My Analysis

December 13th, 2010. Thats the date of my last entry. "Where have I been?" was the question I asked myself. Where have I been mentally, physically, socially, and so on. Thats when I realized. None of that matters, and I'll tell you why. I was standing in my bathroom no more than an hour ago looking into the mirror. A toothbrush hanging off of my lip, and my hair curled from my nervous habit of twirling it. The sight was nothing spectacular, and nothing out of the ordinary. It's not like I looked into the mirror and said, "Damn, I'm a golden god. Bow down and worship this false idol." No, just me. A set of pale, blue eyes staring back with a quaint smirk. My mind empty. It wasn't in till I entered the shower, and felt the water cascade over my face, that I thought "Who am I?". I know, for sure, this much. My parents are Myron and Karen Jensen, and I have a sister named Amanda. My mom is crazy funny, and protective. She's a women of action before reason, but it's always from the goodness of her heart. My mom will say whatever is on her mind, and will never back down from a fight. She's independent, strong, and I love her. My Dad, is a man of reason, and intelligence. He's cool and collected with the occasional dirty joke. I have never seen this man extremely angry, and to this day I never want too. He may not realize it but he's taught me more about life than most, and I love him. My sister is quite a lot like my mom. She won't back down from a fight, and she will say whatever is on her mind. Both of these things with out any regard for human life. Yet, my sister and I get along better than most siblings. When we were younger she would dress me up in womens clothing and apply makeup. She called me Zachareta. This story doesn't embarrass me one bit, because I could easily embarrass her in a heartbeat. But I wont because I love her. I love my family, and I always will.

The next thing I care about more than anything are my friends. I'm not one of those people who has a battalion of "friends". Someone who constantly brags about how many they have, when in reality they couldn't give you your middle name. No. I have, count them with me, five friends. Five friends who know an obscene amount of detail about me. I'm not talking about your run of the mill questions like favorite color, favorite band, and blah-fuckin-blah. I mean real questions. What blood type am I, what are the two things I fear more than needles and heights, the names of my two electric guitars, what do I have a geeky/borderline creepy obsession with, and what OCD tendency do I have when I enter a kitchen. Too put it into perspective, I would let a crazed clown dentist pierce my skin with a 14 foot needle to withdraw my O negative blood to save their life as we are perched on top of the Burj Khalifa building. I would use my two guitars, Alice and Lyra, as instruments of death, instead of rock, against hordes of zombies to save them from a cruel, bone gnawing death. I would even keep myself from opening the fridge and freezer as I enter the kitchen just to save them money on the energy bill. Get it now? Also, there are your answers.

Now, I'm going to go over the biggest mistake/disappointment in my life, and how I came to play the guitar, which is my favorite hobby I must say. First the mistake/disappointment.

So...to start with this little tale of "why I am an idiot/whats wrong with me" I have to say this. I love my friends, but listening to them when they have logical information is beyond my capacity. So, I started to date this girl sometime in high school, maybe middle school, and I was smitten. I thought this chick was totally awesome, which to give her credit she was. She had great taste in music and a good sense of humor. A little quirky, but hey it was a good trait. Now, things were grand, and we always had a great time, but out of the blue over the summer she dumped me. NO BIG DEAL. I was young, and naive so I shook it off to show the manliness. Later, I found out she left me for who I would consider the largest tool in the known universe. It bothered me, but I had other things to focus on. Now, a few years later around Junior/Senior year I start to talk to her again. She seems to dig me, awesome. I talk to my best friend Jared to get his opinion. his wise words of wisdom are this "she left you before so be careful, but just maybe it's a genuine feeling this time" (I'm paraphrasing). I went for it, but sadly I should have listened to his input. She led me on, and ended up dating someone else. I can't say that this guy was a complete tool because, well, he was hilarious. So off to college I go. I have my ups and down, and lust after a girl I can't have. All in all a good experience. Yet, right before summer shows its bright, glorious face, this same chick started to talk to me again. She then presented me with this. " I know someone that likes you it's (insert name), and I also miss you". Now, a reasonable person would know the right choice. I however am not one. I chose to try again, and with this I told Jared. His response went something like this, "Why do you keep doing this? I just want to see you happy. Shes just going to fuck you over again. I guarantee it." In the end. It happened again, same guy, same situation, same correct friend. In my opinion, I was a play thing. Someone there to make her feel better when she needed it, kinda like a pick me up. It just lead to a false sense of security for me. The problem being...I enjoyed that little bit of attention way to much as well, its a drug for me. Thats why I don't listen too my friends. If there is even that chance to spend a single day or night with someone I care about I'll take it. Even if in the end it destroys me even more I'll take it over nothing.

Now, the reason I started to noodle around on the guitar.

So my senior year of high school I found out my sister's boyfriend (now husband) knew how to play the guitar. This was a plus, all I could think was, "maybe he could teach me, and I could have that sexy musician aura about me." Well, the only reason I thought this was because I was interested in someone at the time. I asked him to teach me one song and one song only, Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison. It was her favorite song, and I thought if I knew it it would equal "OMG!! How cute, you're so perfect!!" I practiced the few chords I needed, plus the lead guitar in the beginning in till my fingers bled. I was ready to surprise her, but it wouldn't matter. She ended up having that dreaded talk every man fears. The friend zone is where I ended up. The most depressing and inhospitable place as a man. A barren wasteland of false promises, and remains of so called "Nice Guys". I was to far in to even come back, so I didn't tell her I learned the song for her. I stopped learning the guitar after this. All I thought was it wasn't worth my time. I later picked it up again, thinking that I would be letting Simon (My sister's husband) down. I don't regret learning guitar just for a girl. Yet, too this day I still can't play through Brown Eyed Girl without feeling terrible. Even if it is one of the few songs I know all the way through.

So, it ends up being a bit of a ramble about myself. Not even a complete ramble about me, but enough, and this is what it shows. I Love my family and friends and they mean everything to me. Also, if there is a chance to have 5 minutes with someone I find attractive/interesting/anything, my beloved friends input is worthless. Even though I have been known to listen to them occasionally. Then, last but not least, I'll try to impress. It's important to me to know that you know that I care, and hey If you want to be treated like a goddess thats what I do. Too add at the end...I've been drunk for a majority of this post.

Then again...drunk talks are sober thoughts.