A lot has been going on since the last post.
Relationships have come and gone, as have a few job opportunities. I persevere through the tumult with the single realization: I must write. It has to happen.
There have been times when I've taken a break from the blog. Sometimes it's hard to write in other mediums when I'm not doing it for my profession. But living in the past in any way for any reason isn't good, let alone when it's related to the preservation of my future.
I make no promises, but I know how important this is to me. It's up to me invest in things I care about.
It's time.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Thursday, October 31, 2013
I Lost My Marbles
I lost my marbles today.
That's actually not true. A more correct statement would be that I ran out of marbles today. In January, after having decided this year would be the one in which I finally ended my battle with my weight, I wanted to add a visual motivator. So, I bought a bunch of marbles from Hobby Lobby, actually way more than my goal at the time. I wanted to lose 40 lbs. In 2007, I lost 60 and then gained 30 of it back over the course of time. Life got in the way of me getting down to my actual goal. I'd gotten close and then relaxed and it felt pretty far away at times, even though I've consistently gone to the gym since having finished with football.
Well, as the weight came off, more and more of me wanted to just keep going once I'd actually get to my stated goal. The plan was to tell people one number and secretly just keep on going until I ran out of marbles to put in my vase. Though I knew I was approaching that day, I didn't realize I was this close. It caught me off-guard upon realizing.
Weighed in after cardio this morning: 60 lbs down from the beginning of this year. My body isn't where I want it to be quite yet, but it feels great to know I've accomplished something that has hovered over me like the moon over the Earth. Whether day or night, even if I wasn't conscious of it, it was there. I've been big since I was about 8 years old. Now it's time to just be me.
The weight loss has been part of a much larger initiative, which I'll get into on another date. (Me posting more is also part of it.) Cheers to those who chase their dreams, live courageously and fight the enemy every chance they get.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
One Step at a Time
I'm usually pretty conscious about where I put my feet around my shower. God decided to bless me with some rather large feet and so ever since I've had size 15s, I've had to be careful about stepping in and out of the shower. One false step and I could be tumbling into or out of the tub basin.
That's why Sunday morning was so strange. I have never purposely kicked something as hard as I accidentally kicked the little metal tracking at the bottom of the shower door. I'm talking Claire Huxtable stubbed toe don't touch it! don't touch it! kind of pain. I thought for sure it was broken.
I limped around my room and got ready for work, which specializes in finding ways to make my feet hurt on normal days, let alone when I've driven my left foot into something so hard that I have to bite a towel to keep from screaming. The first two hours were just brutal. Shooting pain, difficulty maintaining my balance both standing and walking. My mind began to wander to how much it was going to cost me to miss work days while the walking boot was on my foot.
But then something strange happened. As the day wore on, I realized the pain had diminished. My efforts to change my gait worked so well that I no longer felt any pain. Sure, there were the occasional missteps, but for the most part, it was successful.
It seems I'm like that in general. I've made my share of missteps and stubbed my toe, but sooner or later, I figure out a way to eliminate the pain. We're all like that, really. Well, most of us anyway. Mind, body and soul, we are adaptable. We find a way.
The last few years have been littered with obstacles thrown in front of me and -- if I'm being honest with myself -- me creating my own impediments. But here I am, finding a way. I'm not sure what the next step is, but I can be sure that even if I stub my toe so bad that it more closely resembles an eggplant than a digit, I'll be just fine. I will find a way.
God bless the perseverant.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Ugh...
a rant for a second about the NBA lockout:
the owners are saying they'll go no higher than 50/50, but that's only for the Basketball-Related Income (BRI), which is the only money from which the players get paid. but the OWNERS still make money off the luxury boxes, and the additional rake from concessions and every other use for the arena, none of which the players get any share. so the players SHOULD get more than 50% because they're more than equally important to the success of the league.
it's not the owners who are exciting the fans, it's the owners who are willfully overpaying Sam Dalembert and Charlie Villanueva. it's not the players' fault the owners are idiots. they shouldn't have to pay for someone else's mistakes. it's ridiculous and befuddles me. if someone hires you and is willing to pay you a certain amount and the reserve from which they're paying you is only a fraction of the total amount of money they're making, wouldn't it make more sense to analyze the way the other fractions are being spent?
