“I ain’t afraid of no ghost!” –Ray Parker Jr., “Ghostbusters”
Fun fact about me, I’ve never really celebrated Halloween. When I was a kid, my (hella religious, very Christian) mom called it “the Devil’s holiday” and wouldn’t let me do anything related to it. No watching scary movies or anything. Although I did see The Exorcist once as a teen and that was the only horror movie I needed to see. I’ve also seen Candyman (didn’t like it) and Carrie (liked it), but in general I tend to stay away from horror movies anyway, even now that I’m an adult. Horror-adjacent stuff is okay, though (looking at you, Us, Get Out, etc.).
Anyway, my mom and aunt didn’t really get along, even when they were kids. My aunt was very controlling and hated that my mom wouldn’t just do what she told her to do simply because she was older than my mom. This beef followed them into adulthood, to the point where even now, they haven’t spoken to each other in over 30 years. (The origin story of said beef is a very long story. I may talk about it in a future post.) However, when my cousin and I were kids, they wanted us kids to get along, even though they didn’t. So they’d always have us do stuff together.
One year for Halloween, my aunt got the idea that I should tag along with her, my uncle, and my cousin when they go trick-or-treating. My mom agreed, except she forgot the most important part. I didn’t have a costume. So my mom said I should go as a ghost. “We’ll just take a white sheet and cut some holes in it for the eyes,” she said. Seems easy enough, right? Well, the problem is that because my head was so big, the sheet formed a point at the top and…well, you see where I’m going with this. I basically looked like Clayton Bigsby from that one Chappelle’s Show skit. That night, when we walked house to house, I didn’t get hardly any candy from anyone, other than some pity candy from the few people that felt sorry for me. That was the one and only time I’ve ever been trick-or-treating.
Now that I’m an adult, I just treat Halloween like a normal day. Luckily, I live in a neighborhood where we all keep to ourselves, so no one around here goes all out either. Although I do usually treat myself to a giant bag of Halloween candy on November 1st, since that’s usually when all Halloween candy goes on sale. Seems pretty fitting.
Thanks for reading and happy Halloween.
Song of the Day: Michael Jackson – Thriller
Still one of the best music videos of all time and one of the best albums of all time.
“It’s no surprise to me I am my own worst enemy Cuz every now and then I kick the living shit outta me” –Lit, “My Own Worst Enemy”
The dreaded Check Engine light.
I guess I shouldn’t even be surprised.
It was my fault for unloading all of my issues onto the HR guy who simply asked how things were going. I could’ve just told him the default “fine” or maybe “it’s going good”.
It was my fault for trusting HR guy when he said he’d have my back. Because HR people have obligations to the company as well.
It was my fault for openly complaining about the P-Box test. I could’ve just kept my mouth shut and done what they told me to do. Keep running laps and try to improve my score, even though I consistently gave them mid-to-high 80s every lap.
And it was my fault for not listening to HR guy today when he said I have a problem taking direction and taking advice as criticism. (Even though R. and them literally critiqued my driving, but whatever.)
So here I am, unemployed and looking for a job. Again. Why should I even be shocked at this point.
I guess here is the part where I do the classic “here’s how we got here” move.
It all started at the end of the day Monday. After I got home that afternoon, I got a call from a guy in HR, just wanting to see how things were going since it was the start of my 3rd week. I don’t know what triggered it, but I basically unloaded all of my issues on the guy. I told him about the lack of training. Getting yelled at for walking into the wrong garage. All of it. He said he was sorry I was going through that and that he’d look into every issue I told him about. I pleaded with him to not let it get back to me because I just started the job and wasn’t trying to ruffle any feathers. He reassured me I had nothing to worry about.
Wednesday morning (I stayed at home Tuesday, since R. said I didn’t need to come in), I showed up to work like normal. But my badge didn’t work on the security gate. Security guy at the booth got on the phone, calling whoever, trying to figure out the issue with my badge. I pulled my car off to the side of the gate and immediately called the HR guy. He said he tried to call me again Tuesday night but I didn’t answer. I told him my phone had ran an update during the night, so I didn’t even receive his call. He said the reason my badge didn’t work is because R. decided to let me go. Wait…what? I don’t even get to plead my case? To show them my worth? HR guy cut me off. Told me to not raise my voice at him (I wasn’t). Told me to just listen to him (gee, that sounds familiar). Told me to just head home or security would escort me off the premises. Geez, dramatic much? So I told the security guy goodbye and headed home. I called HR guy as soon as I got home. He told me I need to pull it together and that I have a hard time taking direction and that I have “impulse control issues”. Okay…? Is that why R. just let me go and didn’t even tell me to my face? Apparently, yes. HR guy said we need to consider reassigning me. To where? How long will that take? How soon will I be working again? He yelled at me. Told me he doesn’t have any answers but will let me know the next day. Then he hung up.
Which brings us to today. I called HR guy and he explained that the company has decided to not reassign me and let me go instead. He again explained that I have trouble taking direction and started giving me advice. I explained that I don’t take kindly to a grown man talking to his employees like they’re his children. He cut me off and said I wasn’t listening to him and that we weren’t talking about R., we were only talking about me. I calmly explained that I was simply giving him some context as to why things happened the way they did. And before I could say anything else, he ended the call. I angrily threw my phone onto my bed.
So. What’s the lesson here? Your boss’s word is law, no matter what. And if they make you do something you hate? Deal with it. Sometimes I really need to just keep my mouth shut.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Run The Jewels – No Save Point (Cyberpunk 2077 OST)
“‘Cause I’m 0 to 60 in 3.5 Baby, you got the keys Now shut up and drive” –Rihanna, “Shut Up and Drive”
I’ve heard of treating real-life tasks like a video game, but this is ridiculous.
This is basically what I hear whenever people at work critique my driving now. This fucking guy.
For the past week and a half or so, I’ve been training at my new job. The training mainly involves an evaluation called the P-Box and driving laps on Rough Road. P-Box stands for “performance box“, which is a small electronic device that is suction-cupped to the lower corner of the windshield. It uses GPS signal data and a digital display to show your vehicle’s actual speed. You insert a SD card in the bottom of it to record the driving data. Rough Road, as I’ve mentioned before, is the only part of the testing roads that my coworkers and I drive on. It’s basically a 3 km long loop with curves and HUGE potholes in it. It has one lane marking going all the way directly down the center of the road and you’re supposed to keep the vehicle centered over this line. There are speed limit signs posted in each section to let you know what speed to go–the fastest speed on the track is 100 km/h (about 62 mph). In order to pass the P-Box eval, you have to drive 3 consecutive laps and hit the speeds in each section as exact as possible. You’re graded on how steady your speed control is, with the maximum score being 99. The margin of error is +1 km/h over, -5 km/h under. Anything more than that and you instantly fail the lap. You have to do 3 laps in two different types of vehicles: a sedan and a minivan.
