Finishing The Fight

The Halo video games will always have a special significance to me. Way back in 2001 I was introduced to Combat Evolved by my cousin when I got my first Xbox and needed games for it. I bought the game and played it straight through that night. I still vividly remember sitting alone in my room at 2am playing through the 343 Guilty Spark mission, the eerie feeling washing over me during the mid-level cut scene when I first encountered the Flood. The next morning I couldn't wait to play it again with my friend Michael. These were the days before Xbox Live, and we made our own fun out of multi-player co-op. We invented games like "Football" and "Warthog tossing" and tweaked games like Halo Hide and Seek or Tag. Everyone else had gotten bored with the game, but not us. Halo was our game.

When Halo 2 was announced, we were beside ourselves with excitement. Michael brought over a magazine one afternoon and explained how the AI soldiers in the game would now be able to drive Warthogs for us. His eyes grew large at the announcement of duel wielding weapons. Every news break about the game was huge. We watched videos online of how we would be able to board enemy vehicles and detach turrets from the ground. Our minds were blown. We theorized on the story and where it would go. We both read the Halo novels The Fall of Reach, The Flood, and First Strike in anticipation for the game. We were the epitome of fan boys. Michael called me late one night, telling me that there was going to be midnight releases for Halo 2! A video game launching at midnight? That was unheard of at the time. No way would we miss it. I told him to call me later that week and we'd plan on which location to go, where we'd play it, etc... But Michael never called. That week, Michael died in a car accident on his way home from work.

I stopped reading the Halo news. I stopped watching the newest videos and details. I even stopped playing Combat Evolved. Without Michael there was no fun to be had in Halo anymore. My other friends didn't find our made up games as amusing as Michael and I did. When I did play Xbox again, I played different games; Madden mostly, just needing a distraction. Then one day I found an old video game magazine Michael had left at my house. The very same magazine that he brought over to show me all the new features Halo 2 would have. I picked it up and leafed through it nostalgically. After a few minutes, I picked up my controller and began a run-through of the campaign on Legendary. Several hours later I finally finished. It was the first solo legendary run I had ever done. Every step of the way I felt like the maps were familiar places, venues in which Michael and I had played together of years. Halo wasn't a reminder of the loss, it was a reminder of the fun times. I couldn't stop playing Halo. Michael wouldn't want that. I was going to be playing this franchise to the bitter end.

November 9th was almost here. I stood amongst strangers in line at GameStop (Maybe it was still EB Games back then, I really can’t remember), waiting for midnight to get my hands on the game that Michael and I had anticipated for so long. Talking to the strangers in line however became an experience itself. They were the first people I had met since Michael that I could talk to excitedly about the game and theories from the novels. The wait was genuinely fun and memorable, and when my number was finally called I didn't feel as though I had been waiting too terribly long. I took my copy of the game home and stared at it for a moment. Holding the game in my hand felt unreal. It was a confusing emotion. I shrugged it off and put the game in the Xbox. The opening sequence began and I was in awe. Everything seemed cinematic and grand in scale. The scene wrapped up. I was now standing at the blast doors with a BR in hand, waiting for the Covenant to blast through. I paused the game. A wave of emotions crashed over me. Sadness that Michael wasn't here to experience this with me; Excitement that the game we had longed for was finally here; and as cliché and cheesy as it may sound, I felt like I wasn't alone. I un-paused the game and proceeded to unleash holy hell on those covenant bastards for the next several hours. When Breaking Benjamin (One of Michael's favorite bands) came on during the climactic battle between the different sides of the covenant, a smile hit my face that I couldn't remove. The game was perfect, all the way down to the cliffhanger ending, a concept that Michael and I had both loved about the second Matrix movie. I sat in silence after it was all over. That cliffhanger...Halo 3 was coming, but Michael wouldn't be here to geek out with over all of the news.

I wouldn't be alone in my Halo geekdom for too long. I got swept up into the world of Xbox Live. I logged countless hours on Halo 2, making friends with random people along the way. Playing Halo 3 I ran into a friend from high school and we began playing together quite often. We even got so close with some people that we played with online that when they decided to transfer colleges, they chose UNF so that we could all live in the same city and actually hang out. Then came Halo Reach. One night I caught a Facebook status of my friend Shaun from high school wondering if anyone wanted to play Halo Reach, and I responded. It had been years since him and I had even talked and we barely knew each other, but here I was playing with him, his wife Lauren and their friends, Heather, Jamil, Kevin, and Kevin (Fez). Since that time I've grown close to every one of them. I lived with Shaun and Lauren for over a year since then and to this day share a family plan on my phone service with them. Heather and I share a few nerdy interests in the form of TV shows that the rest of our group doesn't watch, Kevin and I play Destiny together nearly every night, Fez and I bond over our love of UFC, and Jamil shares my nerdy passion of the Halo novels and all things Halo cannon just as Michael once had.