they should recognize the country's economic struggles and LOWER TICKET PRICES. then more butts are in the seats AND more money comes in. would you rather have one $10 or three $5's? it's simple, but the owners are too greedy to make a prudent decision that might, oh, SAVE their franchise because they're too afraid that people still won't show if the cost goes down. but the fans aren't going because they can't afford the freaking tickets, not because of disinterest, as evidenced by all the high TV ratings last season. those ratings, btw, were because of all the new PLAYER news, not because Mark Cuban was wearing a new extra medium tee or because Jim Dolan got some new Just For Men for his goatee.
i don't care if his beard is weird. i don't care how involved Cuban gets during the games. i watch to see the players and no one else. more than any other sport, they are the reasons people watch, the characters in the drama, exposed for all to see.
yes, the players are going to make a lot of money regardless. but, if you offered to give up about $160 million in negotiations, wouldn't you want the other side of the table to at least try to meet you some where in the middle of those concessions?
the owners are saying they'll go no higher than 50/50, but that's only for the Basketball-Related Income (BRI), which is the only money from which the players get paid. but the OWNERS still make money off the luxury boxes, and the additional rake from concessions and every other use for the arena, none of which the players get any share. so the players SHOULD get more than 50% because they're more than equally important to the success of the league.
it's not the owners who are exciting the fans, it's the owners who are willfully overpaying Sam Dalembert and Charlie Villanueva. it's not the players' fault the owners are idiots. they shouldn't have to pay for someone else's mistakes. it's ridiculous and befuddles me. if someone hires you and is willing to pay you a certain amount and the reserve from which they're paying you is only a fraction of the total amount of money they're making, wouldn't it make more sense to analyze the way the other fractions are being spent?
they should recognize the country's economic struggles and LOWER TICKET PRICES. then more butts are in the seats AND more money comes in. would you rather have one $10 or three $5's? it's simple, but the owners are too greedy to make a prudent decision that might, oh, SAVE their franchise because they're too afraid that people still won't show if the cost goes down. but the fans aren't going because they can't afford the freaking tickets, not because of disinterest, as evidenced by all the high TV ratings last season. those ratings, btw, were because of all the new PLAYER news, not because Mark Cuban was wearing a new extra medium tee or because Jim Dolan got some new Just For Men for his goatee.
i don't care if his beard is weird. i don't care how involved Cuban gets during the games. i watch to see the players and no one else. more than any other sport, they are the reasons people watch, the characters in the drama, exposed for all to see.
yes, the players are going to make a lot of money regardless. but, if you offered to give up about $160 million in negotiations, wouldn't you want the other side of the table to at least try to meet you some where in the middle of those concessions?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
It's Not About You
I'm a pretty resilient guy. It's not like I've had the worst life, but I haven't exactly been prancing through meadows either. It's hard sometimes -- especially when you're in the midst of the storm -- to make yourself available for others, but I know it's something that must happen and something which can help you find the freedom of healing. The last week and a half have been a classic example of that. I've been forced out of a place where I can digest my own happenings and have to make sure that others can do what needs to be done.
It would be nice to have some time for myself, but maybe this is where that's going to have to happen.
It would be nice to have some time for myself, but maybe this is where that's going to have to happen.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Almost
So close to a dream, I can almost touch it.
I've just got to reach out and grab it.
No slippery fingers this time.
I've just got to reach out and grab it.
No slippery fingers this time.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Foundation
Everything can change in a matter of days. Most things we think are constants can vanish in seconds. The only true constant is the One who makes these things happen.
He is everlasting.
No amount of Earthly fluctuation can alter that.
Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.
- Matthew 7: 24-25
He is the rock that keeps things steady in the midst of the storm.
He is everlasting.
No amount of Earthly fluctuation can alter that.
Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.
- Matthew 7: 24-25
He is the rock that keeps things steady in the midst of the storm.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Don't Call it a Comeback
For whatever reason, I'm not a guy who can learn from others' mistakes. I have to feel the sting before I can realize that something is a bad decision or that someone is bad for me. Sure, I've got common sense and have kept myself out of potentially harmful relationships or from making potentially catastrophic decision, but many times I've still needed to get burned to understand that putting my hand in the (figurative) fire isn't a good idea.
