In order to put the past behind us tho, I need to address what happened. So that’s the motivation behind this post.

Most of you don’t know the whole story of Sarah and I. And that’s either because I haven’t said anything about it or because I’ve only relayed half-truths or outright lies. If you knew the truth, I’m sure you may not have a high opinion of me. In fact, writing it out makes me feel pretty awful about the things that I’ve done.

So in order to set everyone straight, I’ll just say that if you’ve heard me say something disparaging about Sarah, forget it. Over the past four years, she’s always been a constant presence in my life. And she’s been willing to accept me back no matter how hard I’ve pushed her away.

I’d like to say that I didn’t push very hard, but that wouldn’t be true at all. I couldn’t commit to us for three out of those four years — and because of that, this last year has been hard. But we’ve made long strides. Hopefully, we’ll continue to make them.

I guess what I’m saying is, I’m sorry for the things I’ve done. And my only regret is not realizing all of the hurtful things I was doing sooner.

The next four years will be nothing like the last four tho. We’re going to build a life. A family. A home. Getting to do that with my best friend — and the most beautiful girl in the whole world — is all I could have ever asked for.

It’s time to mark the start of another year on Sarah‘s calendar. She’s now officially the age where she can get a break on her insurance and rent a car without any penalties. And while that’s kind of boring compared to the American porn/tobacco/voting age (18) and the booze/nightclub age (21), I still think its a respectable place to be.

Happy quarter century, my lovely little doe. I love you so very much that my heart feels as if it might explode every time we touch or I’m near you. May your next quarter century be as interesting and full of potential as one you just completed.

Sarah tried to make friends with a goat over the weekend. The goat had other ideas tho…

Speaking of art exhibits, Sarah and I took a day trip from Bakersfield last weekend to go attend Coop‘s Brand Recognition opening at sixspace.

It was something that I promised Sarah that we could go do and I’m glad that I got the chance to take her to do it. As a reformed rockabilly, she was so excited to get to meet Coop in the flesh. She seemed to beam for most of the day — from the trip out, thru the exhibit itself and during our victory dinner of Monte Cristo sandwiches at Jerry’s.

I’m really happy when I get the opportunity to show Sarah why I love LA so darn much — and I’m even more happy to see her loving it too.

I finally managed to see Brick with Sarah this weekend — and I’d go so far as to say that it’s probably my favorite movie of the past year. Then again, I’ve always had a soft spot for film noir inspired work.

Perhaps one of my favorite bits of the movie were the snappy, rapid fire verbal acrobatics. How rapid fire was it? Let’s just say that at times, the delivery would have made the Gilmore Girls head spin.

Brad Bramish: Oh yeah?
Brendan Frye: Yeah.
Brad Bramish: Oh yeah?
Brendan Frye: Yeah.
Brad Bramish: Yeah?
Brendan Frye: There’s a thesaurus in the library. Yeah is under “Y”. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Renting this totally made up for seeing “Snakes On A Plane” on Friday…

I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. I lie. To everyone. Tiny, intricate white lies that pile on top of one another until they fall over and crush me. Since I’ve never been one for being crushed, it’s time to start coming clean…

I’m 28 years old and I live at home with my folks. I always have. I’ve never lived anywhere else save for the room that my brother and I shared until he moved out at 17. I’ve never had any sort of roommate other than him. I probably could have afforded to eek out a pretty shitty existence in a tiny studio apartment eating ramen for the past couple years, but that never sounded all that appealing. Before that I’d had enough amassed enough debt that I couldn’t manage to even think about doing anything like that.

Thru all of this, my folks have been wonderful and understanding — but I know I need to get out there and be an adult. Other than the past 9 months worth of car payments and insurance, I don’t think I have an ounce of adult responsibility in me. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s not good.

Some of you already know this. But almost everyone I’ve met in the past few years has been fed a mistruth when my living situation comes up for discussion. I tell people that I lived on my own for a bit, but I moved home to help with my mom after she came out of the hospital. This way, I come off like the good son instead of the loser who has been too afraid and broke to leave the nest. Sometimes the lie changed a tiny bit to suit the audience, but for the most part, that was it.

