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Nolan Nichols

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Profile. [22 Feb 2019|09:19pm]

Nolan Nichols will never attend a high school reunion.
He was a varsity athlete and Homecoming king, both by accident.


... )
portrayed-by || Michael C. Hall
AIM || ThrownAwayHours (OOC) or Convenient Nolan (IC)
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[12 May 2010|07:33am]
I worked a swing shift last night, which basically meant I didn't get home until around 2am or so once traffic gets factored in. I'm training Mindy as a night manager, which is actually not as much of a headache that I thought it was going to be. But work wasn't the interesting part of my night. I came home late, and I hadn't even been puttering around my kitchen for fifteen minutes when I swear I hear a knock on my door.

In Queens, if you open the door after a certain time of night, the only thing to expect to be greeted with is a knife to the ribs. Or, at least, that's what the neighbors have told me. I'm not sure I buy into it. But regardless, I was wary. Who in the hell was going to bother me at two o'clock in the morning? So, I ignored the knock. Or phantom-knock. Whichever it was. I was tired and ready for bed.

But when the knock came again, pounding louder and for longer this time, plus the addition of someone calling me by name, well... well, it's harded to ignore that. So I set down the glass of water and the sandwich I'd been eating and headed to the door. Through the peephole, I notice Judy standing there, looking panicked. As it turned out, Cliff had a stroke last night. Our phones are down -- the company's been working on them all week. I know this, even though I don't have a land line. The big orange trucks have been all along the street. But Judy knew I had a cell phone so I could call for help.

I ended up going to the hospital with the two of them. There was room for both of us to ride with him in the ambulance. He's still in the hospital for observation, and Judy wanted to stay there overnight. I offered to get her a ride home if she wanted it, but she just didn't want to leave him. I've got a shorter afternoon shift today to look forward to, and then I'll go check up on her at the hospital afterward. I don't think she has anyone but Cliff, you know?
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Bleeding Blue and Orange. [07 Nov 2009|10:37am]
[ mood | contemplative ]

Private; Readable by Orange. )

I am tired of hearing about how the Yankees are 27-time World Champions. I'm a Mets fan first, a National League fan second, and everything after that includes rooting for any team playing against the Yankees. Is it stupid that my own team pride might get in the way of a merchandising deal that would capitalize on the World Series win? The 'Stop is right around the corner from Citi Field, and I spent all season long making it into a mecca for the snack food, slushie, and gas needs of Mets fans. Anyone remember the orange and blue slushie specials we had? The foam fingers? The t-shirts and keychains and everything? Well, some joker from the Yankees' merchandising had the gall to come in, walk right past all the Mets goodies and offer me his card, with a limited time offer to sell World Series gear.

I told him I'd think about it, but only because it seemed rude from a managerial standpoint to tell him to fuck off in front of Mindy, Randall, and countless other customers in the store.

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[27 Aug 2009|12:06pm]
[ mood | curious ]
[ music | All My Life || Foo Fighters ]

Hey, don't let it go to waste | I love it, but I hate the taste | Weight keeping me down )

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[29 Mar 2009|10:38am]
[ mood | optimistic ]
[ music | Monkey Wrench || Foo Fighters ]

What have we done with innocence? It disappeared with time it never made much sense.
I won't pretend like my entry has anything to do with that previous line. Sometimes when you know you should update, but you end up just staring at the white box and the blinking cursor, you have to do something to make it stop, or to get the ball rolling. So that's why I typed out the first few lines from 'Monkey Wrench' by the Foo Fighters. It was enough to get the ball rolling on that song, so it's good enough for me. So there you have it. An act of desperation. It's just a random lyric from the song I was listening to. It feels like I'm permanently stuck in music from ten or twelve years ago. Foo Fighters. Everclear. They're in my CD player right now. On repeat. Forget anything that's on the radio today. I'm listening to CDs that I know all the words to on every track. Yes, this means singing in my jeep. Let that either intrigue or horrify you as it will.

Friday is the Mets home opener. It kicks off the launch of Citi Field and the grand opening of this new and revamped version of The Short Stop. That's the store I'm managing, for anyone who doesn't know. I've been throwing myself into my work for the last week or so, because my employees are idiots and my boss... well, he's definitely the brother of the last guy I worked for -- just as eccentric, elusive, and weird. But he's giving me a little bit of creative control, hence why the new store is called The Short Stop (Yes, like my old store in Seattle. I didn't say it was creative) to capitalize off of the business the ballpark and the shiny new baseball season will bring to the neighborhood. It beats the place's old name -- Leon's Corner Store. Leon is my boss. How narcissistic is that? Maybe it would make more sense if he actually came down to the store once in awhile. But he doesn't, and I'm sure as shit not calling it Nolan's Corner Store.

Anyway, this upcoming weekend is our first big weekend since the rennovation. The place looks totally different from before. It's under new management (me). I'm a bit excited for baseball and for life to start to slide back into place. I came out here for a change, and here I am craving something familiar. Jesus, that's a bit messed up.

I finally got my sister to talk to me on the phone, and I think that's part of it. She was kind of duped into it by my mother, but I got to talk to her on the phone for a solid fifteen minutes. She's still mad at me, but maybe she might start answering her cell phone if I try her on that.

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Alone in a Yellow House. [03 Mar 2009|11:30am]
[ mood | restless ]
[ music | Perfect Situation || Weezer ]

There's the pitch, slow and straight, all I have to do is swing and I'm a hero. But I'm a zero.
I'm sitting on my couch in my new house. It's the same old couch, just a completely different space. I'm typing this out now and I'll probably post it later when I can get somewhere that has internet, since mine isn't set up in the house yet. The family who lived in this house before me had cable, so that's been easier to get set up, but the internet -- that's what I really want, so of course that's what's taking the longest. I feel kind of isolated here -- new neighborhood, new house, new big giant city. It's doable, but it's going to take some getting used to.

I only know one person around here. I haven't been in town for a week yet, but I don't want to be constantly bothering Hannah. I've been texting Beckett a lot (and Jordan, though she still isn't replying to me), and I've just been glued to my stupid cell phone which annoys the crap out of me..

I need to throw myself into my work. The new store still has two weeks' worth of renovation work to be done, and I've got to oversee it. I don't trust these whack jobs that work at this store. Not yet, anyway. I feel like I need to dig into this job with all that I have, because right now... it's all that I have.

[Private to Hannah]
I'm actually missing people. This is a new experience for me.

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