Halo may be "just a video game" but it has been the catalyst of a lot of significant parts of my life outside of video games. It's crazy to me how something simple like that can be so significant. Halo has become a tradition for me. Every time a new Halo game comes out, I get it at midnight. I schedule my vacations accordingly. I don't join my friends right away on release night. Instead I play the campaign alone first. I play it straight through, just as I did with every Halo game before. And when it's over, I sit in silence for a minute and remember Michael, and how much he loved this game before it ever became the huge franchise that it is today. I enjoy the games enough for both of us. Then I join my friends and begin to terrorize the War Games, and I teabag annoying players for Michael, because Michael thought tea bagging was hilarious. I will forever be a fan of Bungie and of 343 Studios for their work on these games and all the memories I have because of them. I will forever be an advocate of embracing the things you enjoy and your love for them. For those who see video games as an anti-social experience, locked away inside your house, alone in front of a TV: I present the counter argument that video games are an amazingly interactive social experience. Through video games I have made friends on opposite ends of the country, and even a few in other countries. I play games constantly with friends who are too far away to see in person on a regular basis. For me personally, I relive old memories with lost friends through video games. To me that is priceless, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Born again (Frank Turner at Underbelly)

Thursday night is an unusual night for a concert to me, and Underbelly was a new venue to experience. The chances of me missing a Frank Turner show however were non-existent. It's not often your favorite artist from the UK comes to Jacksonville, Florida for a show ten minutes up the road from your house. I made my way across the bridge to start what promised to be the most fun you could have on a Thursday.  Underbelly is directly off of a busy downtown street. Its tucked between a pizza joint and what I'm pretty sure is a closed down building, used strictly as a canvas for artwork on the boarded up windows. At the top of the building there is shrubbery growing from between the cracks of the bricks. I'm sure this wasn't allowed intentionally, yet the grimy wild plant life sets a pleasing contrast to the concrete and steel surroundings of the downtown city streets. On a normal sunny day you could look in any direction and see buildings towering over your head, but this evening there is an abundance of fog and mist in the air, and the Jacksonville skyline is nowhere to be found. If I told you to imagine the early 90s in Seattle, a line of people propped against the wall of a dive bar waiting to see Nirvana back during the birth of grunge; This is the scene you’d come up with. My upbringing in the Sunshine State had deprived me of this sort of atmosphere for any shows in the past, but tonight I finally got it and it felt oddly fitting.  

The weather was the only thing that was dreary. The crowd is energetic and excited to be there. Everyone is social and the small talk passes the time well. Talking to random people in line I learn I'm not as big of a fan as I thought. That...or I am living my life all wrong. The majority of these people have been following Frank Turner from show to show since he flew into the states. One group followed him from Boston, another from Greensboro. The cute girl in line next to me came down from the Carolinas, the black X's on her hands still not completely faded, refusing to wash off from the last show.  The ones I'm most envious of however are the group that is following him on a cruise to the Bahamas. What I wouldn't give to be able to drop it all and travel the globe with a band, going on cruises and traveling city to city and experiencing this on a nightly basis. I can't help but think that these people have life all figured out. This crowd had already given me the Almost Famous vibe, but the parallel was cemented in my head when a young guy excitedly approached the venue with his friends quoting the movie. "It's all happening!" Suddenly I have visions of Frank on someone's rooftop shouting "I am a golden God!" though I don't think that's entirely his style. 

