Conor - In My Element

Springfield, IL. Population, 118,033. It's a nice place, filled with nice people.

I've been back since 3:30 AM, Wednesday morning and immediately I was reminded why I miss this place so much. 3 friends were waiting for me when I got here, and after grabbing some stuff to eat from the local supermarket we got down to to business and played 2 hours worth of Mario Kart. They left around 6:30, and I crashed into bed.

Such was my welcoming party home. It was grand and extravagant and everything I wanted. It's not like I've missed Mario Kart terribly (although my hours invested into this game has decreased worryingly this week. 8 hours? DEPLORABLE.), I've just missed our special brand of competition, hate, and love. Brian and Eliot fought for last place, gloating inappropriately every time they finished in 9th instead of their usual 12th. Everytime I managed to edge out fucking Baby Peach for 2nd place, I did my victory ritual, which looked something like I imagine a pterodactyl's touchdown dance would look. We complained constantly about how lame it is that Robert plays with the steering wheel thingy, ignoring how soundly he defeated us pretty much every single race. At around 6:30 in the morning my dad came downstairs to start his day, having been woken up slightly earlier than normal by Robert's shouting of "FUCK FUCK FUCK" one of the few times that I beat him. We played through every map consecutively because we were too dedicated to a joke. Brian was mean. Eliot was spiteful. Robert and I were perfect.

This is what I miss. This is what I had been waiting for. The good times have been rolling since I got here, and I have no reason to believe the good times will halt said rotation anytime soon.

Tonight was pretty perfect. I practiced with BAND PRACTICE for 5 blissful hours, where we made some of the best music I think we've ever come up with. Things just really came together today, thanks in no small part to Clayton Penrose-Whitmore, who is amazing. Call mez. I got to pretend to be a rockstar again tonight and I cherished the opportunity. I got to see a bunch of old friends, and I'm making new ones, too. I'm talking to people from Springfield who I never got the chance to know when I lived here. I'm glad I'm getting to opportunity to know them now before I fade awaaaaay.

I went to Little Saigon, this brilliant Thai/Vietnamese place with a couple of really good friends. There's a transition here, trust me. Tynan and I played the game there. The game is a concept I keep coming back to in my mind. My friends and I, here, in Springfield, we play the game constantly. The game is our life. The game being the way we joke. Someone makes a joke, some continues, and we hit the concept back and forth to eachother, volleying it like a tennis ball. Sports! Seriously though, it's like a sport. We compete, always trying to take the idea one step further. Today the game resulted in the idea of Meatboy, a superhero who shoots meat from his wrists like Spiderman (only with meat [instead of spiderwebs {the difference between Meatboy and Spiderman is that Meatboy fires meat}]). He also has meat breath, which has a pretty disgusting sound associated with is. See, in Oklahoma, they don't play the game. I'm not saying they don't play A game. I have tons of friends in Oklahoma who are as funny and witty as anyone I know in Springfield. We just didn't spend the past few years honing our art together. I need to give it time. I'll find another game to play with these fools.

Which leads me to another thing. For now, at least, these two worlds have coexisted wonderfully. I'm happy in Springfield and Norman. I realize there won't be a party every time I'm back. I realize I won't be able to see all of these guys every break. I realize that a lot of these friendships can't last forever. But so far, they pretty much all have. I've been keeping in touch with all my friends back home remarkably well, while managing to live a life in Norman. For now at least, I can have it all. I'm really liking that.

Tonight I got everything I wanted. In a selfish, awesome way everything went right for me tonight. I don't demand more nights like this, I mean I wish they happened more often, but I'm content with this one while it lasts.

This night is lasting pretty damn long, by the way. I've downed one Monster (I refuse to acknowledge the contradiction in my recent decision to stop drinking soda for my health, and my terrifyingly regular Monster consumption [fuck]), I've had a bowl of Frosted Flakes (with 2% milk instead of my regular choice of skim [fuck]) and Brian, Eliot and I are playing Final Fantasy XII. We, uh, we haven't made much progress. But that's okay. A beautiful poet told me that it's about the journey, and she has never led me astray. Why would she start now.

I hope you have all had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and here's to the next, better holiday that's on it's way. Ham > Turkey. Let the asshole who disagrees be known to the world.