[To keep myself from sounding too horrible, my mom did go into the hospital a few years back. And when she got out, I was here to help her recover — but I never moved back like I said I had. I'm not a monster, honest.]

So for those of you who I told this to, I’m sorry. Please forgive me for not being able to man up and tell you about my situation. I know in a lot of cases, it’s not that big of a deal. But in one case, it may have cost me the trust and love of the only girl who has ever managed to love me as much as I love her.

I’d get into it more, but I really don’t have the strength or the will to write another word about it. I’m running on autopilot at this point. Besides, it’s a private issue for the most part. I just figured that if I was going to come clean with her, I may as well come clean with you guys too.

I’m sorry Sarah. I’m sorry everyone. If you feel like you can’t trust me anymore, I understand.

It looks like my insecurities have gotten the better of me yet again. And while I know that it’s easier said than done, it’s time to shed those insecurities and grow up. It’s time for me to be a man.

I say tentatively because I’m still waiting on an offer letter from a colocation facility up in Los Angeles which I interviewed at a few weeks ago. It’s supposed to be in my inbox sometime tomorrow — but I’m not going to do much more than consider it unless they manage to do better than the proposal I was given this afternoon.

To be perfectly honest, this couldn’t have come at a better time. Despite saving up for such a scenario, both my former employer and the EDD have given me the runaround on collecting unemployment. And what I mean by the runaround is that I haven’t managed to collect a cent of it since I filed for it months ago.

I was very fortunate that I saved what I could before I was let go — which wasn’t very much I might add — and could pare back my expenses to live off of it for two months before I had to beg and take temp jobs. Also having a lovely girlfriend who was extremely understanding about having to cut back on what I could spend when I came out to see her was rather helpful. Even if it meant taking the occasional weekend off from one another and cutting back on our entertainment budget, she was a total trooper.

Not a lot of girls are willing to deal with spending a lot of time watching bad cable TV and DVDs with their recently unemployed, long distance beau whenever they do manage to get a weekend together — especially if they haven’t been dating for all that long. Despite all that, I’d be willing to say that spending all that time together cuddled up and making fun of the crap we watched between loving on one another probably managed to bring us closer together. *shrug* The heart works in mysterious ways, right?

But I digress… As of next Tuesday, I’ll be amongst the gainfully employed again. I’m hella excited at the opportunity I’ve been given — but to be perfectly honest, as jazzed as I am about the job, I’m just as excited that I’m going to be doing my job from a proper Apple workstation. Yeah, I’m going to have a company issued Mac on my desk. And while I don’t really need one to do what they’re hiring me for, they just wanted to make sure that I was working with an OS that I was comfortable with.

Man, I can tell that I’m already going to like working here…

• Walking into A New Hue¹ to find my girl rocking the red hair.
• Bringing Sarah home to meet my folks.
• Three Words: Raspberry almond cake.
• Having beers at Rob and Lisey‘s place.
• Heading back to my parent’s place for breakfast burritos.
• Getting a nod and a thumbs up from my mom as we left my folks’ house.
• Going to the Cabrillo Marine Aquarium.
• Jellies!
• Being told, “You know, I’d really have no problem moving here to be with you.”
• Snacking on appetizers at Mao’s.
• Wading into the ocean barefoot at Venice Beach² while holding hands.
• Talking about marriage and kids with neither Sarah or I freaking out.
• Distracting a pack of zombie seagulls with kettle corn to make a daring escape.
• Fatburger!
• Getting to play with a MacBook.
• Being given a personal check for “services rendered”.

I’m sure that a lot of this makes no sense when it’s disembodied and taken out of the context of our weekend, but I sort of don’t care… It means a whole bunch to Sarah and I — and that’s really all that matters to me right now.

What can I say? That girl is my universe, yo.

1. Warning: Comic Sans ahoy!
2. I might have hepatitis now, but it was totally worth it for the moment we shared.

The room is lit only by a 5 year old Ikea desk lamp made from translucent black plastic and my Powerbook screen. Every so often, a text message from Sarah makes my Sidekick chirp in faux 8-bit harmony. I flip it open, fire off a response and go back to farting around on the internet.

I need to find something substantial to do, before the boredom eats away too much of my brain. I could write a post for Preshrunk, but I’m suffering from some fierce writers block.

Somebody save me, please.