Sunday, July 25, 2010

Day 1

Today marks the start of a 10-11 day journal that I will keep chronicling what it is like to housesit your best friend's abode while he is away on vacation.

I sit here wondering why the hell I want a big house some day. This house is massive and I and my family are only three. Yet someday I want a giant house. I guess this is a life lesson. Big homes are only fun if they are filled with people you love. The house I am sitting in/ sitting is one such home every normal day of the year. Today is not normal, the next two weeks are not normal. I hate abnormal. I hate loneliness. I also hate pancakes, eggs, waffles and white picket fences. Oh, and vanilla ice cream. This may sound like a digression, however, it is nothing of the sort. The ones who occupy this home love to goad me about my "picky" tastes with breakfast food and my mom objects to my disliking of white picket fences. But all my dislikes are easily decoded by one simple yet dangerous idea that pervades my mind. I have an innate distrust of normalcy. The white picket lifestyle of 9-5 boredom and cookie cutter homes with boring housewives who drive boring minivans isn't for me. That is all so vanilla. I don't want a plain jane life (and I certainly don't want a plain jane wife). I want an exceptional one, exotic, free, fun, and dangerous (much like the woman I seek). So how does house sitting give me all this? Well, I guess it would help the reader to know that I am sitting at the very desk of a certain individual who I believe is very fond of doorbell ditching death. This unnamed but highly respected individual used to run around his backyard with a backpack full of bricks simply because he wanted a "workout." His exploits are far more than the played out impish quasi-badassery that we see so often on youtube. This is a genuine nutcase. I would know, I've heard some of his ideas of what would be "fun." Here's one: "Jesse, lets drive out to the desert with a handful of rations and a few essential tools and just survive for a weekend." So when I talk of living a exceptional life, I know that you need exceptional people in it. The desk I sit at belongs to one such person. A person who, if I have my facts straight, is on a plane as we speak (or I type) and headed to a land where badassery is not unusual, it is the status quo. So to you my friend, bon voyage! I hope and pray for your safe travels and I want you to come back from the future!

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