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The Curious Case of Jon Hopper

Like all of us I have gotten older.  I'd like to think wiser, but that's up for debate.  In the past I used to get in trouble, get in fights, and on occasion got people to hate me.  I still do, but with much less frequency.  I love debates, but hate fighting.  Fighting is a tiring process.  Physical fights are usually less stressful than yelling matches, because at least there's an outlet for your anger.  When you have a verbal argument there is a level of stress that you achieve that isn't healthy, because in the end, both parties are most likely going to agree to disagree and that is just damn frustrating.

When I was younger i used to get into a lot of physical fights.  I mean a lot.  I noticed something very strange about it.  I'd almost get aroused when there was about to be a fight.  It was an adrenaline kick that I got very excited about.  Most of these fights lasted a few seconds, but the thrill was always exhilirating.  These days, as I've entered my forties, the last thing I ever want to do is fight.  I guess I'm growing up in that sense.  That may be the only way I am.

When I was 13, some friends of mine took me to a party where I stuck out like a sore thumb.  The group was about 16-25 years old, so I was the baby.  Oh and did I mention I was the only white person in the room?  This was an old school house party.  In a basement, electrical cords running out the window the the house upstairs and a dj was scratching and mixing records.  I was in the corner drinking gin.  This was not a wise choice.  From what I was told I was grinding on some girl who was about 20 and thought I was adorable. A few hours later my friends walked behind as I literally crawled four blocks to my house.  My parents made me drink a bloody mary the next day to teach me a lesson.  The lesson learned - everything is more fun with alcohol.

As I entered my teen and college years I would go through a process almost every night I went out.  Drink as much beer as I could and then puke.  Then go home, because the thought of another drink would make me puke again.  As I got a little older, I could drink a little more and I'd puke a little less.  So when did it happen that I started becoming a fucking professional drinker.  It's been years since the last time I got sick from drinking and I can pretty much drink anything, for incredibly long periods of time.  It's not a stretch for me to go ten to fourteen without really showing the effects.  In some cases this is good.  In others it's horrifying.  There's something depressing about knowing the one thing you're really good at is going to kill you one day.  Until that day, I'll keep living the dream.  The dream of being the world's oldest frat boy.  OK, not as inspirational as MLK's dream, but hey you gotta start somewhere.

I also have noticed that my sleeping habits have become unnaturally odd.  I can literally go three or four days in a row without getting more than four hours of sleep a night.  When I was younger I'd sleep twelve hours a night easy.  I can even drink, not sleep and function the next day.  Today probably isn't the best day to brag about this, since I went out til 3am, woke up at 7:45 and thought I texted my boss to say I would be late.  I awoke at 1:20pm to see I hadn't sent the text.  The rest of the day was spent in bed.  The funny thing is I never sleep, but I love to sleep. I love naps especially.  Maybe it's my age, but if I could sleep from 5-6:30pm every day, I don't think I'd need sleep at night.  A 90-minute power nap makes the whole world brighter.

I've also notived with age, my sarcasm has reached new heights.  Maybe it's because as a teen I wasn't clever enough to use it properly.  You know when sarcasm is really fun?  When the person it's aimed at isn't smart enough to realize.  It's hilarity at its finest.  I also think my sense of humor has evolved.  I've grown tired of the nut shots and petty insults.  I find that wheat really makes me laugh is situations.  Situations that when you relive them in your mind, you can't help but chuckle.  So many times something happens, that may not actually be that funny, but the perfect situation occurs and it's hilarious.  This is what I crave.

I've also noticed that what I find attractive in women has changed.  I used to go after one type and one type only.  Big chested brunettes were my flavor of choice.  Oddly enough, I find that the more I expand my likes, the less I seem to have success.  To be honest, I don't even really try anymore.  It's somewhat sad, but my "game" as the kids like to call it, is pretty much, well, minor-league.  I like having in-depth conversations with people and actually getting to know them first and usually by the time this happens they've moved on to someone who is more aggressive.  It's been the story of my life.   When I was younger and a bit more of an asshole, I used to actually get a little.  Now, the adult version or Hopper 4.0 as I'm going to refer to myself from now on, seems a little hesitant.  People always say, be yourself, but maybe that's the problem.  I sit and watch as people dumb themselves down, act like jerks and then walk home with the hottest girl in the place.  This has always amazed me and makes me really question women that say men are pigs. Pigs are actually very clean and faithful animals. If that's not enough of a reason to wanna be a pig, there is always bacon!  Because really ladies, if we tasted like bacon, well you know.

So what has happened.  I used to be an angry, beer slugging, sleepaholic, jerk who actually got girls.  Now I'm a calm, intelligent, vodka sipping,  insomniac funny guy who is actually nice to people and I've been single for over a year.  It begs the question.  What the hell have I done to myself? 

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