Well, I've been in a weird mood today... I've been pondering all my failed relationships, yet though I'm somewhat nostalgic, I'm not depressed.

I don't hate any of my exes. I'm not mad at any of them. And in virtually every case (there are an exception or two), I know exactly why we're not together. And it's usually a good thing. For one thing, few of the girls I've been with would really able to handle my current lifestyle. And I'm capable of taking chances with my career that I simply couldn't, otherwise.

But still, I miss hearing Andrea sing. I miss getting into philosophical debates with Jolie, and losing. Damn, that girl is smart. I miss Sarah's good heart. I miss the other Sarah's wit, and mastery of everthing that I prided myself on... I miss most everything about Anna, during the time when I was important to her.

I think of them, and get warm fuzzies. I wish I could have them back, if just for a little while. But life is not about backwards motion. No matter how wonderful something is, you can never return to it. And if you can accept that, the future is a better place. There's always something in the horizon that is better than what is left in your wake. All those girls I just mentioned are married now. It would be arrogant to think I could possibly make them happier than their husbands do. And I've never been accused of arrogance. Or sarcasm.

I really want this to be the year I get my career going. And to do so, I can't afford to be worried about the toll it will take on a relationship. Luckily, there aren't exactly any girls lining up to try to change my mind. Although, if there are any girls reading this that might want to try - here's a hint; it's all about plentiful sex. Lots and lots of it. Possibly with some of your female friends involved.

Okay, it was worth a shot.

Some of my exes, I remain very close friends with. I can't imagine not being close to Lynnette, for instance. It would be weird to go too long without touching base with her. I wish that were the case in all of them. But as a good friend of mine told me tonight, "part of the human condition is that it is sometimes necessary to shut someone out to get over them. They leave you in their wake, or you leave them in yours... It's part of being human."

I want to be a superhero. I want to save the world. Unfortunately, my superpower is the ability to play "Brown-Eyed Girl" and "Margaritaville." There's really not an arch-nemesis for that. Maybe the sound system at "Pat O'Brien's" - if so, I'm so getting my ass kicked on a regular basis. Besides, how do you draw a comic book around that plot?

But I'm so happy with my life that I want to fix all the problems in my friend's lives. And I can't do that. It's very hard to accept that I can't make everybody happy. I can't save the world for anybody but myself. I'm my own superman, and my own kryptonite. And we're all that way, when it comes down to it.

And to all you superman fanatics out there - I know what green kryptonite does. I know what red kryptonite does. But what does the gold kryptonite do? I always forget. And doesn't "Kryptonite" by "3 Doors Down" have great drumwork?

Well, to all the people left in my wake, and in whose wake I am drifting. I miss you guys. I hope our paths cross again, and if not, I hope your path has a lot of happiness, and very little kryptonite.

Jester

Well, I may have met my match.

Not in a love interest kind of way, just in case you're thinking that.

I was riding in the car with Katie, and though she is FAR more aggressive a driver than me, she's also at least as aware of everything and everyone on the road as I am... Usually I'm biting my tongue trying not to point out all the things I see. She's reacting to them faster than I could say anything, even if I wanted to. So then, we get to our destination, and she parallel parks her car with all the ease and accuracy I use.

But to top it off, she was singing in the car, and she's a lot better singer than I am, both lead and harmony.

Crap. I am going to have to kill her.

Anyway, I'll kill her later, because she's also a much better cook than I am, and has been cooking incredible meals for me the last few days. On my birthday, she made "Blackened Shrimp Fajitas" for me. Then I went over to George's, where he had made some sort of Curry sauce over rice, and Amy had made me a birthday cake.

I got cards from Kristen, George, Amy, and Vicki (all co-workers). Everybody from my family called, except my sister Tammy, who probably doesn't have my phone number. But she mailed me a card with a very sweet message. I heard from a couple of college friends, as well.

And then I got to go to work, which I love. And I realized what a damn lucky guy I am. Best. Birthday. Ever.

My step-dad Robbie decided, in lieu of a regular present, to spend a week of his vacation doing construction work and renovations on my apartment. Talk about a present! I love my family. I love my job. I love my friends. In fact, I love my life, and I'm not even drunk.

The former "Love of My Life" did indeed forget my birthday. She either remembered the next day, or read my blog. So she emailed me saying I probably hated her for missing my birthday, which I found rather amusing. After all the shit she put me through, a missed birthday is nothing. I only mentioned it before because she'd told me last year it was easy to remember, and she'd never forget it. Of course, at this time last year, there were a lot of "never"s and "always" that didn't quite make it to now. Not that I'm bitter.

Christine did not forget, though... She called, wished me a Happy Birthday. Is having a rough time, but she just got her first modeling gig at her new place, so things are starting to look up. Now if her life would just settle down long enough for her to be able to spend a day or two in New Orleans...