Picture something like this, except it’s been hit by mortar shells. That’s what Rough Road looks like. (This is actually the track layout of Aviator Loop, as seen in Ridge Racer 6 and 7.)
It took me 3 days to pass it in the sedan. If you’ve ever driven a Toyota Camry, then you know how sensitive the gas pedal can be. It’s almost impossible to keep it at a steady speed. It was even more difficult for me, since I had to wear my steel toe shoes while driving it. After every run, I’d go back to the garage, hand the SD card to my supervisor, and he’d insert it into his laptop, run it through the P-Box software, and show me my score. In addition to your score, the P-Box program also shows an outline of your drive and lays it over the ideal drive, so my supervisor would use this to show me exactly where I lost points and what I need to work on. At first, it was demoralizing, because on the screen that displays your score, it shows either PASS in green letters or FAIL in red letters. I swear, I must have seen the word fail about 20 times before I finally passed (low to mid 80s each lap).
Eventually, I moved on to the minivan. Everyone kept telling me the minivan would be much easier. It was NOT easier for me…at least, not at first. I spent most of last week attempting it and failing every time. The hardest part of the test in general is keeping the vehicle at a steady speed over a road that belongs in a Middle Eastern warzone. And with a margin of error of +1 and -5, I was sweating bullets every time the speed got close to either extreme.
Anyway, today I passed. I did 2 runs of 3 laps and scored mid to high 80s on both runs. When I got back to the conference room, my supervisor B. ran my data through the P-Box program and showed me my score, then emailed the results to my boss R. who was also in the room. R. put the score up on his monitor and pointed out where I needed to improve. There was also a technician/trainer from the contract company in the room (named T.) who had been glancing at my P-Box results since the beginning and giving me advice here and there. He saw my results from today and said “Okay, now it’s time to improve on your score.” My brain being completely fried, I said “I don’t really have to improve, do I? I passed, that should be enough.” He said “Yeah, you did pass and you did great. But there’s always room for improvement, right?” I said, “I guess. But if I already passed, I think doing laps over and over to try and get a better score is redundant. I got high 80s both times in the minivan and I only had to do it once. I really don’t think doing it again is going to improve anything.” He then went on to explain how, when driving a test vehicle, driving Rough Road repeatedly can lead to exhaustion and whatnot and how if your max is low 80s then you could possibly sink into driving not as accurately and blah blah blah (I basically tuned him out by this point). After whatever the fuck he said, he ended by saying, “So, how do you feel about it?” and I said “I think I’m doing fine now, but my opinion clearly doesn’t matter, so…” He apologized and said “I’m sorry you feel that way” which was fucking bullshit, but whatever. It was about 2:30 and R. eventually said he wanted me to go back out again. I clearly looked exasperated by the whole thing because T. eventually said “Look, we’re not asking you to drive laps over and over again” and I laughed and said “R. literally just said that!” After a few minutes of going back and forth about improving on my scores, T. left the room and R. said “Since you don’t want to go back out, you can go home early. You probably won’t be needed tomorrow, since we won’t have access to the minivan (our team shares the van with the Operations department at the proving grounds). I’ll let you know if we need you Wednesday.” I then gathered my things and left.
Well…at least stuff is happening at work now. I guess I’m gonna have to get used to people judging the shit out of my driving. It’s not like I’m being singled out or anything, though. Apparently everybody has to do a P-Box test at least once a month, so my coworkers are gonna have their driving judged too. I still hate it, though. I need to find something that I like about this job so I don’t feel so terrible going to work every morning. But right now, I have nothing. Hopefully it’ll get better.
“Pain, I like it rough ‘Cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all” – Three Days Grace, “Pain”
I sprained my ankle at work last week. And I didn’t even tell anyone.
Peter Griffin and his hurt knee. A classic Family Guy running gag.
Before I explain what happened, I’ll have to explain a bit more about my job.
There are at least two vehicles in the garage at all times: a test vehicle and what they’ve deemed the “Water Truck”. Both vehicles are pickup trucks and both have been fitted with 60-gallon water tanks located in the flatbed. There are hoses running from the tank to the shocks of the vehicle. Because the testing is only done on Rough Road–the part of the testing roads that’s basically like driving over an already-exploded mine field–this heats up the shocks. If you keep driving for too long the shocks will eventually overheat and stop working altogether, but because of the water tank, water is constantly splashing onto the shocks, so this is not an issue. To keep the test vehicle constantly running, one of the test drivers is usually tasked with driving the water truck and meeting the test vehicle at the beginning of Rough Road every 2 or 3 hours to refill the test vehicle’s water tank by transferring water from the Water Truck’s tank to the test vehicle’s. Then once the Water Truck’s tank is eventually empty, it is driven back to the garage, where it can be refilled via a hose.
Which brings us to me and my sprained ankle. It was Thursday. A new test vehicle had arrived (right hand drive SUV) and B.–who, as you know, is my supervisor and the lead mechanic–had to get it ready for road testing. It had a few things missing, such as the back seats, which were being shipped to the proving grounds separately and had to be installed by B. and the other mechanics. This, of course, meant that my training had to be put on pause for the day, which for me meant more sitting in the conference room doing absolutely nothing. Eventually in the afternoon, S. drove the Water Truck back to the garage to refill the water tank. Because there was a guy working on the vehicle scale in the garage, he parked the truck outside on the side of the garage, opened the side door, and ran the hose from the inside wall to the water tank of the truck. He approached me in the conference room and said “Hey Don, I gotta go take a leak. You mind watching the Water Truck for me? Make sure the tank doesn’t overflow.” Sure, no problem, I said. I went outside and stood watch while the water hose did its thing. After a few minutes, I moved the hose back into the garage to its proper place and closed the water tank shut. For some reason, I decided to jump from the door of the truck’s flatbed to the ground below. This was a huge mistake. As soon as I landed, I instantly fell to the ground and clutched my left leg like the Peter Griffin screenshot above. It hurt SO bad, but I didn’t make a noise. Didn’t scream or anything. I just silently laid on the ground for a bit, assessing the damage to my leg. Just a sprain. Nothing broken, thank goodness. So I hopped back up and walked back into the garage like nothing happened. I limped a bit as I walked back into the conference room, but nobody noticed. A couple hours later, it was almost time to clock out. S. decided to ask B. if he could leave a bit early because he had to visit his parents and he wanted to beat the traffic. B. said he was free to go, so a few minutes after that, I also asked B. if I could leave early and he also said I could go.