We're not talking huge things, mind you, but big enough for me to be affected.
I made some bad decisions affect my mindset far longer than they should have.
While reading a column by one of my favorite sportswriters Bill Simmons (can't believe I just admitted that, but I guess after reading a vast majority of his columns and his 700-page book, I suppose it's true), I came across something he said while talking about Tiger Woods.
He's been beaten down for his transgressions -- not just his actions, but the backlash that stemmed from it -- and it altered everything about his life. But at The Masters he finally started playing like the old Tiger, the one that captivated audiences and left courses smoldering from his inferno. Here's what Simmons said, when talking about what he's supposed to say to his son when talking about Tiger:
"I am supposed to think that he's a poor role model -- that he's an adulterer, that he's selfish, that he's a phony, that he behaves badly on golf courses, that he's someone I wouldn't want my son to emulate some day. That's horses---. I want my son to know that people screw up, that nobody is perfect, that you can learn from your foibles. I want my son to watch "The Natural" someday, hear Roy Hobbs say, "Some mistakes you never stop paying for," and know that it's not just words in a movie. I want my son to know that you haven't lived until you've fought back, that you haven't won until you've lost, that you can't understand what it's like to relish something until you've suffered, too. I want him to understand that it's the 21st century, that we sit around picking our heroes apart all day, that we expect them to be superhuman at all times, that we get pissed off when they aren't, that it's hypocritical if you really think about it."
A couple lines stopped me dead in my tracks while reading. Clearly, I'm no hero, and I've never done anything so bad as Tiger's poor marital decisions, so it's a little different. But maybe I needed to read that line about living. And losing. And suffering. And maybe I needed to give myself a break for not being perfect. The only thing a perfectionist really knows is the life-long struggle to be something that can never be attained. Maybe it's OK to realize that last part.
The last few months, I've really been trying to find me again. Sure, we all change, but it just felt like something was "off". Bit by bit I've been making strides toward finding that lost man, reconciling what happened to me and my past decisions that may have affected those things. I am not perfect, but I don't have to be. Simply a human, on the verge of reclaiming everything.
We're not talking huge things, mind you, but big enough for me to be affected.
I made some bad decisions affect my mindset far longer than they should have.
While reading a column by one of my favorite sportswriters Bill Simmons (can't believe I just admitted that, but I guess after reading a vast majority of his columns and his 700-page book, I suppose it's true), I came across something he said while talking about Tiger Woods.
He's been beaten down for his transgressions -- not just his actions, but the backlash that stemmed from it -- and it altered everything about his life. But at The Masters he finally started playing like the old Tiger, the one that captivated audiences and left courses smoldering from his inferno. Here's what Simmons said, when talking about what he's supposed to say to his son when talking about Tiger:
"I am supposed to think that he's a poor role model -- that he's an adulterer, that he's selfish, that he's a phony, that he behaves badly on golf courses, that he's someone I wouldn't want my son to emulate some day. That's horses---. I want my son to know that people screw up, that nobody is perfect, that you can learn from your foibles. I want my son to watch "The Natural" someday, hear Roy Hobbs say, "Some mistakes you never stop paying for," and know that it's not just words in a movie. I want my son to know that you haven't lived until you've fought back, that you haven't won until you've lost, that you can't understand what it's like to relish something until you've suffered, too. I want him to understand that it's the 21st century, that we sit around picking our heroes apart all day, that we expect them to be superhuman at all times, that we get pissed off when they aren't, that it's hypocritical if you really think about it."
A couple lines stopped me dead in my tracks while reading. Clearly, I'm no hero, and I've never done anything so bad as Tiger's poor marital decisions, so it's a little different. But maybe I needed to read that line about living. And losing. And suffering. And maybe I needed to give myself a break for not being perfect. The only thing a perfectionist really knows is the life-long struggle to be something that can never be attained. Maybe it's OK to realize that last part.
