hope for the health and safety of those who truly need it the most.
• Social security is giving a 2.7% increase for cost of living, mostly to be eaten up by medicare. By the time I'm ready to get SS, there might be very little left. But I'm already planning on that anyway.
• I decided to see if I could reverse engineer the picture of Sloth and the Dastard that Sloth posted on her site. Here's what I discoverd:
  
  
  

Duet On The Radio

I was sitting in the car the other night, thinking about my life, when this song comes on that I had forgotten about. The song is by Seether with Amy Lee from Evanescence, and is called "Broken". The lyrics are awesome, but the song is even better.

It's almost like an epiphany when a song somehow touches a part of you in an ineffable way. I'm not sure the lyrics hold up to what I feel on paper, but in the song, with the melody and the way it feels, well, that's a different story.

I'm not sure how to express it, but I just felt like it was important to acknowledge somehow. It reminds me of the old style duets, only modernized. Simple, effective, driven, and most important, resplendent.

Broken by Seether ft. Amy Lee

Guy:
I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away
I keep your photograph and I know it serves me well
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

Both:
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

Guy:
You've gone away, you don't feel me, anymore

Girl:
The worst is over now and we can breathe again
I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away
There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

Both:
[x2]
'Cause I'm broken when I'm open
And I don't feel like I am strong enough
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

You've gone away
You don't feel me here anymore

Know Thy Neighbor

Want to be one of them nosy types? I know you do. If you feel the need to find out who donated money to presidential canidates or parties, by all means, go to work.

It's funny to see the divisions just in my town and my old stomping grounds.

Note: I've stayed decidedly neutral about my politics. Can you do the same?

10,000 Hits And A New Design

I've officially had ten thousand hits! I'm thoroughly amazed at this.

In light of the amount of visits and the upcoming Hallow's Eve, I've done a major redesign, including some spooky (alright, maybe not) colors. I want to thank all of the people who visit, especially those of you that leave comments good and bad. It definitely spurs me to continue delivering whatever it is I deliver to the web.

Thanks especially to the few who always check in and have something to say. The blogland family is a wonderous thing.

Fall In New England

Picture it:

It's a brisk 50 degrees, the sun is setting in the western sky. The wind is blowing nicely enough to barely rustle your hair, and you are experiencing the duality of cool breeze and warm sun. The sky has a slight orange tint added to it's normal yellow and blue saturation. It's comfortable wearing a sweater, and comfortable to not wear one. The leaves drift down from trees in a spectrum of colors, and the moment seems to linger in your olfactory senses like warm apple pie.

I'll walk outside on these days, pop in my Sony Fontopia ear buds, turn on my Rio Nitrus, light up a butt, and just watch 10 minutes pass by like a dream with a soundtrack.

This is quintessential New England. For all of those that don't have the experience, it's a very Buddhist-like enlightenment where nature becomes an element of man so intrinsic, that it is hard to discern metaphysically where one ends and the other begins.

The loquacious interruptions of the inane evaporate into the abyss, tightening the oscillation of aplomb by trimming the ascendancy of stress, and releasing the spirit to Mother Nature's enveloping embrace.

This amalgamation, however, is agitated by the fervor of my nostalgia, and this nostalgia is tainted with happiness and slight melancholy concurrently. The power of memory is undoubtedly influential, but this nostalgia in this season, for me, is almost piercing. It is, in essence, a review of my life piecemeal and totalitarian, and I am my own judge.

To break from my linguistic narcissism momentarily, this nostalgia I'm talking about is overpowering, sometimes to the point where I totally lose what's happening around me, my current environment, to the recycling of old thoughts and feelings. Traditionally, especially in Eastern cultures and philosophy, fall is viewed as the season of change and letting go during the twilight in the cycle of life. This is a very apt description of the nostalgia, where I seek within closure and answers to things in the past that I may have ignored previously.

It's also the time when I feel the most single and isolated.

I love fall. It's a very energetic and thought-provoking time in New England, but it also raises many questions from many lines of reasoning. Consider it almost as chronological ADD, wherein memories fly into my mind with no discernible structure, but nonetheless, are very influential. Often, in fall, I question about my relationships, friendships, and acquaintances, and wonder: Where is the figure that my hand reaches out for? Where is the passion I so avidly crave? And the best of all, am I still resisting the one thing that I may true desire the most?

There goes another leaf, off in the wind.

Hillary Clinton and John Kerry Picture

"John, tell me I can run in 2008, and I'll be yours forever..."



I made the picture, but can you beat the caption?

Vice Presidential Debate

Cheney: "...the first time I ever met you was when I walked on the stage tonight."

I want Sloth to try to explain to me how Edwards won that debate. I'll even concede that maybe they tied the second half when it came to some of the domestic issues (No Child Left Behind isn't really an effective bill, and actually may be hurting our school system very badly). But there is NO way you can tell me Cheney didn't win on foreign issues.

Did I actually see Edwards cringe when his Senate record was strewn out before him like that?

Moderately Impressive Witticisms

Occasionally, I have brief moments of inspiration and come up with some original lines that I like to remember. Some of you may not care about when I'm funny, some of you won't think I'm funny at all, and others are just, well, mentally unavailable. But this is my blog, so here we go. Not completely PG, so be warned....


On deceiving appearances: Mister Rogers taught me a whole different level of make believe. Ok, maybe that wasn't the image I really wanted to paint.

On a pale, mimicking friend: You're like a parrot without all of the pretty feathers. Just the skin underneath the feathers, except less opaque.

On time traveling to the 50's: Bring lots of birth control pills and you'd be a god. Here, sweetie, it's candy, try it.

On raising children: Why not walk her on the the line of caution and knowledge. Wow. That's utopian.

On not being baptised: I figure that on my deathbed, I'll get baptised and I'm money. My original sin is just going to be a really long tab.

On Ritalyn focus: I feel like I'm metaphorically picking at things like a meth addict with hives.


Alright, I've gotta run back to my work so I can have a little time to watch the V.P. debates. Until another brief break.

Too Much To Do In No Time

I have become the academic version of Sisyphus, trying to get the boulder up the hill. I, at this moment, have 250 pages of reading to catch up on, 5 papers to write, 14 assignments to catch up on, and a few other things that I haven't even figured out yet.

I will be busy for awhile, so please excuse my neglect.

Google Searches That Ended Here

Here are my top five recent searches (Google and one MSN Search) that landed people at What's A Year In Forever:

1) "One by land", restaurant, connecticut

2) hazing sorority "short skirt"

3) umainedrunks movies

4) "i think my girlfriend is fooling around on me" (poor bastard)

5) Dolly Parton+dentures

The last one really made me sit back and think: What the hell do I write about?

Superheroes Are Real

... and if you don't believe me, check out this athletic prowess.

Thanks to consumption junction for this. Their site usually contains inappropriate content in terms of ads and banners, but this should be a direct link.