When I got home, I laid down on my fold-out couch and stretched out my legs. Left one still hurt like hell, so since I didn’t have any other plans for the night, I stayed on the couch and didn’t move for the rest of the night (other than to walk to the bathroom, of course). The next day, I called off of work. Didn’t give B. a reason–it’s none of his or the company’s business anyway and if I had told him it was for a medical reason I’d have to supply a doctor’s note (no thanks). I stayed in bed pretty much all day, hoping this would help my leg stop hurting. Eventually, it did. No problems anymore. But I really need things at this job to start going well. Otherwise I’m really gonna have to find something else.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Wendy’s feat. Shane Told – I Miss The Sunroom
Have you heard one of the biggest Wendy’s franchisees in the country is filing for bankruptcy? Wendy’s–which has the best social media team in the fast food game–is apparently so sad about it that they decided to make an emo EP. And they enlisted actual emo musicians to do it. And let me tell you…it slaps. This is the best song on it IMO, but honestly, the whole EP is great. Give it a listen.
“It’s driven me before, and it seems to have a vague Haunting mass appeal But lately I’m beginning to find that I Should be the one behind the wheel” –Incubus, “Drive”
* Some names have been changed.
Losing a job is a different kind of loss. It doesn’t quite hit the same as, say, a bad breakup, but it is a loss nonetheless. When I lost my job a couple of months ago, it really messed me up. Especially because I really liked that job. And to just have it taken away from me over some bullshit was really upsetting. And with the job market being the way it is nowadays, I wasn’t sure I’d find a new one so soon.
Well…I started a new job today. And the first day was…not great.
It’s another test driving gig. This one is a smaller company with two locations in Michigan: one roughly an hour away from me and one about 45 minutes away. The one closer to me is where they do their Level 1 (L1) testing. It’s a small proving grounds facility, so it’s all closed course. The other location is where they do their Level 3 (L3) testing, which is all public roads. The position I was hired for is for the L1 testing on second shift. However, because training is done on first shift, so I’ll be working first shift the next couple of weeks and then the third week, they will switch me to second shift.
So, today was day 1. I had received an email from HR last week telling me to plan on showing up at the proving grounds 15 minutes before my shift starts. Because my shift is supposed to start at 9 AM, I showed up at exactly 8:45. I pulled up to the security guard and the guard called my supervisor (who I’ll just call R*) to let him know I was here. I could barely hear the conversation from my car, but from what I could hear, R. apparently had a new contractor also starting today and he had to supervise them for whatever reason, but he told the guard to have me wait in the parking lot and R. would meet me there and we’d walk into the building together. So the guard pointed to the lot across from the gate and told me to park; I did. I waited. And waited. And waited. 45 minutes later (why did I even bother showing up 15 minutes early?), R. finally pulls up and we walk into the main building together. We walked up to the security operations desk inside the main building, which was huge. I’ll never understand why a damn security desk needs FIVE people behind it. Anyway, one of the guards (a younger guy named G.*) hands me a form and tells me to sign it so that I can get my ID badge. He then took my picture (I never smile for ID pics, because what’s the point?) and printed out the badge.
My ID badge. As you can see, I’m thrilled to be there.
R.* then took me to the main garage that our team works out of and introduced me to the rest of the guys on said team in the conference room located within the garage. The team, if you can even call it that, only consisted of 3 other guys: B.*, the main technician; and K.* & S.*, two other test drivers. S.* was the oldest of the guys; B.* and K.* were both younger guys. Eventually R.* left the room (way to ditch me like Denzel did Ethan Hawke in Training Day, fucking asshole) and the other two guys were working on a vehicle, so it was just me and S.* in the room. I started asking him about the job and whatnot. He told me he’s only been there 6 months. He started explaining the job and everything that it entails. Apparently it varies wildly from job to job, but currently they’re testing durability by running laps on the part of the testing track called the Rough Road–it’s exactly what it says on the tin. But because there’s only one test vehicle, they share it between the 3 of them. Drive for an hour, swap drivers, etc. The reason they hired me is because there’s going to be a second test vehicle arriving at some point, which is when they will switch me to 2nd shift. Seems easy enough, I guess. Eventually the other 2 guys finished whatever they were doing and entered the conference room. K.* was a gamer–I instantly noticed his Steam Deck sitting on the conference room table–so we talked games and anime for a minute. I told him I play Cyberpunk; so does he. Told him I’m on my 5th playthrough; so is he (did we just become best friends?). He said I should check out Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, the Netflix series based on the game. I told him it’s on my list–it’s been on my list for months. Then B., who I guess is technically my trainer, gathered my PPE that I’m gonna need for the job: racing helmet (hate it), steel-toe shoes that he had to order from Amazon which have to be Electric Hazard certified for whatever reason, safety goggles, and high viz safety vest. The goggles and vest only have to be worn while in the garage and when I’m driving a test vehicle I can swap out the steel-toe shoes for tennis shoes, if I want. I decided to just wear the steel toe shoes while I’m at work though, because I’m not lugging a whole ass other pair of shoes to work every damn day if I don’t have to.
From that point on, all I did for the rest of the day was sit in the conference room, bored as fuck. I can’t be certified to drive until I’m trained to do so and my information isn’t even in the proving grounds’ online employee portal because R. was too busy doing whateverthefuck to do it himself. Anyway, at 1:30 PM, I went back to the security desk at the front of the building to do the track orientation, which consisted of G. (same guard that gave me my ID badge) giving me and 3 other guys–2 of which apparently do motorcycle testing(?!) a tour of the facility, followed by a rundown of the rules and a drive around all the testing roads. After orientation, we went back to the security desk to sign an acknowlegement form and the guard said I was free to go. I attempted to walk back to my team’s garage without asking for help and got lost. Ended up in a completely different garage. My team is in garage 4, but I ended up in garage 1. So I walked outside the building and towards garage 4. One of my coworkers drove up in the test vehicle and asked if I needed help, so I hopped in the back and we drove back to the garage, since that’s where he was headed anyway. I went back to sitting in the conference room doing fuck all while my coworkers did whatever.