The last few months, I've really been trying to find me again. Sure, we all change, but it just felt like something was "off". Bit by bit I've been making strides toward finding that lost man, reconciling what happened to me and my past decisions that may have affected those things. I am not perfect, but I don't have to be. Simply a human, on the verge of reclaiming everything.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
In Remembrance
My mom has always felt I needed a father figure. My biological wasn't there, so she's gone out of her way to find men from whom I could learn and grown. I was never too interested in all of that, feeling that things needed to be organic. It always felt so forced.
The same was true when she began dating someone while I was away in college. I resisted him every time he tried to have some sort of impact on my life. I hadn't had a father for my first 18 years, it made no sense to me to have one now. He never stopped trying.
Now, 11 years after he became the kind of man to my mother that she truly deserved, he is gone. And now I realize that the man who never could remember that I don't like nuts in cookies is the same one who never stopped supporting me in any way he could.
For that, I am forever grateful.
Lyman Gilbert.
Three-time bronze star recipient and World War II veteran.
Great and kind man.
The same was true when she began dating someone while I was away in college. I resisted him every time he tried to have some sort of impact on my life. I hadn't had a father for my first 18 years, it made no sense to me to have one now. He never stopped trying.
Now, 11 years after he became the kind of man to my mother that she truly deserved, he is gone. And now I realize that the man who never could remember that I don't like nuts in cookies is the same one who never stopped supporting me in any way he could.
For that, I am forever grateful.
Lyman Gilbert.
Three-time bronze star recipient and World War II veteran.
Great and kind man.
Monday, February 14, 2011
jumping for joy
It's hard for me to put myself "out there" romantically.
Not that I've never done it or anything. It's just...it always seems like when I really try to extend myself and let a girl know how I feel about her, it always ends up with me picking up the pieces.
It's enough to dent a guy's confidence. Don't get me wrong; I know exactly what I'm worth as far as a potential spouse and all that. I'd like to think I'm a pretty good guy and will be a great husband if that situation ever presents itself. But, come on...
Ever since I was a young buck, I've tried to woo the lady. Whether it was love notes in 5th grade on Valentine's Day or poems in college, I've kept coming up dry.
And yet, I find myself, once again on the ledge. Ready to leap.
Happy Valentine's Day everybody.
Not that I've never done it or anything. It's just...it always seems like when I really try to extend myself and let a girl know how I feel about her, it always ends up with me picking up the pieces.
It's enough to dent a guy's confidence. Don't get me wrong; I know exactly what I'm worth as far as a potential spouse and all that. I'd like to think I'm a pretty good guy and will be a great husband if that situation ever presents itself. But, come on...
Ever since I was a young buck, I've tried to woo the lady. Whether it was love notes in 5th grade on Valentine's Day or poems in college, I've kept coming up dry.
And yet, I find myself, once again on the ledge. Ready to leap.
Happy Valentine's Day everybody.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Saboteur
(Soooo...that was a little longer "tomorrow" than I'd anticipated. Oops.)
My dating history is like one cautionary tale after another. That's not to say these ladies are bad people or whatever, but just aren't right with/for me. Most of them I've known -- on some level -- from the beginning.
In thinking about all this, I think I've really gotten down to the true root of it, but that's a little too personal for a public blog, so if you'd like to know you can ask. But I do believe I've nailed it down. I hope that it leads to meaningful growth with or without someone.
My dating history is like one cautionary tale after another. That's not to say these ladies are bad people or whatever, but just aren't right with/for me. Most of them I've known -- on some level -- from the beginning.
In thinking about all this, I think I've really gotten down to the true root of it, but that's a little too personal for a public blog, so if you'd like to know you can ask. But I do believe I've nailed it down. I hope that it leads to meaningful growth with or without someone.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Revelation
I've been rattling something around in my head for the last few days and it's too late to give the full hypothesis right now, so I'll just leave it by saying this...
I sabotage my own relationships.
More on this soon, most likely tomorrow.
I sabotage my own relationships.
More on this soon, most likely tomorrow.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Amazing
Ever since my best friend Ryan* met his now wife Holly, my other best friend Josh and I have had a code for saying that a girl was marriage material.
After Ryan and Holly had been dating for a little while, he mentioned to us how she was amaaaaaazing. He might as well have been exhaling while he said it because we could just tell he was gone. He may not have told her he loved her for a bit after that and he may not have even known he did at the time, but it was pretty clear his heart was wrapped up in all things Holly.