I met Frank earlier in the day. He's my kind of rockstar. He moseyed on down the road with a dog-eared book in hand. He quite clearly had been reading it everywhere he went. He casually walked right past his tour bus and over to me and another fan. We were the only two at the venue at that point and he greeted us warmly. After he departed back to the bus I couldn't help but wonder what book he was reading. "From the Gulag to the Killing Fields" edited by Paul Hollander" he told me later that evening when I asked him on Twitter for the title once the rest of the crowd started wondering as well. Earlier in the day when we spoke I asked about his own book and he admitted to me that he didn't even own a copy of it himself, so none available to be sold tonight. I'm told that despite the lack of a U.S. release of the book at this point, I can find it for my Kindle at Amazon.ca. This will have to do until I can get my hands on a hard copy. Given his propensity for writing, his apparent thirst for knowledge, and his general outlook on life I can't help but have high expectations for the book. Frank has the demeanor of a man who has shed every ounce of bullshit from his life and spends every second of his time simply being happy. Why wouldn't he? That's the life of a rockstar isn't it?

Back to the evening, we're finally let into the venue. The atmosphere inside Underbelly is fantastic. Everyone is really relaxed and friendly. The walls are all brick, decorated by hand paintings of completely random things. A psychedelic Ewok adorns the wall by the merch stand. An emergency backup light is disguised by a painting of a frog. (The eyes are the lights, clever). A projection screen plays a strange and seemingly random video on the wall behind the bar. I'm not sure what to make of it, but it seems fitting. I would later find out that the video was simply Netflix, silently playing a movie called "The Painting". As I mentioned, it works for the atmosphere. Chandeliers and lanterns up high provide dim lighting, setting the mellow mood. The style of the venue is hard to describe, if I had to give it a shot I'd call it industrial southern punk. The bar offers an assortment of mixed drinks, and craft and locally brewed beers. I give the bartender the benefit of the doubt and have him choose my drink. He slides me a beer of which I've already forgotten the name, but it makes you understand the argument for craft beers over the usual suspects. I'm a fan, even if I can never order it again thanks to my bad memory. 

Perhaps my favorite part of the hour between doors and the start of the show is the mingling. It's an eclectic group, from so many different walks of life parts of the country or beyond, and yet we all share an unspoken connection. I can't quite place it; it's a mindset maybe, a common mentality or demeanor. Whatever it is, I feel comfortable around these strangers. I've noticed many amazing tattoos and struck up conversation about them. The nerdery in this place suits me well. A girl sharing a post with me shows off her new tattoo, still wrapped with plastic. It's a half sleeve devoted to Star Wars. The rebel logo atop her bicep flirts with her shoulder, while a mural of sorts with C3PO and R2-D2 rests at the forefront. Another girl shows off her Flash tattoo and her friend The X-Men logo. Others show me a variety of things from Dracula to dream catchers, doves to dandelions; each with their own story. In retrospect it's a shame that Frank didn't play his song "Tattoos" it'd likely have went over incredibly well here. As the first band begins to wrap up their sound check, myself and the masses move collectively closer to the stage. It's that time. 

The opening act is a local band by the name of The Weighted Hands. I had never heard of them, but they quickly made a fan out of me. They kicked off the show with a punk/folk rock sound that instantly brought the crowd into the show in a way that I've never seen before from an opening act. A 5 five piece rock outfit complete with a violinist and an occasional harmonica thrown into the mix. They have a humble stage presence. Maybe it's because this is their hometown, but they seem as though they climbed out of the crowd and started playing. No one seemed to know them, yet everyone danced along, and by the 3rd chorus of their last song the fans were singing along. It only took two songs before I knew I'd be buying their CD after the show. The wonderful thing about finding a local band that you really dig is that they'll be doing shows in your area more than anywhere else. I know this won't be the last time I see them perform. I've already marked the date for their next show in my calendar. 

Following The Weighted Hands was an artist by the name of Billy the Kid, a soulful female punk rocker that exudes charisma and an irresistible charm. By the end of the first song I'm impressed, infatuated even. She speaks between her songs with the presence of a stand-up comedian, making it impossible not to smile as she transitions from song to song. By the end of her set I'm more than infatuated, hell, I might be in love. She speaks of being from Canada. Whatever harm Justin Bieber has done to Canada's music scene, Billy makes up for tenfold. Not only was I sure to buy all of her CDs after the show, I made it a point to meet her personally and see if she's every bit the person that she is the performer. She doesn't disappoint. It turns out she's a painter as well and a bit of a philanthropist. Artists like Billy help to quell my inner cynic. She has a hell of an inspirational story behind her; she's the poster child for following your dreams no matter the obstacles.  I don’t have the luxury of knowing if I’ll see her again soon like I did with the first band, but I certainly hope to see her many more times.  