My dance teacher has quit teaching. I'm rather bummed about that. It's the one downside to my life right now. There are other teachers there, but none of them are as analytically minded, and capable of explaining the mechanics of everything as my last teacher. I just hope Katie gets really good really quickly, so I can take from her. But I'll still miss Ashley like hell.

I got a new refrigerator. The one I had could hold about two days worth of food, at best. And I couldn't keep all my liquor as cold as I like. The new one is HUGE. I spent two hundred dollars on food at Wal-Mart after I got it, and I didn't even fill it up. Some of that may be because I ate a lot of it as I was putting it up, but still... It's AWESOME. And very cold.

Well, on that note, I'm going to go make some more food. I'm hungry. Just want to say it again:

Best.
Birthday.
Ever.

Jester

So, here it is.

28.

27 is gone, never to return. I'm not just in my late 20s - I'm in my very late 20s.

On the one hand, I'm starting to accept that I'm no longer a teenager. I feel more confident about myself than I ever did in my teens, and I feel more in control of myself and my environment.

But late, late 20s? When the hell did that happen?

I wonder - is there a point where I'll actually feel like an adult? 'Cause I really don't, right now.

27 was by far and away the best year of my life, and not just because it's 3 to the 3rd power... I've been living in New Orleans for one year now. When I moved here, I had no idea what a change to my life it would be.

I'm accepted here in a way that I never was, and never could be in Texas. It's very, very rare that people ask me if I'm gay. And if they do, they seem to accept that I'm not. Now, it's much more common for them to assume I'm arrogant. And of the two, I much, much, much prefer to be assumed arrogant.

I'm considered attractive to women now. All my life, I've been the guy who watches all the other guys get dates. I've been the "friend" who listens as the girls bitch about their asshole boyfriends, and then tell me how they need a guy like me (right before they return to their asshole boyfriends). I never got the chance to be the asshole boyfriend. I think I could've done it well, but that's another matter. Now, I can get a date anytime I want one. Admittedly, it's with tourists, so there's no chance for a relationship.

But there's a certain appeal to that, as well.

During my 27th year, I got to be in love with a girl I thought was in love with me. I got shot down, of course. This is the life of Jess Mills, after all. But still, to have had it for a little while was a gift that I had given up on long before. Of course, I've gone from being "the most important man in her life" to an occasional "how are you," and I'll give you 20 to 1 odds she's forgotten my birthday. But still, as cynical as I sound about it, I'm okay with it. The fact that it didn't work out leaves me with my freedom, which I cherish more and more every day.

This is the year I became a good singer. I'm not a great singer. But people that I really respect and admire respect me as a vocalist now. That's a change. I'm mostly a good entertainer - I put on a great show. I think of myself as a great pianist (though George Rossi, my co-worker, is a better pianist than me). But a good singer? That's new. I always put up a front of being able to sing, and I always thought that I was adequate. But I wasn't, and I sucked, and deep down, I knew it. I'm still nothing special - but I'm good. And for now, I'm cool with that. If I'm no better when I hit thirty, I'm going to be pissed.

This is the year my sister graduated college. Talk about proud - nobody from my family was expected to go to college, except possibly my brother. Well, he did, and then I did, and then Amy did... And we all did well, in different ways. David was commencement speaker at his graduation, was a legend in his math department, went on to a full ride at the Air Force Institute of Technology, where he got his Master's degree on a thesis that I can't even spell. I did pretty well in college - I didn't flunk out, and I didn't burn out. Amy got a 4.0 - which is even MORE incredible when you consider she's raising four kids, and works full-time. And she graduated during my 27th year.

This is the year that I paid off my car, and most of my credit cards. I'm behind - I was supposed to be mostly out of debt by now. But I'm paying it off rapidly, and look forward to the day when I owe no money to anybody. That way I can rack up some more!

This is the year I became the life of the party. You come to see me at Pat O'Brien's, and I can almost guarantee that you're going to have a great time. I'm not up there in a supporting role anymore. I'm not hoping for a good crowd. I make it happen. And what a privileged position that is!

This is the year I learned to let go. When I'm frustrated, but can't change things, I can let it go now. When I'm mad, but can't express it in a constructive way, I can just let it go. When I want something (or occasionally someone), but I realize that I just can't have it, I can let it go. I let go of so many things to come here, and once I was here, I had to keep letting go of things. And I've learned that it's not bad to do that. That holding on to things can be unhealthy at times.

So now, whether I wanted to or not, I've got to let go of 27.

I'm not ready for my 30s. The 20s have been so good to me. But this was such an incredible year that I can't help but be hopeful about 28. If it's half as good as 27, I'm in for a helluva ride.

Happy Birthday to me!
Jester

P.S. No, I have no idea why I'm awake at 9:00 in the morning.

