I'm up for an emotional one night stand

(To clarify the title, that's an emotional one night stand as distinguished from a physical one night stand, not a physical one night stand filled with emotions.)

So it occurs to me that I don't have very many friends. While this certainly isn't a shocking realization, it really hit home when I logged onto facebook this evening after an 11.5 hour day at work (more on that in a second), checked who was online, and actually briefly considered talking to Anisha Rimal before realizing, wait, why on earth would I talk to Anisha Rimal? Answer: I have nobody better to talk to. This is a somewhat, but not altogether, depressing realization. I mean, given the circumstances of me being in New Jersey, sans any significant other to speak of, after freshman year of college when most of my classmates are in their hometowns, chilling with their parents, lifeguarding, catering, waitressing, or doing other "normal" jobs like that (like I'd be working in the mall if I was in Missouri), it's not like I'm a huge priority on most of my guy friends' "to visit" lists. Despite going to a school of "international relations and diplomacy", I have found that whenever events occur in the diplomatic or political world, I primarily discuss them with people back home or my parents. After a year at Seton Hall, albeit a below average year, I don't think I've really found anybody I've "clicked" with yet.

One person I have actually clicked with was (is?) my roommate last year. Great guy named Ralph Pepe, who lives about 30 minutes from here. Due to costs he transferred out of Seton Hall (it's expensive if you've decided to be a police officer), but last Friday he randomly drove me to see his house, his new college, his town, where he works, grab dinner and DQ... all in all it was a relatively fun time. During the course of our conversation, we managed to discuss how much Seton Hall sucks, how life/summer was going in general, our respective female situations, you know, normal stuff. Along the way, Ralph made the fascinating claim that almost everybody I knew or was sorta friends with was incredibly, totally crazy. And the funny thing is... he's right. Due to being unable to name names on this blog (more people at least have the potential to read it now than used to, and I don't want to name names that would result in me gaining even less social standing than I already possess), suffice it to say that the majority of my ex girlfriends, a significant minority, if not majority, of people I am relatively okay friends with now, and probably, given my luck, a good 50-60% of the people I've yet to meet have some serious mental trauma or issues in their past (hereafter referred to as "baggage"). All of this begs the question: is it them, me, or... what? Why do I seem to be able to find and relate to normal people? Am I boring, or do I find them boring (I find a lot of people boring...)? Do I attract people that are looking for stability in their lives, or do I attract people who the normal people have already rejected because they're too unstable? Will I keep asking unanswerable rhetorical questions? (Answer: no).

I was taking a "what ethnicity should you date" quiz on facebook yesterday (new low, I know) and it told me I should date asians. Why? (Bear with me, I SWEAR all of this has a point. Don't exit! Don't!) Because, according to the quiz, I'm attracted to quiet, small, intelligent, studious people. This is probably a fairly accurate description of who I would be attracted to, but I don't think I actually know ANYBODY (female) who fits that description. I mean, I'm not super incredibly nerdy or super political active in a "Bush/Obama/Gordon Brown must DIE" way, so most of the super nerdy or super politically active girls are all over there on the left with the likeminded fellows (that's right, I used "fellows"). Then over here on the right we have all the ambitious, I'm going to make something of myself type women. Too bad they're so ambitious they're not dating anybody, or if they are, they're just fucking them. Since I'm so totally amazing at one night stands (see title), naturally we get along really well (obvious sarcasm here). In the middle we have all the normal people (boring), so I'm left to randomly wander around in the forward or back parts of life looking for somebody who I can even have intelligent conversations with. (It strikes me that this turned into a "why I'm not dating somebody" instead of a "why don't I have friends" post. Dammit. Okay, well, all of this applies to friends too.) I mean, would I even be friends with myself if I didn't know me? I talk a lot in class, have in depth discussions with teachers, generally keep to myself afterwards... I mean, I'd be my friend. I just haven't found the equivalent of Nick Henderson out here yet (well, I have sort of, but he's found a girl he's going to be engaged to soon or something. Also, notice how I managed to swing this topic back into the friendship rather than dating realm). There's just nobody in any of my classes that makes intelligent points that isn't a) two years older than me, b) extremely liberal, or c) commutes and is probably dating some 25 year old (or is ambitious and doesn't touch relationships - or, as a sidenote, is going to be in an arranged marriage. No lie). Long story short, it's difficult (relatively) being me.