 

It's typically at this point of a show that the night feels it's longest. You're waiting for the headlining act to take the stage, everyone is positioning for a better spot near the stage, people are cranky, and fans are ready to fight for a spot close to the stage. This isn't the case tonight. Never in the hundreds of shows that I've been too have I seen this large of a crowd all getting along so well. We all sing along with what seems to be a Fleetwood Mac best-of album playing between sets. We dance and sway and laugh and joke. The vibe is an unconquerable happiness and intensity bubbling up with anticipation for the final act. The lights go dark and we erupt. Frank takes the stage and 20 seconds later the entire crowd is bouncing, swaying, swinging, and dancing. Wherever you were standing before the song started, it's safe to say you're somewhere else by the end of it. It's a friendly frenzy. The song was written for just this occasion: "A few precious hours in a space of our own, And when the band comes on, the only thing I really know: I wanna dance." Everyone in attendance seemed as though they were home, it was a sense of community like I've never seen or felt before in a crowd of that size, Frank included. As happy as everyone is to be at the show, Frank seems just as happy to be performing. 

I've long had a love for live music. There is something visceral about the whole experience. You feel the bass thump in your chest, the ground rumbles beneath your feet. Your body runs hot no matter the temperature. You don’t just hear the music, you feel it. The person next to you is a complete stranger, yet somehow life has brought you both to this exact place at this exact time as you sing along together like old friends. The artists who wrote the songs you love are standing 10 feet away, singing directly to you.  You feel a sense of freedom amongst hundreds or thousands of people that you rarely even feel when you're alone. You sing at the top of your lungs, your fists pump to the beat. You dance, without thinking, even when you know that you are a terrible, rhythmless dancer.  It's a high without the drugs. It’s the feeling people describe when they talk of religious experiences. This is the sound that has the power to raise a temple and tear it down. Rock and Roll is my religion and this show was my baptism. This euphoric rush that a good rock show gives you, it is an experience that I’d search for from dive bars to big music festivals. That’s the beauty of Rock and Roll, of any type of music really… The right lyric, the right chord, the right beat, it can grab hold of you and take you somewhere else entirely. That feeling could turn up anywhere. You might find it from a band at a big music festival. You might find it from the street performer strumming an acoustic guitar outside of the gas station. Maybe you’ll find it from a random stranger in the car next to you belting out their favorite song at the red light. You might even find it from trio of acts, from three different countries, sharing a stage on a foggy Thursday night in downtown Jacksonville, Florida.  

"Can’t knock the hustle"

When I was a kid I was a mini entrepreneur. I remember buying a bag of Jolly Rancher lollipops for three bucks. It came with about 15 lollipops. I kept the bag in my backpack throughout the day, and between classes I would sell them to my friends for 75 cents apiece. It didn’t take me long to realize I was making just over eight dollars profit per bag, and kids were buying these things like crazy. I was far too straight edge to deal drugs, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t have a better understanding of the people who did. I got to a point where I was selling three bags a day. I was the only 13 year old that was buying his own video games. Around that time, Pokémon was a huge deal, every kid in the neighborhood carried around their Gameboys ready to trade Pokémon on their quest to “catch them all”. I myself had caught all 150 of them, but wasn’t going to be satisfied until I got that 151^st and one-upped all of my friends. So I went to Wal-mart and purchased a Gameshark. I promptly used it to get my coveted Mew and mercilessly taunt my friends with it. Then I had an epiphany. I could give anyone any Pokémon they wanted. So I made a list, or a menu as it was. I put every Pokémon on it and set a price next to its name. At an additional charge, I’d even level it up for you. The neighborhood kids flocked to my house, allowances in hand. I made over three hundred dollars selling digital goods with something that I bought at Wal-mart for thirty bucks. I was also early on the CD burning fad. I made about two-hundred dollars selling mixed CDs before it became a common household technology and no longer a commodity. I’m not sure what happened to that entrepreneurial streak as I got older. I suppose like most teenage boys, I got distracted by girls. Still, I wasn’t afraid of a little hard work. My friend Michael and I used to cut grass around the neighborhood for extra money. After buying gas for the lawnmowers and weed eaters, it wasn’t nearly as profitable as selling Pokémon, but we did it anyway.  

