I had a good day today. Unfortunately, it ended bad... as usual.

I had the sudden urge to go shopping. I don't know what for, but I just wanted to get rid of my money on things that I probibly won't use. Mom felt like shopping too, so we went off to Hickory Hollow Mall. We parted ways and did what we wanted to. Meet back in an hour at the food court next to that area with all those hyper, screaming, disobediant children. I hit up the usual places and did what I normally do in malls. I looked at video games I'll never afford, movies I'll never get, fashion that look good on the model but don't on me.

I then went to my favorite kiosk in the mall. A little place called The Bazaar. It's kind of like an Asian specialty store that carries mostly knives and swords. Some for defence, some for decoration. All cheap... well, for the most part. There are a few things that are very high quality, but you have to shell out some mega bucks for them. Hey, you get what you pay for, I guess.

Anyway, this cute looking guy was working the kiosk. He had blond hair, gotee, and obviously a punk of sorts. What is the deal with me and the punk boys? I don't know. Anyway, I was looking at a wooden practice sword (katana style) when out of the corner of my eye I saw him messing around with a butterfly knife. I asked him how long it took him to get that good with flicking it around like a pro. He said he's been training since he was 12. He meantioned that his instructor was Filipino, as if he was alluding to something. I just stared at him and nodded a "cool." I continued browsing the swords when I noticed once again that he was messing with two butterfly knives. I said, "Okay, now you're just showing off," jokingly. He smiled back goofily and said, "Nope, I'm just practicing."

When my aunt was here (the nun) recently, I showed her a pendent that we found after they left from their trip up here when I was graduating. It was of baby Jesus on what felt like some kind of treated wood. She said that it wasn't hers. I asked if it was anyone else's that was here last. She said she doesn't think so. We don't know who it belongs to, but now it's mine. My aunt thinks it's a sign. Whatever it is, we've been taking care of it since graduation untill she came back thinking it was hers. Gift from God maybe?

I had that in my pocket and I've been doing every time I go out now. I don't know why; maybe it's starting to be my religion. I asked the guy at the kiosk if he had anything I could put it on. He suggested some hemp rope. I've had the pleasure (or curse) of using that once before with semi-decent results. I figured why the hell not?? I needed a project. He offered to show me two different braids that he knows. I politely declined saying that it was going to be my new art project for a while.

I then took my change and went to Tilt. I played pinball first. Hey, I only had $1.25 change. That's only enough for one DDR game. Since the South Park Pinball game is only 50 cents, I figure why not? I actually did pretty good. I got my first "Kill Kenny" bonus on my first ball. My game ended with a really bad multiball session. After that, I droped the rest of my change into DDR.

I met up with mom at the food court. She wanted to walk around some more and shop. I figured why not? Thirty minutes more and we'll then meet at Sears to leave.

I went back to The Bazaar. The guy was still working there. I told him that I am seriously considering it, but I'm not sure. He had other customers to attend to, so I just looked around again at things I've seen already. After getting hit on by girls too young for his taste, he said that he wishes someone from downstairs would come up and take his shift so he could go to the bathroom. He just looked at me and said "Dude, can you just stand there and watch all this for me?" I laughed at his request, but agreed to. While he was off doing whatever, I actually did pretty good keeping an eye on the three carts. The only thing I had to do was tell all these kids not to touch or point at the swords because they could hurt themselves. They didn't listen. The phone rang a few times, but since I didn't work there, I didn't pick it up. When the guy came back, I told him he had a call. He said it was probibly someone wondering where his boss was. I was starting to wonder that myself. I looked at my watch and saw that I had 10 minutes left. I decided to just go ahead and by the damn wooden practice sword. As a result for "being so cool and watching the carts," he gave me a discount! That's the first time I got something for being charitable outside of a feeling of accomplishment and that I did some good. It felt nice.

I went by Hot Topic and looked at their sticker case. I needed a sticker to pacth up a nasty scar on my sketchbook. I end up buying four. One of which was a gay pride sticker. I don't know what kind of lapse in judgement that was. Maybe I was just in a good mood. I ended up spended 34 cents more than I had. I told the girl that I had to break out my rare $2 bill. She didn't want to break it, so she dug around the tip jar. Lo-and-behold, my luck from before carried over! They had exactly 34 cents in the tip jar! Sweet, huh?

As I walked back to Sears, I felt like I got some stares from people around me. I mean, I was carrying a wooden sword with me! Come on! You're bound to get stared at if you were like me and carrying a wooden sword! I also felt a smile draw on my face. A good feeling came over me, and I finally felt kind of happy. Not the true kind of happiness that I've been wanting for the longest time that I can remember, but still a good feeling.

We ate out at our favortie Mexican place and started exchanging stuff about what we thought was going on with my sister's date. When everyone met back up at home, we found out that some of our jokes came true! My sister's boyfriend had two $10 gift cards for dinner at O'Charlie's. They ended up getting change off of them!! Can you believe it?! My sister had to tip the server, though. Her boyfriend doesn't carry money. Talk about cheap, huh? Oh well, he's a good guy.

Dan called the house and left a message for my dad. While my sister was telling us about her date, dad was talking to Dan. I thought that maybe Jack or someone talked to Dan about me and got him to call. Conversely, I also thought that Dan was so pissed off at me that he was going to take it out on my dad. I mean, as far as I know, Dan is so pissed off at me he wouldn't shit on me because I'm not worth his crap on my head! I was trying to keep my mind off it by putting my stickers on my sketchbook and listening to my sister's story. Didn't work. I kept thinking What if this good day ends bad like all the other good days I have? Then as I was trying to get the stickers off the backing so that it would stick I was thinking WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THOSE BREAKS IN THE BACK THAT MADE TAKING THESE OFF EASIER?! While I was blogging this, dad came down and delivered a message to me. He said that Dan would like it if I talked to the boys online. "He said you'll know what that means." After that, dad pretty much gave what sounded like social warnings mom would give. Be nice, be careful what you say, don't talk to them too long, etc. The last part kind of faded into a blur. I was just wondering what it was that Dan told him those two hours he was talking. I still do. I know I'm better off not knowing. In any event, I somehow got to keep in contact with the boys if only online. I felt greatful, confused, and a little bit happier than before all at the same time. I also felt colder in my heart. It was a weird feeling. Almost as if my heart was saying that it doesn't want to end up getting burned again.

Halfway through my paragraph about my second trip to The Bazaar, one of the boys popped. I talked to them and thanked them thinking that they had something to do with Dan calling. Turns out that Dan called of his free will. No one talked him into doing it. I was stupid to think that Jack or anyone else there had some kind of involvment in that. My only excuse is that I am a foolish dreamer. Always will be. That didn't fly. I came off as being disrepectful. I made them feel like it was a stupid idea for them to even try to reestablish contact with me. The IM was short and to the point after that. In fact, they signed off just before I finished the last paragraph above.

When they left, I felt like I did before. No different than I normally do. I still had that hole in my cold heart that needed to be filled once my heart was melted. I still felt thirsty. I still felt dizzy and light headed. I still thought about that cute guy at the kiosk I met. I still thought about my art project that I'll be starting tomorrow. I still felt like what one of my stickers said; "If at first you don't suceed - failure may be your thing."

I still felt like I had a good day.