Then R. showed up again, admonishing me for walking outside of the main building and through a different garage instead of the correct one. I told him I got lost because 1) nobody told me where to go, and 2) the garages aren’t exactly well marked, there’s literally only one sign for each garage and they’re fucking outside. He didn’t care. Yelled at me and accused me of cutting him off. “I JUST NEED YOU TO LISTEN RIGHT NOW, OKAY?” he yelled. He’s lucky I didn’t fucking smack him in the face. Right on cue, the other guys showed up in the conference room and R. started explaining how training was going to go over the next few weeks. Then he asked if a guy from HR got in touch with me about showing me how to do my timecard. I said yes, he’ll be onsite tomorrow. R. said good, he can get me registered on the online portal and show me how to do my timecard. I’m sorry, weren’t YOU supposed to do that? But I said nothing and just nodded Finally, at 4:00, R. let me go home. Said to be at work by 7 AM tomorrow.
Yeah…so far, I’m not impressed with this place. The guys were cool for the most part, but R. just treated me like he’d rather be doing literally anything else except showing me around and telling me what I needed to know. And if B. is supposed to be my trainer, he’s even more hands-off than R. I sure hope things improve and soon. Because I could use the money, but not if it means I have to put up with shit like this every day.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Your Old Droog feat. Wiki – RAINDROPS
“I got fired today And I’m really sore about it, frankly” –Say Anything, “Fired”
Yep. I got fired today.
It was a work day like any other. I did my one work assignment, attended the EOD team meeting, and went home. Then, around 7 PM, I got a call. Didn’t recognize the number, so I didn’t answer it. They called again and left a voicemail. I didn’t even bother listening to the VM and simply called the number back. It was a woman from HR at the contract company I work for. She said the company let me go, effective immediately. I panicked. Kept stumbling over my words. Fuck. This can’t be happening again. Not like this.
But in order to give you the full story, I have to take you back a bit.
As you know, I worked for the autonomous division of a major Japanese automaker. There are 2 sides to the autonomous testing: safety driver and software operator. The safety driver is, obviously, the driver of the test vehicle. They’re responsible for taking over when the autonomy mode starts acting weird. The software operator (SwOp for short) is responsible for making sure that the cameras, LiDARs, etc. are working properly. They relay things to the driver to let them know what the cameras and LiDARas see. For example, when driving on the highway, the SwOp will call out “good cut-in” when another vehicle cuts in front and the autonomous vehicle slows down like normal because it can detect a vehicle in front of it.
Over the past couple of months, I had been working towards getting certified for both safety driver and software operator. The software operator evaluation came first. I was a nervous wreck. It wasn’t the job itself that bothered me–I’m an IT guy, so having to do computer stuff in a moving car is second nature to me. The part that bothered me was the eval itself. Because not only do I have to make sure that I’m doing the job properly, but I also have to make sure that I’m answering whatever questions the trainers decide to throw at me. And I’m expected to do both at the exact same time. The first time I took the eval, I was completely overwhelmed and the trainers knew it. So the following week, I went through more training and at the end of the week, I took another eval. I passed it, no problem.
Then my supervisors decided to start training me for safety driver. Which shouldn’t have been a problem, considering I was already trained for manual driving (i.e. normal, non-autonomy data collection). The problem was that, again, I’m expected to answer questions about hardware and whatnot while also paying attention to the road. Not only that, but they were the exact same questions as the software operator eval. Again, I was overwhelmed. But the main reason I failed that eval is because the trainers said I don’t have a “safety first” mindset. Whatever the hell that means. Apparently I’m expected to ask everyone if they have their seatbelts on before the car leaves the garage? No one told me that during the initial training. Also, apparently the driver is supposed to have a “captain of the ship” mentality which means they can disengage (i.e. disable autonomy and drive like normal) at any time, no questions asked, yet during my eval the software operator tells me that I’m supposed to disengage whenever HE tells me to? And THAT’S the reason I failed? Make it make sense. So, a week later, I had a one-on-one meeting with my supervisor and discussed it. Apparently the company realizes that their training methods are severely lacking in certain areas and my supervisor assured me that he was going to take my feedback about my eval into consideration during his weekly meeting with the trainers. He then told me that this week, I would do software operator testing and that next week, I would resume safety driver training so that I could eventually re-take the driver eval.
Which brings us to that phone call today. The HR lady kept reiterating that the reason I was being let go was that the higher-ups had “safety concerns” about me driving their vehicles. What safety concerns? You trust me enough to do manual driving and go out on solo missions, yet autonomous driving is a bridge too far? Apparently, yes. So, since my contract is almost up anyway (my 1-year anniversary with the company would’ve been next month), they decided to simply not extend it. This really sucks. I liked that job. I got along with all my coworkers. The work itself was easy. I thought there was a real chance that I’d get hired in full-time, especially because when I initially got hired in, that’s what my boss said was the initial plan–that eventually ALL of us contractors would get hired in. But several months ago, there was a restructuring in my department and all the hire-ups got moved to different positions, which means that the person that made that promise wasn’t my boss anymore.
So. What’s next from here? Well, my plan is to not think about it at all this weekend, if I can help it. But first thing Monday, I have to turn in my company equipment (laptop, cell phone, etc.) and then start updating my resume and whatnot. Hopefully I’ll have a new job in no time.
Thanks for reading.
NOTE: If you were expecting Part 2 of my proving grounds adventure, it’s probably not happening any time soon. That moment is so far in my rear view that I can’t even remember what happened back then. Maybe someday I will revisit it, but for now, Part 2 is TBD.
Song of the Day: Hiroshi Okubo feat. Kimara Lovelace – Ridge Racer (One More Win) (Ridge Racer Type 4 OST)
What’s a secret skill or ability you have or wish you had?
Lisa Simpson playing a saxophone.
I wish I knew how to play an instrument.
I’m a huge music fan…always have been. But I’ve never been able to play an instrument. I’ve tried, though. When I was in high school, my mom–who was my school’s computer teacher at the time–became friends with the band teacher and they convinced me to join band. I really, REALLY didn’t want to, but back then my mom had a habit of strong-arming me into doing things, even if I showed literally zero interest in them. I didn’t even know what instrument I wanted to play, but the band teacher told me to go with tenor sax. And even though I’d be the only person in the band that didn’t already know how to play my instrument, the band teacher assured me that he would teach me how to play, in between teaching the rest of the band what they needed to know.