The funny part about looking back and thinking of all these little money making ventures of mine, is I can’t for the life of me tell you what I spent it on. It couldn’t have just been video games. I wasn’t old enough to drive yet, so I had yet to discover the joys of wasting money to impress girls. I just know I was spending it about as fast as I was making it; Likely on junk food and comic books. I do remember that I was eager to get a real job. I loved the idea of a steady, constant paycheck. I started working as soon as I was sixteen. I stuck with the job for quite some time, but I remember hating it. At sixteen years old, none of my friends had money with the exception of ten to twenty dollars a week from their allowances, and here I was getting a paycheck, but I didn’t have any free time with my friends. I was sixteen years old when I first realized that I needed money to do all the things I want to do, but don’t have the time to do them if I’m busy working for that money. That never changed as I got older. Younger me was onto something I think. He worked smart, not hard. He did stuff he enjoyed and made money doing it, and while he didn’t have any desires bigger than going to the movies or playing video games, he was able to do all the things he wanted to do.  I’ve been a big fan of Frank Turner lately since discovering his music, and to quote him here: “No one’s yet explained to me exactly what’s so great about slaving fifty years away on something that you hate; about meekly shoving down the path of mediocrity. If that’s your road then take it, but it’s not the road for me.”  Despite how it sounds, I think hard work is crucial in getting all of the things you want out of life. Short of that winning lottery ticket, I don’t believe there is an easy button you can press that will get you where you want to go. I think the challenge we all have is in finding out where to focus that hard work, so that you’re not just spinning your wheels every day, but actually moving forward. The answer to that is different for everyone, and those who have it figured out are the truly happy ones. 

Good News Everyone!

Dance for me puppets! Dance! You see my amazing Twitter Jedi power? Ok, so chances are Jerry Jones doesn’t even know how to operate Twitter and never saw that tweet.  Even more likely is that he’d laugh if he did read it, and dismiss me as another know-nothing fan. After all, I have tweeted him numerous times over the years telling him to fire Jason Garret and it has never happened. I’m quite sure I started the #FireJasonGarret hashtag on Twitter.  Anyhow, this is all irrelevant.  The real point I am driving at here is that as an overly involved Dallas Cowboys fan, I am beyond happy with this move. So that was good news of the day part one. (Quick side note while still on the sports subject. My Florida Gators are still killing it in the recruiting ranks this year, holding strong at #1.)

The second good news of the day yesterday was a two-fer from my local radio station. Some idiot politician was trying to stop concerts from being put on at Metropolitan Park, which is (get this) an outdoor CONCERT VENUE! Apparently old people across the river complained of the noise and language from the concerts and this guy thought it’d be a good idea to stop those noise complaints by killing off events that stimulate our economy and please the tens of thousands of attendees each year. Yesterday several music enthusiasts showed up to the court houses to protest this bill and it was withdrawn.  Then, to top it off, X1029 announced that “Welcome to Rockville” this year will be a two day music festival instead of its usual one day lineup. I’ll be getting my tickets as soon as their available.

On a less “good news” note, I did not win the Newbie Award in 20SB’s Bootleg awards, nor did Sarah, who I vouched for in my last post. The good news here is that Rachael Emilee won the award and is a fantastic writer who is completely deserving of it. I actually nominated/voted for her in other categories as well.  Congrats to all of the winners.  I’m going to have to step it up and see if I can make a run for that “Blogger I’d like to get a drink with” award.

My inner video game nerd would be disappointed if I didn’t mention that Halo 4 has been awesome this week. The new episode of Spartan Ops is incredible, and I love that we’re finally getting all of these community maps. It’s amazing to me that we’re finding ways to make video games seem new and entertaining months after they’ve been released.  The formula being used by 343 right now is going to keep this game fresh well into the release of Halo 5. So far it’s all been at no additional charges, which is awesome in its own right. I’m looking forward to all the many new maps and features along the way, including Grifball next week!

This post was a bit all over the place. I know. 

A quick thank you.

I just wanted to address the fact that I was nominated for a bootleg award over at 20SB and say thank you to anyone who nominated/voted for me, it means a lot. When I started this blog I really had no clue what I was going to write, or if I’d even keep up with it. The 20SB community has been really great and it has kept me writing and always thinking of new things to blog about. I’d like to say for the record that I voted for Sarah from Sarah Being Sarabell in the “Newbie” category in which I was nominated. If you’re on the fence about who to vote for, give her a look.  That is all, but just to add a little bit of entertainment to this post… enjoy these comics my fellow super hero enthusiasts.