So now, whenever we hear that one of us is seeing someone, we always ask the question:
But is she amaaaaazing?
More often than not, the answer comes back with a no. Since neither of us are in a relationship with marriage potential, I guess it's more than "more often than not." But it helps give us a guideline to go by. We could see the look in Ryan's eye, so now we actually know what it looks like. Artwork is much easier with a template as a guide.
As we get older and our friends have their own families with wives and kids and mortgages, it becomes more glaringly obvious that we don't have those things. I always thought once one of us got married, there would be palpable pressure on the other two. While it has been a learning experience at times adjusting to someone who has a different set of priorities now, it's also been much easier than previously thought to simply include Holly into our activities. And we've been blessed by her presence. Ryan knew what he was talking about. She is amazing.
But if ever there are times when there is a little pressure, maybe from parents or other friends, it helps to have someone in the same boat. A couple nights ago, we were talking about the difference between the ladies we normally go after versus the ones who'd be best for us. I mentioned how we shouldn't go into any situation knowing something would have to change for it to work out. Compatibility is hard enough without adding elements to the obstacle course.
It's easier to find a rose in a rose garden than in the desert. And if you look in the right place, who knows...might even find and amazing one.
*Ryan and Holly happen to be in Lebanon right now, doing some great things for a wonderful organization. No matter where they go next, I'm sure they'll leave their marks.
After Ryan and Holly had been dating for a little while, he mentioned to us how she was amaaaaaazing. He might as well have been exhaling while he said it because we could just tell he was gone. He may not have told her he loved her for a bit after that and he may not have even known he did at the time, but it was pretty clear his heart was wrapped up in all things Holly.
So now, whenever we hear that one of us is seeing someone, we always ask the question:
But is she amaaaaazing?
More often than not, the answer comes back with a no. Since neither of us are in a relationship with marriage potential, I guess it's more than "more often than not." But it helps give us a guideline to go by. We could see the look in Ryan's eye, so now we actually know what it looks like. Artwork is much easier with a template as a guide.
As we get older and our friends have their own families with wives and kids and mortgages, it becomes more glaringly obvious that we don't have those things. I always thought once one of us got married, there would be palpable pressure on the other two. While it has been a learning experience at times adjusting to someone who has a different set of priorities now, it's also been much easier than previously thought to simply include Holly into our activities. And we've been blessed by her presence. Ryan knew what he was talking about. She is amazing.
But if ever there are times when there is a little pressure, maybe from parents or other friends, it helps to have someone in the same boat. A couple nights ago, we were talking about the difference between the ladies we normally go after versus the ones who'd be best for us. I mentioned how we shouldn't go into any situation knowing something would have to change for it to work out. Compatibility is hard enough without adding elements to the obstacle course.
It's easier to find a rose in a rose garden than in the desert. And if you look in the right place, who knows...might even find and amazing one.
*Ryan and Holly happen to be in Lebanon right now, doing some great things for a wonderful organization. No matter where they go next, I'm sure they'll leave their marks.
Friday, December 24, 2010
The Happiest Time of Year
Normally, I'm a huge sucker for Christmas. It's always been my favorite time of year and Christmas Eve has consistently been perched atop my rankings for favorite day of the year. What began as a youthful infatuation with getting presents has evolved into a love of the time and atmosphere.
It's not the gifts that you remember years later, it's the way the Christmas tree smelled as you brought it into the house. Or how you nervously looked out the side mirror, praying that you wouldn't see an arbor silhouette cascading down the side of the car, backlit by the bokeh headlights of the cars behind you.
When we think back, it's all about the senses we felt, not the stuff we got.
Unfortunately, this year is being dominated by some pretty overwhelming feelings. It was a pretty tough year for me personally and it seems to be going out with a bang, crippling my mother's boyfriend along the way.
Being happy around this time wasn't a task growing up; it just was. This year it's been a hike. Long, slow and painful.
It's not the gifts that you remember years later, it's the way the Christmas tree smelled as you brought it into the house. Or how you nervously looked out the side mirror, praying that you wouldn't see an arbor silhouette cascading down the side of the car, backlit by the bokeh headlights of the cars behind you.