Obviously, that’s not what happened. He never had time to teach me anything one-on-one, so I never actually learned how to play my instrument. To make matters worse, the marching band eventually went on a week-long class trip out of state. The band teacher had the idea that he would take us on a tour of colleges around the country. We’d get a tour of each campus and then we’d play with the college marching band. Sounds cool, right? Well, it was…for everyone else. For me, it was a nightmare. Because I got called out on not being able to play my instrument. Every. Fucking. Time.
The only highlight of that trip was the tail end of it. We were supposed to tour some college in Atlanta (I can’t remember which one, maybe Clark?) and the college’s band teacher had to cancel last minute. So we were essentially stuck in ATL for a day or two with nothing to do. We ended up just going to Atlantic Station and walking around for a bit. Cool place, even though I’m not really a fan of malls.
A few months after that trip, and halfway through the school year, the band teacher ended up quitting the school. The rumor was that he got up to no good on the trip and someone found out, but no one knew if the rumor was true or not. I didn’t really care, honestly. I was just glad that I was able to take my sax back to Guitar Center and get some decent money for it. After that, I never touched an instrument again. But part of me still wishes I had actually learned how to play that sax, instead of just being promised a lesson that never happened. Oh well. Maybe one day.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: People Under the Stairs – Blowin Wax
One of my favorite songs of all time that also has some sax in it. RIP Double K.
“You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?”
I’m glad this is one of the WordPress writing prompts, because I recently took a road trip for work. So this prompt is basically perfect timing. And honestly, nowadays, car seems like the best option, in my opinion.
That being said, let me tell you more about the trip. It all started about a month ago.
I currently work for the autonomous division of a major Japanese automaker. They do both autonomous and normal data collection. Data collection is where you drive a vehicle with cameras, LiDARs, and computers connected to it on assigned routes, making sure that the computers are logging data properly. The car companies essentially use this data to make all their automatic driving features—like adaptive cruise control, etc.—function better. The company I work for uses this data to improve their autonomous software. However, in order to do the autonomous testing, you have to get a specific certification called a Middle Class license, which you get by passing a driver evaluation. (Think of it like the license trials in Gran Turismo.) And the only way to do the driver eval is to go to their proving grounds…in Arizona.
Because I’m just a contractor, the company doesn’t pay for the trip, the contract company does. You can either have them pay for all the accommodations—which means you get the cheap version of everything (flight, hotels, rental car…IF you even get a rental car)—or you can pay for everything yourself and expense it to them. Not only did I opt for the latter—I had enough money saved up and I didn’t trust them to do the booking because, as I said, they go cheap on everything—but I also opted to drive.
That’s right. I decided to drive from Michigan to Arizona. All 2,000 miles of it.
My road trip route, from Michigan to Arizona.
Why, you ask? Well, to be honest, I hate flying. I’ve always hated it. And the last time I flew, it was…not a great experience, to put it mildly. Plus, I had a few paychecks saved up, so I decided, why not? It helped that my boss said he would approve literally anything I expense to the company—within reason, of course. (Even though the contract company gets the expense, my boss still has to approve it first.) So I told them I’d pay for the rental car and the hotels between Michigan and Arizona. All they had to pay for was the Arizona hotel (because Arizona hotels are HELLA expensive). So, I booked the rental car and hotels a week in advance. But things went wrong pretty much from the start.
When I told my mom about this trip, she wanted to know how I would be able to give her the personal car—because, as I’ve shared on here before, we currently share a car. So my plan was to pick her up in the morning and we could go to the rental car place, which was located inside the Flint airport, then I would leave for the trip immediately after, so that I could get a decent start on the road. That was the plan, anyway.
Here’s what happened:
DAY 1: MICHIGAN TO MISSOURI
My route from Michigan to Missouri.
9:30 AM: Picked up my mom. This was the easy part. 10:01 AM: Arrived at Flint airport. Also easy, since it was just a straight shot up I-75. 10:01-10:25 AM: Drove in circles, looking for the rental car place. The GPS waypoint was essentially way off from the airport terminal, so I didn’t even know that the rental car counter was inside said terminal. I’m used to rental car counters at airports being sectioned off from the rest of the airport—that’s how Detroit Metro does it. 10:35 AM: I walked into the airport and found the rental car counter. When I attempted to pay for my rental, the clerk informed me that, sorry, we don’t take debit cards, just credit. Shit. Fortunately, he also told me that any of the company’s other locations that aren’t located in airports will take debit. Thank goodness. 10:40 AM: While still in the Bishop parking lot, I called another location—turns out, there was one 5 minutes away from my mom’s place (why did we drive all the way out to the Flint location again?). They had a rental! And gave me a shit-ton of discounts cuz I’m a rewards member! They told me it’d be ready at 11:15. Nice! 11:05 AM: Halfway there, rental place called me and informed me that, sorry, we won’t have any cars available until 3 PM. Fuck. 3:05 PM: Picked up the rental. It’s a ’25 Nissan Rogue*. I had originally asked for a midsize sedan, but they gave me a free upgrade to a midsize SUV. (Mom joked that they probably gave it to me because they didn’t have any sedans. Lol, seems legit.) 3:15 PM: Said goodbye to mom and now I’m FINALLY on the road! 5:51 PM: Drove US-24 W in Indiana, ended up in a blizzard. Like, visibility-less-than-five-feet blizzard. And the giant wind gusts just made things worse. I knew it was bad because in the median, I saw a semi that had jackknifed and hit a guardrail. Luckily, on Indiana highways, the shoulders and median are wide, so even though the semi jackknifed, it didn’t block traffic. 12:30 AM: FINALLY MADE IT…to Columbia, MO! Completely exhausted and spent, I checked in to the hotel and instantly fell asleep. What a day.
* The Rogue is actually pretty nice! Hella roomy, comfy seats, and decent stereo. The engine seems a bit underpowered at times, the lane-centeringhas a habit of “ping-ponging“in the lane, and CarPlay doesn’t work, but other than that, I’m impressed. I’d give it a 7/10.
DAY 2: MISSOURI TO TEXAS
My route from Missouri to Texas.