One of the other reasons it's somewhat difficult being me is that I worked 11.5 hours at work today. I'd blog all about it (really exciting stuff going on), but I signed an agreement that says I can't. So you'll have to trust me, it's really freaking exciting. I could potentially be going to Africa 2-3 times between now and January (again, potentially) and things are moving really fast. Lots of time intensive, deadline specific stuff needs to get done in the next 7 days and I'm pretty much one of the only interns that can be in to do it. This means that I get a lot of learning experience, a little bit of responsibility, and maybe even some well-likedness, but it sort of sucks having relatively nobody to share this with that's in the same boat as me. One of the reasons that I don't really mind working that much is that it sorta gives meaning to what I'm doing out here. I don't do a ton of stuff just "for fun" really, so it's a heck of a lot better than just sitting at home playing music until I fall asleep. I wonder if law is in my future. Apparently being a lawyer requires 60-70 hour weeks, and after putting in a 50 or so hour one, I know that they could probably get really old, really fast. Especially when/if I actually have a significant other and, who knows, maybe a couple of kids... I don't know that I'd want them growing up almost without me for that long. But then again, ambition calls, and my quest to do something worthwhile with my life once again tells me to push onward, work harder, achieve more, and worry about the women when I find a short, intelligent, quiet, studious, and apparently asian one.

Sadly, I don't really have a good ending point for this blog post.

And the Clouds Grew Darker (surprisingly not a metaphor)

Since my official facebook christening as a "NEWARK HERO!" (not even kidding, I took a quiz and everything) I've been more open to walking to and from work (once I get off the train at Newark Broad Street station) instead of taking the light rail from NBS to Newark Penn and then to another stop across the street from work. Despite a growing number of dark clouds (like, seriously dark clouds) in the sky, I neglected to grab an umbrella as I was leaving the office. Additionally, today I had limited time to catch the express from NBS back to South Orange, so I made the executive decision that I would roll the dice and could do the 12 minute walk before the skies opened up and drenched this Newark Hero in a torrential downpour.

You can probably guess where this is going.

About 3 or 4 minutes into the walk, just long enough that it didn't make any sense to go back to the light rail station across the street from work but still with definitely more than half way to go, a raindrop hits the back of my neck. Not a small raindrop either. And I think to myself, "This could be bad." More drops. "Oh boy. Typical really. This isn't going to end well." Rain beginning to get close to starting. "Do I have any real options here? Go back, no, go forward... well... I guess... screw it." Rain begins. Not just light rain, either. It's funny; in New Jersey I think I've been a part of one, maybe two, thunderstorms. They don't really happen out here. So while this wasn't a thunderstorm, this was large raindrops, heavy rain, full out "you chose... unwisely" type situation. So in my black slacks, black dress shoes, silver dress shirt with black buttons that I wore to Loyalty either junior or senior year (I can't remember... but I'm pretty sure I wore it to one of those), and Kenneth Cole black leather messenger bag, I become absolutely soaked. In the next 3-4 minutes my hair becomes completely wet, shirt drenched, shoes getting full of water...

And as the clouds grew darker and the rain intensity increased to not just raining, but REALLY raining (you know when rain really picks up, like you have to have the windshield wipers on high to see anything and even then it's kind of a challenge? That's the kind of rain we entered at this point in the journey). There was no point in running to the train station; I was already completely wet. So I grew, perhaps, even more waterlogged. Shoes filled with water. Black dress slacks quite literally couldn't have been wetter if I had showered with them on. Shirt maintained fully waterlogged status. I felt in a small way like that couple in The Notebook, minus the girl and the fact that I was definitely not on a boat (motherfucker!) (note: I have never seen this movie, but it was one of Kim's, like, two favorites so I'm rather familiar with this one scene where this couple is out in a boat talking about how much they love each other, and it starts DOWNPOURING, so the guy rows to shore and there's this incredibly rain-soaked make out session on the dock of the lake with... yeah yeah, anyway) (by the way that previous "motherfucker" was a reference to the song "I'm on a boat". If you haven't listen to it yet, it's pretty hilarious. I realize this reference is about 1-2 months old by now. Let's move on).

During the last 3-4 completely rainsoaked minutes of walking to the train station, I remember not being able to stop smiling. For whatever reason, the entire affair just made me feel incredibly bright. After the 10 minute express train ride, and the 8 minute walk back up to my apartment, I promptly went into my room, stripped naked, threw all of the definitely-still-wet clothes in a pile, and climbed into bed. I remember just lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, thinking about a number of different topics (mostly involving work and the future, but some, I'm sure, were just random reminiscings on the day). I'm not sure how long I stared at the ceiling, completely losing myself in thought, before I drifted off to sleep. I just woke up from my three hour nap (meaning my sleep schedule is probably not going to be the best, but it never was) when I wrote this blog post, and I'm now going to see about making dinner and watching a movie before real bed. I feel very happy right now. Just thought you all should know.