When we think back, it's all about the senses we felt, not the stuff we got.
Unfortunately, this year is being dominated by some pretty overwhelming feelings. It was a pretty tough year for me personally and it seems to be going out with a bang, crippling my mother's boyfriend along the way.
Being happy around this time wasn't a task growing up; it just was. This year it's been a hike. Long, slow and painful.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Strong Cup of Coffee
Second-year San Francisco 49ers running back Glen Coffee retired yesterday.
Now, taken at face value, it's probably a little startling but not incredibly so. After all, the average career span of an NFL running back is 1.5 years, 3.5 years when all positions are factored into the equation. Anyone who's played football has had to retire at some point in their lives. I retired about five years ago.
Even Brett Favre will have to retire at some point.
What makes Coffee's retirement so shocking -- aside from the fact that he was the main back-up to an oft-injured player on a team projected to win somewhere around 10 games this season -- is his reasoning for walking away.
It wasn't what God wanted.
From all that I've read about him coming out of Alabama and now in the pros, Coffee is a deeply spiritual man who listens to his conscience. He listens to the Lord.
How many times have we all known in our hearts what He wanted for us, what He wanted us to do, and have chosen to instead do what we want. Sure, He puts things on our hearts, but there are times when our desires don't match His.
Here's a Q&A where he explains his rationale behind his decision.
I wouldn't be surprised if some fans and members of the media pan Coffee for being selfish and not thinking about his teammates, but until you walk with Him, you can't understand a decision like this.
Even if they do come, something tells me Coffee wouldn't care too much about that. He lives for the eternal; who cares what people say?
Now, taken at face value, it's probably a little startling but not incredibly so. After all, the average career span of an NFL running back is 1.5 years, 3.5 years when all positions are factored into the equation. Anyone who's played football has had to retire at some point in their lives. I retired about five years ago.
Even Brett Favre will have to retire at some point.
What makes Coffee's retirement so shocking -- aside from the fact that he was the main back-up to an oft-injured player on a team projected to win somewhere around 10 games this season -- is his reasoning for walking away.
It wasn't what God wanted.
From all that I've read about him coming out of Alabama and now in the pros, Coffee is a deeply spiritual man who listens to his conscience. He listens to the Lord.
How many times have we all known in our hearts what He wanted for us, what He wanted us to do, and have chosen to instead do what we want. Sure, He puts things on our hearts, but there are times when our desires don't match His.
Here's a Q&A where he explains his rationale behind his decision.
I wouldn't be surprised if some fans and members of the media pan Coffee for being selfish and not thinking about his teammates, but until you walk with Him, you can't understand a decision like this.
Even if they do come, something tells me Coffee wouldn't care too much about that. He lives for the eternal; who cares what people say?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sweet Mama Jamba
This week has been crazy at work... and it only gets worse from here, till about September 14th, anyway.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Dear Mr. Body Odor
Dear Mr. B.O.,
Let's call you Bo for short. I've been trying hard to avoid saying anything about this, so please excuse the length at which I'm going to go into this. Alas, sir, you've given me no choice.
I'm a big Seinfeld fan, but whenever I'd watch the episode where Jerry's valet has such bad body odor that it envelops Jerry's car to the point where he'd just give it away, I'd have a disconnect. I could never fully understand that scenario. Until now.
Let me just say that I love your work ethic. Whether I go in the morning or at night, it seems like you're there, about to put in some work. It may be that level of work, however, that has given you the strongest body odor I've ever smelled in my entire life. It is beyond b.o.
It overwhelms me.
Overpowers me.
It makes me want to stop working out, literally. I want to just stop what I'm doing and walk out of the building so that I can get some air. In those moments, I'll do anything to get some relief.
Honestly, I don't understand how others can be near you, Bo. I see you talking to them and I wonder whether or not their oflactory receptors are malfunctioning. I assure you that mine are not, sir. So please, PLEASE(!) put on some deodorant so that you can, you know, not smell like a Turkish sewer.
Thanks.
Your's Truly,
Sean
Let's call you Bo for short. I've been trying hard to avoid saying anything about this, so please excuse the length at which I'm going to go into this. Alas, sir, you've given me no choice.
