So I finished up college and all that, and after all that much ado about nothing, I moved back home and just stayed there.  I didn't go backpacking in Europe and get to stay in hostels where I could befriend other wide-eyed wanderers, or even emerge from a pub drunk so I could haplessly meander into the red-light district and accidentally stumble into a brothel.  I didn't travel to a secluded jungle and mingle with the local tribes or dance around a fire, or go to the amazon rainforest to eat exotic fruits and encounter the bizarre fauna.  Nope, I didn't do any traveling abroad or wild adventuring.  I just stayed home and sat there.

And no, I am not looking for credit or sympathy.  According to Richard's xanga entry, we are all actors in a play we call life, and I am a drama king (according to Christine, the melodramatic queen herself) so I see it only fit to overdramatize my life. 

Despite the shortage of festivities and lack of celebrity treatment that accompanied the conclusion of my college career, it was still one of the best feelings in the world.  I didn't have to worry anymore about midterms, finals, homework, or going to class.  I didn't have to worry about anything, I was done.  I had all the free time I wanted.  Soon though, it became one of the worst feelings in the world.  I had too much free time.  I had no idea what the hell I was gonna do all day at home.  Life got pretty boring, pretty fast.  On an EKG reading, my life would probably be a flat line, with no peaks of excitement.  If it were a movie, my life would definitely not be an action movie (side note:  I wanna go on MTV's MADE and be made into an Action Hero, where I calmly enter a narcotics safe house, pull out my double berettas in a sudden movement so as to flare out the sides of my long black trenchcoat, and unload total carnage until it's all done and silent, and all you hear are the white doves flying off into the distance as I wipe the stains off my black sunglasses and leave as nonchalantly as I came with a maniacal smile on my unflinching face).

So my day would basically consist of spending countless hours online, chatting, browsing, and what not.  Once I got tired of that, I would go watch TV for hours until I got tired of that, after which I had no other choice but to go back online.  I got pretty good at switching back and forth between the two events and tricking my brain into thinking it was doing something different each time.  Even though this was extremely boring, I was amazed at myself at how well I could make the time go by just by sitting on my ass and being in a vegetative state.  The highlights of my day would be going to work out, where I would finally get out of the house, or watching Laker games on days they played, but most of they times they lost, turning what was supposed to be a higlight into a complete waste of time.  Yeah, that was my life.

In addition, I didn't have a job yet, and that was really worrying me.  Most of the time I spent online was looking for jobs, until my job basically became looking for jobs.  I wasn't getting many replies and any interviews that I did get didn't lead to anything else.  I was pretty down, and these were depressing times.  I had no stability in my life.  I'd go to Indian casinos and test my luck there, but I would lose each time.  Speaking of Indian casinos, there was this one time when I went to Pechanga, and there was a guy who won $15,000 playing blackjack.  It was insane, and what was crazier was the way this guy was playing.  He was drunk and played every hand exactly the way you aren't supposed to play it, and he knew it too, but he'd bet big and win.  It was comedy.  This guy was a real character though, he wasn't a boisterous drunk at all, he was a smooth drunk and casually smoked cigarettes as he played his hands.  He kinda looked like Johnny Knoxville and he wore his pants low, so that you could clearly see his ass crack as he was sitting, almost as if he was showing it off on purpose.  I'm sure he knew, but he didn't care, he was winning a shitload of money and I'm sure the pit bosses and security guys thought he was a real jackass.  But man, did he play with style.  Anyways, in the end he cleaned out most of the dealer's chips, and they wouldn't restock the table with more chips.  So he walked away with about 15 grand, and even tipped the dealer $300!  Damn, maybe I should become a dealer.

Yeah, so anyway, back to my uneventful story.  I had no job and I was losing money (in addition to losing another thing that was a major part of my life, which we don't need to go into).  Times were rough, and it reminded me of a line from a Naughty By Nature song, where it goes "If for not bad luck, I would have none." 

But anyway, in the end, my luck improved, and I finally did get a job at an IT consulting company in downtown LA, and I'm gonna be moving to Monterey Park to be closer. Yay!