7:30 AM: Checked out of the Missouri hotel. Was actually pretty decent. 3.5/5 stars. 8:30 AM: CARPLAY FINALLY WORKS!!! I guess the car just needed to stay off for a while. 10:30 AM: Saw the aftermath of a rollover crash on I-44 W. It looked like a car hit a car hauler, then one of the cars ended up on its side. Paramedics etc. were already on the scene by the time I drove past it. It’s always tough seeing crashes on the roads, but you have to keep moving. It’s simply a part of the drive, sadly. 11:30-11:50 AM: Stopped for lunch in Joplin, MO. Nothing special, just some Wendy’s, since I hadn’t had it in a while. I don’t know when they got chicken tenders, but wow, they were actually really good! 12:55 PM: Pulled over at a rest area in Claremore, OK. Got tired out of nowhere. (Pretty sure it was the itis.) 3:48 PM: Wind turbines!!! Saw some on I-40 W. Sadly, I couldn’t get a picture of them myself–a lot of these states are hella strict about phone stuff while driving (as they should be). 4:46 PM: On The Radio – Norah Jones Is Playing Along One of my favorite podcasts is Norah Jones Is Playing Along. Norah Jones interviews fellow musicians and then improvises music with them. It’s super interesting. This episode was with Lady Wray and she went really in depth into her background, including her relationship with Missy Elliott. Definitely worth checking out if you’re a music fan. 6:45 PM: FINALLY MADE IT…to Amarillo, TX! My Texas hotel is inn-style, so I probably won’t like it. A hotel with an open courtyard and an L-shaped building where I have to walk in a half-circle just to get to my room door? No thanks.
DAY 3: TEXAS TO ARIZONA
My route from Texas to Arizona.
5:45 AM: Checked out of Texas hotel. As I suspected, I hated it. Bed was squeaky as hell and the walls were paper-thin so I heard everything that my neighbors were doing. 2/5 stars. 6:15 AM: Ah yes, the infamous IH-40 manure/livestock smell. I can never unsmell it. Even with the recirculation on in my car, I STILL smelled it. Yuck. 9:10 AM: Further down I-40 W, I spotted a hitchhiker. People still do that, apparently. Wild. 9:18 AM: In the opposite direction (I-40 E), I saw the aftermath of what looked like a semi trailer that exploded (!!!). Traffic was backed up for miles. Police, etc. had just started showing up by the time I was driving past the scene. I don’t have a pic of it, unfortunately. (This is gonna be a recurring theme. I’m not really a picture guy, especially when I’m driving.) 10:18 AM: On The Radio: The Whispers – (Olivia) Lost and Turned Out I love this song. My first time hearing it was after finding out that Curren$y–one of my favorite rappers–sampled it. It also reminds me of a woman I used to know. That’s a story for another time. 3:37 PM: FINALLY MADE IT TO ARIZONA!!! As I pulled up to the hotel, my ears finally popped. That’s when I knew I had officially made it. (Those winding highways on the way in are no joke.)
So, did I learn anything? Well, I learned that driving can be better than flying, as long as you plan properly. And crashes are, sadly, an unavoidable part of being on the roads. As long as it doesn’t happen to you, all you can do is keep moving. Also, drink lots of water. It helped me out a lot.
In Vol. 2, I’ll talk about my experiences at the Proving Grounds.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Lice (Aesop Rock & Homeboy Sandman) – Who Sent You?
Best cover art I’ve seen this year (so far). Their new album is great too.
“Life is a highway I want to ride it all night long…” –Tom Cochrane, “Life Is A Highway”
When I tell people that I’m a test driver, the first question I usually get is “How’d you get a job like that?” And as much as I wish the answer was interesting or unique, it’s really not. It’s actually quite easy to get a job like this. Let me tell you how I started.
Back in 2013, I was at a crossroads in my life. My personal life wasn’t great at the time, mom had shut down her computer shop, and I was just taking temp jobs to get a little money here and there. Eventually I ended up getting a job at a mail sorting facility. The first day there, I instantly knew that I was gonna hate it. Luckily, I didn’t end up staying there very long, because my third day there, I got a call back from another job I had applied to at around the same time. It was a job at a temp company (which had a contract with a major auto parts supplier that supplied parts/data to all of the Big 3) for an infotainment tester. For those of you that don’t know, infotainment is the fancy word for radio systems in cars. At the time, I had no idea what infotainment was (I didn’t even have a touchscreen radio in my own car, since I was driving my mom’s work van at the time, which was a 2005 Chevy Venture*), but the job requirements were very minimal–literally all you needed was a high school diploma and minimal knowledge of technology–but because I had just started a job, I was hesitant of quitting my current one for one that I didn’t know much about. But my mom convinced me to try out the automotive one. It couldn’t be that hard, especially if the requirements were slim to none.
So, I put in my 2 weeks at the mail sorting place and on the 3rd week, I started at the infotainment job. The job itself was fairly easy–you simply rode around with a driver in a test vehicle on assigned routes, testing all the features of the radio. At first, the hardest part for me to wrap my head around was the checklist. It was insanely long. But my supervisor assured me that it only seemed long because I was new to the job and eventually I’d be flying through it without a problem. And she was absolutely right.
An average day at my job went like this: I’d show up to the facility–which was essentially a giant garage with offices, cubicles & conference rooms for the engineers upstairs–at 5:00 AM. The working hours were from 5 AM to 1:30 PM. I never got used to waking up that early. It was a pain every time, especially because I’ve never really been a morning person. Once I got there, my supervisor–the lead radio tester–would give me my assignment and the key desk (exactly what it says on the tin) would start handing out vehicle keys to the drivers. Every radio tester got assigned a kit, which was a plastic box that contained everything you needed to do your testing: a smartphone, a USB stick pre-loaded with music (which was always terrible), a CD (which they eventually phased out when the cars we were testing stopped having CD players installed), and charging cable for the phone. At first, the testing checklists were handwritten, which was a GIANT pain. Because we were on the road so early in the morning, we’d need the map light on to write. A lot of drivers hated that, to the point where they’d either politely ask you to not turn the map light on or–in the case of one driver, who REALLY wasn’t a morning person–forcefully turn the map light off themselves. Eventually, though, the company switched to iPads for the checklists, which was much easier. You’d still hear complaints from drivers (“Ugh, get that screen glare out of my face!” etc.), but you can’t win ’em all.
A map of one of the routes for my old job.
As for the routes, there were 5 letter routes (A through E) which were the main ones. Each route was ~300 miles and had a mix of city, country, and highway roads. You’d start in southeast Michigan, where the facility was located, and drive all over the state. Most routes stuck to the thumb area though. There were shorter routes, such as the one the electric minivans drove, which was a simple 45-minute loop consisting of streets around the office. The main letter routes were my favorite, although some were better than others. And on the weekend, you’d end up driving ~400 miles, because the routes driven on the weekends were all highway roads.