The Friend Zone

Today I want to talk to you all about an infamous vast space known as “The friend zone”.  It’s a popular topic. We’re all familiar with the term right? But let me drop an honesty bomb on some of you who may be living in a fantasy world. The Friend zone does not exist! It doesn’t. It’s not an inescapable territory you’ve wondered into with some guy or girl you know.  Brace yourself for the brutal truth: The friend zone is merely a scapegoat. It’s an excuse for that person to say “We’re just such good friends; I wouldn’t want to risk messing that up for a relationship that might not work out.” That is a lot easier and a lot nicer than saying “I really just don’t find you attractive at all.” The sad thing is that people are willing to believe it because it’s easier to take than the truth is. Let’s just get one thing out of the way early.  Men and women can be friends without it needing to be more than that. “Friends” is the default title for two people who hang out with each other and get along. So you can’t get all butt-hurt and take it personally if someone doesn’t instantly decide that they want to be more than friends. Why would you even expect that?

Before I lay in on my tirade about what you’re doing wrong if you think you’re in the friend zone, I should admit that this point of view is not coming from somebody that has never been in that oh so terrible situation. I’m no stranger to the friend zone.  If the friend zone was real, then I’m pretty sure I served a term as president.  I can tell you it sucks. It can sneak up on you too. One day someone asks you what the deal is between you and that person and you realize that you do everything a boyfriend and girlfriend would do, except for the benefits. Welcome to Justfriendistan, population: you.

How did you end up in this friend zone? You were probably were doomed to it from the start. But we’ll come back to that. There is a good chance that you were just an idiot. Ok, that’s harsh. What I mean is you probably are thinking there is more there than there really is. If you spend a lot of time with someone and the two of you get along really well, it’s natural to want to be around them more often. If you find that person physically attractive, then it’s easy to start finding more things that you like about the person. You start overlooking the differences and focusing on the things you have in common and you can no longer think of reasons why you’re only friends. You start questioning why you aren’t more than that. Congratulations, you’ve fooled yourself. Idiot. Now, if you’re complaining that you’re in the friend zone, then obviously the other person hasn’t fooled themselves as well, or back to that reoccurring sad truth, they never were attracted to you to begin with.  

Now maybe you really do feel as deeply for this person as you think, and you’re not fooling yourself. That’s not impossible, but the fact remains that they don’t feel the same. It’s also not a certainty that they aren’t attracted to you. Maybe they are. Maybe you’ve even tried dating before. Whatever the case may be, you’re not together, so someone is clearly trying to push the other into the friend zone, and if it’s not you doing the pushing, then… You get the picture.

It’s time for advice, and since it seems like there are a lot of different circumstances I am going to try to address all the ones I can think of. For starters, if you’re one of those guys who commonly say (or think) “I’m so nice to her. Those guys she dates are all assholes. Why is it that the guys that get laid are the assholes? Nice guys always finish last” You’re a hypocrite. If you just want to get laid then guess what? You’re the same as that “asshole”; you’re just less direct and honest about it. You’re treating her like a slot machine that you can fill with kindness until you hit the sex jackpot.  That “asshole” probably may not have the most pure intentions, but he was likely up front with them, or maybe just took more initiative to make things happen than you did. 

Earlier I said that if you think you’re in the friend zone that you were probably doomed from the start. Listen carefully, because this is the best possible way to avoid the friend zone. If you are interested in someone DO NOT WAIT TO TELL THEM. It’s perfectly acceptable to be friends first, but spend that time as friends with knowledge that you’re interested in more when the timing is right. Think of it like actors being type-casted. The longer you spend as friend, the longer you’re being cast into that friend role, and then you’re audition for that boyfriend or girlfriend role isn’t going to go so well. Making your intentions clear early on forces them to consider you for the part all along the way.

I realize that a lot of people may already be in pretty deep. That sort of makes that last chunk of advice a tad bit late. If you’re stuck in that situation and just haven’t worked up the nerve to tell them how you feel yet, it’s time to dive in. You may think they don’t know how you feel, but you’re wrong. At the very least they suspect it. If you like the person, make it known. Don’t hint around it, just say it. That DOESN’T mean to unload a huge confession of your love on them and freak them out. What I mean is to casually tell them “Look, I like you, and I’m glad we get along so well, but I’m not interested in being only friends. I’d like to take you out on an actual date sometime. If that’s not where you’re seeing this going then maybe we should cut back on how much time we’re spending together so I can spend more time with someone who is interested.” No, you don’t have to quote that word for word, just giving you an idea.

