On the Warriors and living alone
What, is one title not good enough for you? Fuck you.
Just kidding. I love you. Somebody left me a comment about my writing today which reminded me that I wrote something last week. So hey, I’ll write something this week too while I’m on the site. I haven’t written any super-long posts yet so I hope this turns into one. But my rice cooker goes off in 25 minutes and I’m hungry so maybe it won’t.
I wrote last time that my words were accessible by billions of people. Funny then, that this is essentially a diary. A total of 3 people read my first two posts. And my first reaction to it all was “dammit, it’d be way cooler if nobody had read it”. Because there’d be something appropriate about that. Like having 1000 Facebook friends and no one to hang out with on a Friday night.
But whatever, did anybody watch the Warriors game today? Jesus, it sucked. As a true Warriors fan, I came in with the true belief that we would lose this game. Not the openly doom and gloom but secretly confident about my team type of belief. No, we leave that to those who do it best, Red Sox fans. This was a gut feeling that knew we got lucky in the first game and wouldn’t stand a chance on the road with Blake Griffin playing 40 minutes and Chris Paul in proper form. And unfortunately that feeling was right. We got killed.
But you know what, that’s OK. If you’d told me we’d get 1 out of 2 in LA and head back to a roaring Oracle crowd with home-court back on our side, I’d have said hell yes, sign me up. Playing at Staples and playing at Oracle aren’t comparable. I went to both Clippers-Warriors games at Staples this year, and the Clippers crowd is by the far the least passionate, least invested group of fans I have ever seen. Despite all the shit people give LA fans, Lakers fans are actually a really passionate bunch and they show up to support their team when it counts. You can’t say the same about Clippers fans. 60% of the crowd was there because they could suddenly afford to go to quality basketball games (Lakers tickets still cost more on StubHub than Clipper tickets this year) and another 20% just couldn’t think of anything better to do on a Tuesday night.
Warriors fans are not Clippers fans. Warriors fans turn into maniacs when they enter Oracle. Welcome to Oakland, I hope the team never leaves to San Francisco, it just wouldn’t be the same. The Clippers aren’t going to know what hit them come Thursday, and if things work out, I’ll be in the crowd, yelling my ass off in the standing room only section. The standing section sounds like a way better deal than the sitting sections. I’m going to be standing all game anyway, this gives me a chance to do it without the asshole behind me telling me to sit down.
I have a friend that told me he had learned so much about himself ever since he started living alone. Sounds miserable. I just spent the last week living by myself while my cousin was out of town, and let me tell you, the more I learned about myself, the less I wanted to learn about myself.
Did you know that I obsessively clean my bathroom even when there’s no one else around to see it? Or that I keep my toothbrush in the shower if I have it to myself?
Imagine if I took all those interesting tidbits and put it into a nice little bathroom reader you could peruse while taking a dump. Would you read it? No, you mean you don’t care that my towel takes twice as long to be returned to the bathroom after a shower when I live alone then when I have a roommate? You’re not fascinated by that information? Well guess what, neither am I.
People are overly obsessed with “learning more about myself” and “finding the real me”. There are some things about myself that I don’t care to know. The world is filled with so many exciting things to learn and experience (like reactive and functional programming) and the effect of solitude on my personal bathroom habits just doesn’t do it for me.
I’d rather sleep on couches, floors, and roofs like I do now than have an entire beautiful apartment to my own damn miserable self. Roommates are great, and when they’re also family it’s fucking awesome. So all you voluntary live-aloners enjoy the deep feeling of personal fulfilment you receive from understanding the sinewy ways in which your childhood traumas prevent you from vacuuming your floor. I’ll be busy watching the game with an actual human being.