The worst part of being an infotainment tester was the driver assignments. You never knew what kind of driver you were gonna be paired up with. Because I almost always worked AM shift (I worked PM shift there one time to get some extra hours but those people were so loud & obnoxious I never did it again) the drivers were mainly old grumpy white guys. Which is fine–I can get along with almost anybody. But some of them were really stuck in their ways and took the whole “driver is in charge” thing a bit too far. One time, I got paired up with a said old grumpy white guy and literally as soon as we got in the car, he looked over at me and said “I don’t want to hear any rap in my car, alright?” So I looked at him and nicely said, “It’s not really your car, so…” He didn’t say anything else to me the rest of the day. Eventually, when the lead radio tester got a promotion and a different job within the company, I became a lead radio tester, which also meant I got to become a driver. Test driving was so much better than radio testing, especially post-COVID, when they got rid of radio testing altogether.
I was at that job for about 9 years and then I quit, mainly because I was a temp the entire time. Not once did they offer me a direct hire position, even though I was told multiple times by multiple full-time employees that I was one of the best drivers they had. I put in my 2 weeks notice there and, on the third week, I got hired at another company. I’ll talk about them in another post. Stay tuned.
*My mom actually found that van completely by accident. Back when we first bought it, my mom still had her computer shop and was looking on eBay for some metal shelving for the store. But a listing for a minivan kept coming up in her searches and she couldn’t figure out why. Turns out, the van had been part of a fleet for a bank and the back seat rows were removed to make room for some custom metal shelving. She bought the van–we had to drive down to Ohio to get it–thinking we could use the shelving to store parts, tools, customers’ systems and whatnot. Sadly, after she closed her shop, and a year into my radio testing job, the engine in it died. We ended up buying a 2012 Dodge Avengeras our next car. The ironic part is the entire time we owned that van, we rarely used the shelving to store computers or computer parts. Other than the name we gave it (Vanna White, because it was white and…well, you get it), I never really liked that van. If it had only been a work van, I would’ve liked it a lot more, but eventually it became our only vehicle, which made driving very uncomfortable. My mom misses it a lot more than I do.
Thanks for reading.
Song of the Day: Ray Vaughn feat. Samara Cyn & Sydney Leona – JANKY moral COMPASS
“I’m tired of being shot down, put down and dissed I wanna be picked up, held tight and kissed But things like this don’t happen to dudes like me Because I’m more Coldplay than I am Ice-T” – Murs, “The Pain”
⚠️ CW: Brief mention of domestic violence ⚠️
*Some names have been changed.
It’s Valentine’s Day. Pretty pointless holiday, if you ask me. I’ve always believed that if you really, truly love someone, then you don’t need a day to celebrate it. Because you should be celebrating that love every single day. That being said, though, I’ve never really been in love. Well…that’s not entirely accurate. I guess maybe I’ve experienced unrequited love. But that’s really about it.
So, seeing that it’s V-Day, I figured I’d take you through my love life. Don’t worry, this won’t take long. However, to give you the full picture, I’ll have to take you back a bit.
I was born in 1985 in Cincinnati, Ohio. Mom was a model (she had a brief contract with Ford Models at the time) and dad was a pro football player (he played tight end for the Bengals, Eagles, and Giants, but spent the most years with the Bengals). They met at a party. I don’t know much about my dad other than what my mom has told me about him, because shortly after I was born, he walked out on my mom and I. Unbeknownst to her, he had 4 other families and didn’t want a 5th.
My dad wasn’t a good man. He simply wanted my mom to be arm candy and nothing more. He wouldn’t even explain the rules of football to her, because to him, football was a “man’s thing” and “why do you need to know anyway” so when my mom would hang out with the other WAGs at the games, she would have no idea what was going on. When they disagreed on things, he hit her, several times. I won’t go into detail, but the damage he did to her was pretty bad. That, plus the aforementioned multiple families thing, is why they got divorced when I was less than a month old. After that, it was just me and her. Until my grandparents got sick.
My grandparents were high school sweethearts. My grandfather was a Welsh man. My grandmother was a Creole Black woman–her family was from Shreveport, Louisiana. Both were only children, and their parents were also only children, so both of their families were very small. And even though interracial relationships were highly frowned upon back when they first got together (according to my mom, my great-grandfather hanged himself on my grandfather’s wedding day, because he didn’t want his son marrying a Black woman), they got married anyway. And they stayed married for over 50 years. Eventually, my grandmother was in a car accident and became legally blind. Then she became bedridden. By the time I was born, the senility had set in for both of them, so they were barely talking to each other. My grandfather would hang out in his “computer room” (that’s what we all called it since it was an office with my grandfather’s computers, books and whatnot, but really it was more of a man cave) and turn the TV in there up loud enough to drown out my grandmother’s voice. Then the bad habits came. The cigarette-smoking. The pipe tobacco. The alcoholism. Several decades later, my grandfather passed away from pneumonia. Three weeks later, my grandmother died of a stroke (apparently it’s possible to literally die of a broken heart). Even through all of the bad times, the love was still there.
Then I grew up. Would I experience that kind of love for myself? The answer may shock you. Just kidding, it probably won’t.
I’ve never been good at talking to women. Everyone always says it’s easy, but it’s not. And people always give the same advice. “JuSt Be YoUrSeLf.” Sure, tell my nerves that. But that didn’t stop me from trying.
First, in 8th grade, there was Bethany*. Prettiest girl in school, and she knew it too. One day she approached me and asked if I had a girlfriend. Of course I said no. Then she asked if she could be my girlfriend. Of course I said yes. Then, when I saw her the next day, she pretended to not even know me. Laughed at me in front of all her friends and said something like “Ha! As if I’d let a guy like HIM be my boyfriend!” I shrugged it off and went about my day. How do you even respond to something like that?
Then, high school. You might be surprised to learn this, but high school wasn’t a good time for me. In 9th grade, I ended up going to a boarding school for the first semester. Not as punishment, mind you…quite the opposite, actually. I was friends with the principal of my middle school and he ended up leaving that school to go be principal at a boarding high school in some small town in Ohio, so I ended up going there too. It was a VERY small school. I’m talking less than 30 students in the entire school. While I was there, I met a girl named Evelyn*. She was super pretty AND super nice–the perfect combination. One day, while we were walking around campus I sang Sara Smile to her. She was impressed with my singing, but even after I officially asked her out, we agreed to just be friends. There were others. There was Rochelle*, who was my age and liked me a lot, but I was too shy to officially ask her out. Plus, her big sister Ashley*, who was in 11th grade, didn’t like me anyway, so she wouldn’t have approved. Then there was Julia*, who liked how much I was into computers. Keep in mind this was 1999, so the Internet was just starting to get put into schools and whatnot. Unfortunately I made the mistake of telling one of Julia’s friends that I had a huge crush on her and word got back to Julia, who pretty much stopped talking to me altogether after that. Didn’t matter, anyway, since my mom eventually pulled me out of that school after one semester because of my shitty grades.