Last but not least are those of you who have already admitted to your feelings and nothing changed, then you need to get out now. Right now. It’s over and you’re only tormenting yourself. You don’t have to make some grand announcement to them or to anyone else. You just simply stop calling them, stop hanging out with them, and start hanging out with other friends. Go on dates.  You can answer if they call or text you, but keep it short. Don’t be mean. Just let them know you’re busy. There is a chance they’ll get jealous, and if they do, don’t read into it. Don’t assume that means they suddenly want you. It only means they miss all the attention they’re used to having you showering them in.  Who knows, maybe they will realize what they missed out on and change their mind, but let’s be honest, that’s probably not going to happen unless you’ve made some sort of significant change. You don’t assume they really want you until they say it themselves. Until then, you just go on with your life and let them go on with theirs. Regardless to if you end up together down the line, become good friends again, or never speak again, the point is that you’re out of your crappy situation and no longer miserable. No more whining about the friend zone. It doesn’t exist.

Social Network Etiquette Part 2

I've thought up a couple more things.. Allow me to continue my list.

8. Hashtags are for Twitter (Maybe Instagram, I don’t use it, someone fill me in). Hashtags are NOT for Facebook. On Twitter, they serve a purpose. They make a searchable topic on the websites that they were designed for, and Facebook is not one of those sites, you can’t click a hashtag on Facebook and it take you anywhere. I can’t tell you how often I get driven batshit crazy by people who say “I don’t like Twitter, Facebook is so much better” and then they treat Facebook as though it were a Twitter account by posting Hashtags with every status, updating constantly, “mentioning” people in ever post instead of just messaging them or commenting on their wall. Just make a Twitter profile already! But more importantly stop hashtagging things on Twitter!

9. Stop putting nicknames in your Facebook name. Your name is not Rocky “Powermoves” Jackson, It’s not Samantha “ILoveMyLife” Simmons, It’s not Christian “GetMoney” Manning. (The names are changed, but those are legit nicknames I’ve seen on Facebook profiles). I don’t think you’ll ever have a potential friend, employer, or date look at your profile and say “I must know more about this GetMoney Manning! He seems so awesome!” Never. Not gonna happen. Use your real name, or you might as well just put “HugeDouche” as the nickname.

10. This is a popular one, so I’m surprised it has remained an issue: STOP SENDING ME GAME REQUESTS! Seriously, why? Why are people still doing this? Why do I constantly have to “Block all requests” from the same game? There should be a “I want to opt out of all games in the Facebook network because I think it’s fucking stupid and I’m sick of these damn requests” option upon sign-up. Build your own farm, work at your own diner, guess your own songs, kill people for your own mafia, stop asking me to join so I can help you advance in your make believe fairytale fucking world. Prick.

11. Realize that your opinion or input is not needed or wanted by every one of your friends on every one of their statuses. If I were to comment on every status that popped up on my newsfeed, I’d have no time for anything else. Still somehow, some people seem to have something to say about everything they see. “Oh, Christopher just checked-in at Carabba’s? I should comment about how I prefer Chinese food instead of Italian and tell him what I had for dinner!” I mean seriously, I don’t understand why people do this.

12. I don’t know who starts these things, but the pictures with the “Like this if you laughed” or the “Like this in 5 seconds if you love your mother” “Share this photo if you love God” “Share this photo to help end animal abuse.” Those things need to stop. More importantly, the idiots who are actually liking and sharing these things need to stop it so this trend can die off already. I’m pretty sure there is nothing in any religion’s belief that covers social media and your impending damnation if you don’t like a picture. How much I love my mother is not going to be effected by liking of a photo, nor will an animal be saved from the clutches of Michael Vick because I shared a Facebook status.

13. Don’t post a picture you randomly took of yourself and caption it “Ugh, I look like crap!” Obviously you didn’t think you looked so crappy or you wouldn’t have posted the picture. We’re not stupid. Sure, that kid that’s been crushing on you for years and that meathead that wants in your pants are gonna comment and give you the compliments you’re so obviously fishing for, but the rest of us are going to roll our eyes and keep scrolling. 

Obviously there are exceptions to some of these rules, and far be it of me to tell you all how to conduct yourselves on Facebook. I simply am calling it as I see it. If you choose to go against these few guidelines I have laid out for you, that is your choice to make. I’m just trying to save you from the burning hatred of your peers.