I'm a big Seinfeld fan, but whenever I'd watch the episode where Jerry's valet has such bad body odor that it envelops Jerry's car to the point where he'd just give it away, I'd have a disconnect. I could never fully understand that scenario. Until now.
Let me just say that I love your work ethic. Whether I go in the morning or at night, it seems like you're there, about to put in some work. It may be that level of work, however, that has given you the strongest body odor I've ever smelled in my entire life. It is beyond b.o.
It overwhelms me.
Overpowers me.
It makes me want to stop working out, literally. I want to just stop what I'm doing and walk out of the building so that I can get some air. In those moments, I'll do anything to get some relief.
Honestly, I don't understand how others can be near you, Bo. I see you talking to them and I wonder whether or not their oflactory receptors are malfunctioning. I assure you that mine are not, sir. So please, PLEASE(!) put on some deodorant so that you can, you know, not smell like a Turkish sewer.
Thanks.
Your's Truly,
Sean
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Under Construction
Too often these days I stare at this screen, trying to think of something to say, and coming away with nothing but a cursor blinking away at me. Taunting me, like it knows I've got nothin'.
I've wanted to get back int o being better, if only to do something consistent away from going in to work and trying to keep from being overwhelmed by some guy's body odor while I sweat through my tattered, old shirts at the gym. (Seriously, same guy every time. People are always around him, chatting him up, too. I have no clue how they haven't been quarantined due to exposure yet.)
I know that for my own wellbeing, I need to -- Who else will make fun of Brett Favre? -- but for some reason, it's harder than just saying "Ok, let's' do it."
I'm not sure what to call it. Writer's block seems like too cliche an explanation, although it could very well be the truth. While rationalizing the fact that I don't have internet access at home would be handy, I know of ways to circumvent that. I just haven't done it too often.
I guess that's the preparation for saying this whole writing again thing seems to be more of a work in progress thing than I'd like. But it's getting better. I mean, right now. I'm writing, see? So that's a start. And then tomorrow, hope fully I'll write. Then Monday. And so on and so forth.
After all, I do have some subject matter. Like the horrible (horrible) drivers in Chicago. Or the aforementioned, supremely stinky gym rat. Or the old love life. Or the start of what could be my next "step." All good material. Maybe in the coming days, I'll get into a few of them. Until then, I guess just settle for the fact that I'm working on it...and am almost there.
Take that, cursor, you smug bastard.
I've wanted to get back int o being better, if only to do something consistent away from going in to work and trying to keep from being overwhelmed by some guy's body odor while I sweat through my tattered, old shirts at the gym. (Seriously, same guy every time. People are always around him, chatting him up, too. I have no clue how they haven't been quarantined due to exposure yet.)
I know that for my own wellbeing, I need to -- Who else will make fun of Brett Favre? -- but for some reason, it's harder than just saying "Ok, let's' do it."
I'm not sure what to call it. Writer's block seems like too cliche an explanation, although it could very well be the truth. While rationalizing the fact that I don't have internet access at home would be handy, I know of ways to circumvent that. I just haven't done it too often.
I guess that's the preparation for saying this whole writing again thing seems to be more of a work in progress thing than I'd like. But it's getting better. I mean, right now. I'm writing, see? So that's a start. And then tomorrow, hope fully I'll write. Then Monday. And so on and so forth.
After all, I do have some subject matter. Like the horrible (horrible) drivers in Chicago. Or the aforementioned, supremely stinky gym rat. Or the old love life. Or the start of what could be my next "step." All good material. Maybe in the coming days, I'll get into a few of them. Until then, I guess just settle for the fact that I'm working on it...and am almost there.
Take that, cursor, you smug bastard.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Kindness Counts
It's safe to say that I'd envisioned my life looking a bit different
at this moment when I was younger. To be sure, I've got some work to
do to get to that point.
at this moment when I was younger. To be sure, I've got some work to
do to get to that point.
Sometimes it gets to me, but I'm reminded by my family and friends
(seemingly always at the perfect time) that the story isn't ever
completely told halfway through the novel. The climax never comes at
the beginning of the story. Big-picture stuff, this IS early.
Sometimes I forget that. It does me good to hear that.
I'm thankful to those who help with kind words. I need more of that in
my life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)