From the second half of 9th grade to the first part of 12th grade, I went to an all-Black Catholic school. It sucked. I never felt like I fit in there. Some of the girls there were cool though. One girl I met there in 9th grade had the same last name as me and we used to always joke that maybe we were actually related and just never knew. I wasn’t her type, though. Then there was Amelia*, the homecoming queen. I had French class with her and she apparently had the hots for me. I simply thought she was just messing with me, but every time we had class together she would wink and blow kisses at me. Even invited me to sit in the back of the class with her once. She kept saying how she wanted to go to prom with me and I kept brushing her off, thinking she wasn’t being serious, because what the hell kind of senior wants to go to prom with a freshman??? So, prom came and went, and she ended up going with some other guy. I found out later from one of my friends that yes, actually, she wanted to go with me and NOT the other guy, but because I was too dumb to pay attention to her signals, she thought I wasn’t interested.
Then in 10th grade, there were two girls that liked me a lot, Maria* and her best friend Jessica*, who were both in 12th grade. Maria was a fine Latina girl and Jessica was a Black girl with freckles. I never met a Black girl with freckles before and Maria was fine as hell (even with her braces), so I was immediately drawn to them both. Plus, they were both super nice. So nice, in fact, that one day Maria gave me her number (!!!). Did I call it? Of course not. In my mind, she was just being nice. No way would she ever actually want to hang out with me. Turns out, yes, actually, they both did. But nothing ever came of it. They eventually graduated and I never saw them again. (Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Years later, after I graduated high school but still lived at my grandparents’ house, Jessica worked as a cashier at the drugstore up the street. I saw her there one day and recognized her. We talked for a minute, but again, nothing ever came of it.)
12th grade was weird. For whatever reason, the principal decided to shake up everyone’s class schedules and many 12th graders (including me) ended up in classes with 9th and 10th graders. That’s how I met her. Allison*. The first girl to ever really, truly like me. She was a freshman. Black, cute face, had her hair cut like Halle Berry back in the day. She was also very, ahem…well endowed. Okay, she had huge boobs. There, I said it. Anyway. One day, I was eating lunch by myself (I was the only 12th grader in my lunch period and didn’t know anyone else other than the teachers) and I looked across the room and saw her. She kept whispering to her friends at her table and looking back at me. Oh great, she’s laughing at me. Fucking great. Then she walked to the front of the room, said something to my English teacher, and pointed to me. Why TF does she keep pointing at me??? Then she approached my table. We talked for a few minutes. She saw me reading a gaming magazine (I used to bury my face in magazines at school so that people would leave me alone–obviously, it didn’t work) and we talked video games for a minute. She had a PS2 like I did and was heavy into RPGs–she loved Dark Cloud at the time. Then the bell rang and I quickly speedwalked to my next class.
Later that day, she called me at home. Apparently she got my number from one of my friends at school. We talked on the phone for hours. It became our daily habit. Eventually, one day she decided to ask me out. I don’t remember how she did it, but it was very casual. Unfortunately, after we were dating for a couple of months, I ended up transferring schools. It happened so fast that I didn’t even get a chance to clean out my locker. One day, I called her after school and decided to break up with her. She was simply too much younger than me and, to be honest, she got very attached to me and I just didn’t know how to handle it. I’m used to girls rejecting me. Laughing at me. Teasing me. And now all of a sudden one comes along and she’s literally obsessed with me? And she thinks I’m handsome? Laughs at all my corny jokes? How am I supposed to handle that??? Truthfully, I didn’t know how. But the main reason I broke up with her is because at my new school, I told some of my classmates that my girlfriend was younger than me and they started laughing at me, calling me R. Kelly. I told her this and she suggested that we keep seeing each other in secret and simply just not tell anyone. But I didn’t want to do that because it didn’t seem fair to me or her. So I broke up with her and never heard from her after that.
Fast-forward some years and I’m helping my mom run her computer shop. At this point, after being single for a long time I had decided to try dating again. So I made a profile on OKCupid. That’s when I met Tiffany*. She was a BBW (it was right there front and center in her OKCupid profile so I guess she was okay with the term), short, glasses, shoulder length brown hair. We talked on OKCupid for a couple of weeks before we eventually met in person and we hit it off pretty much right away. She majored in music at the college up the street from my mom’s shop. She was also a huge nerd. At first we bonded over our mutual love of video games, but we also found out we have similar taste in music too. We hung out constantly. The problem was that we were both huge introverts. One day just for funsies, we both took the Myers-Briggs personality test. Turns out, I’m INFP and she was INFJ. Eventually I learned that two introverts will probably never end up in a relationship with each other. Because eventually somebody has to take charge of something. But neither of us did. She was one of those “I don’t like putting a label on things” types and I didn’t want to pressure her into anything, so we pretty much just stayed friends with benefits.
Then, when things in my personal life got bad (that’s a story for another post), we lost touch with each other for a while…until one day she hit me up on Facebook and told me she was getting married. To a woman. I was hurt at first–I used to joke to my friends that sex with me was so bad that I turned her off of dick altogether–but I got over it. I’m just happy that she’s happy. Even if it’s with someone else. And yes, she invited me to her wedding…and no, I didn’t go. I figured it’d be too awkward for me being there, so I pretended I had something else to do that day and completely forgot about it. We still keep in touch nowadays…somewhat. We’re “friends” on PSN, so I see her online once in a while. But neither of us has reached out. I’m okay with it.
So. What was the point of all of that? I guess I don’t really know the meaning of true love. But of course I don’t. My dad left when I was literally just a baby. I was born too late to see my grandparents’ relationship at its peak. And even when my mom dated around and eventually got remarried, my stepdad (RIP) wasn’t around long enough for me to pick up any pointers on love from him, either. Maybe I’ll never have a relationship like my grandparents. Maybe I’ll fall in love again. Or maybe I’ll just be single forever. Only time will tell. But I’m hoping that I’ll be happy with whatever happens. Because happiness is very rare for me nowadays.
Thanks for reading and happy Valentine’s Day.
Song of the Day: Jill Scott – Pressha
Jill Scott is back! Her new album is great. Highly recommended.
Bonus Song of the Day: Von Pea & The Other Guys – Chasing Amy aka In Your Heart
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