Crying in the Sink: When Did I Become That Cunthole Steve?

"I like playing games by the pool/Who invited Steve?/That dude's a cunt."

Did I become Steve or something when I touched down in Virginia again? Seriously, what the hell? It seems like a bit of a strange thing to talk about, especially when the circumstances aren't really understood. Are you familiar with the group known as the Lonely Island? They're that comical rap group off of Saturday Night Live. They've brought to the world such classic hits as Jizz in my Pants, Dick in a Box, Lazy Sunday, I'm on a Boat, and most recently, Mother Lovers. The songs I'm referencing are Just 2 Guys and We Like Sportz, which both feature straight-forward lyrics from the aptly titled Guy #1 and Guy #2. The character foil in both circumstances is the lovable "cunt/hole" Steve. Steve just looks like a guy that wants to party with Guy #1 and Guy #2, but he's always called a cunt/hole and walks away disappointed after a spirited entry. Poor Steve.

So why do I call myself Steve? Quite simply, I feel like I want to belong but I'm denied entry. It's a cold world, I think, but I don't think geographical positioning should be the deciding factor between a feeling of warmth and a feeling of harsh chilling temperature. When I was in Atlanta I felt great. I could take or leave the school, but the environments and the people were great. I was happy to be down in that humid dorm of mine with my loud, obnoxious neighbors. I was glad to be around people I consider family (and not just in name but in good faith) and, hell, I was even glad to meet my female counterpart, even if future meetings will probably end in violent verbal wordplay. When the date approached for leaving that city I grew more and more depressed. I didn't show it; why would I? It's not in my nature to show others my pain (a trait taken from my mother, more of which will be revealed later I'm sure) so I wore a mask of a man so strong and saved my tears for nights when I was in my dorm alone.

I keep saying that I'm a good man and that karma is going to kick in soon. What would karma be? A job for one. The money for school would be even better. A couple of stress relievers (situations, not drugs) would help too, but since my lifestyle doesn't make room for stress the need for them alone is scary. A good girl? That would be a plus. Some way to go to several concerts taking place here in VA would be great too. I hear Method and Red are putting on a concert in a few days. I'd love to go. I can, I have the money, but I feel like Steve. Steve's a cunt.

It's hard for me to write this one. It's like no one is really listening but God, and God's making a way for it to resolve itself but it won't come around for a little while. While we're on the subject of God, let's narrow that down to the meat and potatoes of this post: my church. I can't say I don't love my church because I do love it. I've been here for nearly 20 years, I'm almost obligated to love it. I was baptized at my church, learned Catholicism from my church, hell, that church should be my second home.

But it isn't, not anymore at least. When I was in Atlanta I discovered a few things about Catholics and I have to say that they piss me off. It all follows a very strict chronological order too. When you're a baby you're just that: a baby, a trophy of cuteness and social status that gains the parents and godparents entry into various ministries and excuses into not going into others. When that child gains sentience he or she becomes a fresh recruit. He or she is put into various jobs and duties that he or she has no clue about. There's no explanation, no reason, just a notion as basic as procreation: it has to be done. The kid gets older. They get a bit smarter. They start to question what's happening and this is bible study, Sunday school, the works. The education is nice, but the explanations can leave a nasty under taste or a false impression. Everything isn't always explained and it could be, and now the kid falls into either one group or the other: one that follows the code blindly or one that follows the code while maintaining an air of personal conviction. Guess which category I'm in.

As Sunday school became a distant memory I started to grow a voice in church. Unless that church is run by youth then anyone under the age of 25 is dismissed. There were many occasions where I spoke out and would have been right, but my voice was dismissed. Granted, there were times when I spoke out and I would have been wrong too, but my voice was still unheard. Everything I did was a testament to my blind loyalty to the church, and despite the notion that they have I don't. I don't have blind loyalty to anyone or anything. My loyalty comes with long periods of observation, experience and trust, so only so many people have my loyalty, and even that isn't completely blind. It could be clouded.

Today was another time that my voice was left to drift carelessly in the wind. For the longest time I've said many things, some of them being:

• Younger folk in position in the church
• More scheduling, less spur of the moment
• New volunteers
• Less usage of the dependable

I can understand why I've gotten some flack for the last of the posts but that ties in directly to my greatest beef, at least the most recent one. This morning I was woken up by a phone call from my mother. She told me to call my friend and to go help out at the church. Was there a reason? No, not to the best of my knowledge. It was simply an order; I say order because it wasn't really a request. A request can be refused and there will be no hard feelings on the side of the one that made the request. Orders are expected to be done without any sort of disagreement. Because I know how argumentative and unproductive an argument with my mother could be (yet another trait I picked up from her) I just called up my friend and a few hours later we were out of our respective houses and at the church. We expected work to do, a lot of work at that, but that wasn't the case. In fact our arrival was just as unexpected as our lack of work. Sure, we were given times and assignments for tomorrow, but that could have been done on the phone. So we were at church for a total of eleven minutes before we left and got some chicken. Then we went to the mall and complained for a little while before leaving.

The circumstances lead me to bring up something I had mentioned before: poor communication and negative reliance. Why were my friend and I contacted? One, because the eldest at our church like to make the younger ones do things without them knowing the reason. Two, because our dedication to the church is so strong. There's a problem when you always call on those that will be there when there are others that could be and want to be. That's not to say that we didn't want to be there, but we DID want something to do. It was convenience and I personally have a problem when I'm contacted simply because of convenience. Why me?

But why do I feel like Steve? I want to belong to my church, but right now I feel like a perpetual book stand. I'm there, and I'm a great help, but I'm unnecessary and I can be easily replaced. The irony is that when I reach the age where I get respect I'll more than likely be somewhere out of this state. Why were we contacted? Because we don't get respect.

That's a little extreme. It's more like I'm dismissed and disrespected. I can see the hypocrisy of it all, but I can't do anything about it. I'm howling at the moon basically, trying to gather something I can never reach. I'm not literally crying in the sink but that's what I feel like doing... in a proverbial sense. It doesn't accomplish a thing, but it helps to vent.

The point I'm trying to make is that my age is my downfall for the moment. Poor communication and lack of support results in my damages. Besides that, getting people like me to do so much stuff at such inconvenient times just isn't a good look. I was going to take today to work on job applications, scholarships, football games and possibly a female or two, but instead it was spent doing just one application, desperately seeking more, doing no scholarships, playing one football game and wasting about two hours of my time doing nothing but waiting to go home. There were a few hours where I was chilling with a friend of mine and that was fun. It may even be enough to redeem the rest of the day (would have been for sure if that trip to the mall didn't result in so many rejected job requests). But you can't constantly call the same people for the job; it pushes them away. For a long time I had to wonder why people didn't come around the church I frequent in Atlanta. There's something called dedication, and it has to be built up. I stay around because if I really didn't want to do something, if I absolutely and unequivocally didn't want to do something then I wouldn't have to. I didn't want to feel like Steve today. I want to be part of it, but I don't want to be rejected. I felt like Steve. Then again, maybe because I'm that loudmouth I have no choice but to be Steve.

"He's not a loudmouth like that cunthole Steve"