Well, I'm back from Texas.

Some of the things that I missed, man, I understand why I missed them. Texas skies at night are still the most beautiful. The Texas highways are wonders of modern engineering. I could talk to strangers on the street without them asking me for spare change. You still see guys in cowboy hats tipping their hats to girls as they walk by.

And the mexican food. The most divine culinary creation ever. Oh, do I miss that. I'm sure anybody who had to ride in the car with me wasn't as enthused, but...

They say you can never go home again. So in a way, I was expecting a huge change when I went back. Well, San Antonio hadn't changed. The grass was still brown. North Star Mall was still overcrowded. Pat O'Brien's San Antonio was still fun. The Blanco Cafe is still incredible.

Pleasanton? Well, the run-down Plestex 3 Theatre that I used to run is now the rather posh Plestex 4 Theatre, with great parking, new concession stands, a new Box Office, new bathrooms... It looks great. It doesn't feel quite like the place that consumed 9 years of my life. Still, I guess it's rather telling that I stopped by there before I did anything else. And other than that, Pleasanton is exactly the same as when I left.

My family is still much the same. My sister Amy still looks like a teenager. She's now a College Graduate (4.0, baby! You ROCK, Ames!), but she's the same bubbly girl that I've always looked up to. My brother David is now a father of two, but he was always the mature adult among us, anyway. My Dad is starting to look a little older, but he's also gotten really fit. So now he's got the suave older man thing going. Mom and Robbie look the same. June Hurley is still obsessed with Clay Aiken. Yeah, the family is changing, but they're still the same. My friends Caleb, Maggie, and Jacob haven't changed (though Maggie insists she's gotten fatter. Women).

So was it home? Yes, and no. I realized that it hadn't been completely home for a long time. I'd grown beyond Pleasanton years before, and I think everybody but me knew it. Not that it's hard to grow beyond Pleasanton, but still...

When I got back, I wondered, is New Orleans home now? Not Texas? And I had one of those moments where you realize something about yourself that is maybe obvious to everybody else, but not to you. I am never at home, and I am always at home, because for me, home is a state of mind, not a location. It's where you feel comfortable, and in place. And to a certain degree, I carry that wherever I am. On the other hand, I'll never have all my family with me, and all my friends with me, and it would take that to be completely at home. But wherever I am, whether it's in a hotel room, or my bedroom, or onstage, or walking down the street in a strange town, I'm at home, and I'm not. There is no Fortress of Solitude for me; what home I have, I carry with me.

And that's a very freeing thing. Now when I go visit someplace, it's not for the location (unless it's some location I've never been, like Ireland, or Brazil). It's just for the people. I don't have to go somewhere to remember my home. And when I'm there, I don't have to miss my home. If I go to St. Louis to see my Dad and Step-Mom, or Colorado Springs to see David, or Pleasanton to see Mom and Robbie - it's all home.

One thing I did love about the trip - my sister got to see me onstage for the first time since my Senior Recital in college. She got to see me play, sing, entertain, and just rock the crowd. And though my brother had seen me before, I'm much, much better now.

Well, as you can tell, I'm in a kinda serious mood, and I know all three of you who read this do so for the humor. So I'll leave you until I'm in a more entertaining mood. Talk to you soon, and keep writing!

Jester

I'm not a big fan of Playboy pictorials. As porn goes, it's incredibly lame. And as the for selection of women - it's usually fake blondes with fake tits staring blankly at the camera hoping someday they'll either have a thought or a sugardaddy to make sure they never need one. Their turn-offs are rudeness and bad breath, and they all love puppies. Who gives a shit? I sure don't. I've dated several girls who were prettier than 99% of those cookie-cutter clones. And I've never dated a girl as vacuous as most of them seem to be.

Having said that, a friend of mine just gave me the June 2004 Playboy, which is now my favorite edition of all time, for five reasons:

1) Charisma Carpenter naked (Cordelia, from "Buffy" and "Angel")
2) The Playmate of the Month was Asian (ever since falling for a Filipino girl last year, I'm totally entranced with asian girls. And Hiromi Oshima? Damn hot)
3) Charisma Carpenter naked
4) Playmate of the Year Carmella DeCesare - totally shaves. I'm all about the shave.
5) Did I mention Charisma Carpenter naked?

Of course, I tried to express how wonderful this edition was to Christine, and for some reason, she thought I was being a typical male pig. What gave her that impression?

In other news, I'm getting ready for my trip to Texas. Man, I'm so excited. Of course, I probably won't be getting any during the trip, and that sucks. But still, overall - it's going to be great. I get to see my family, and I've missed them a lot. Plus, some of them haven't seen the new short haired and clean-shaven Jess.

Well, I'll talk to you all soon (if you're not so disgusted by this rant that you never want to speak to me again)...

Jester