I just want to extend warm wishes and congratulation to my parental units, Mark and Lisa, on the celebration of their 32 years of marriage today.
Love 'em or hate 'em for this very reason, but if not for this crazy couple, I probably wouldn't be here right now (and y'all wouldn't be reading this here grossly entertaining sometimes-train wreck of a blog!).
I hope, one day, to be fortunate enough to have what they have: A passionate, romance-filled, everlasting, healthy marriage. They are truly blessed. And so am I for having parents as kind, generous, loving and all-wonderful as themselves. :O)
Congratulations, mom and dad!! I love and adore you both with all of my heart!!
Mazel Tov!!!!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Turn the Page
"There are people out there that love you. Write about them."
These words came from one of the sweetest, most generous individuals that I'm fortunate enough to call my friend. At the time, we were discussing a certain person and a certain situation, last week, of whom and which I will not dignify by going into detail about. As far as I'm concerned, the ugly and tumultuous events of last week are all part of one elephantine chapter that I've been ready and willing to turn the page on for quite some time now.
It's funny. A friend of mine once made the claim that I crave drama, I gravitate toward it and, ultimately, thrive on it. At one point in my life, that might have been true but these days, if anything, I'm starting to think that drama gravitates toward me!Honestly, I really do enjoy just walking into my apartment, turning left on my heel and free falling backwards onto my couch. It's not like I sit down at my kitchen table every night, rubbing my hands deviously, thinking to myself, gee, what can I cook up today that will surely make my blood pressure skyrocket???
So, from here on out, I'm going to do my damndest to turn my back on potential drama and walk--no, run!!--away from it, as far as my little (okay...not so little!) legs will carry me.
It's time for me to concentrate on the here, the now and, especially, the good. Lord knows, I'll take as much of that as I can get. And then some!! Truth is, I've been coming to realize, more and more lately, that there's plenty to write about when it comes to the positive stuff in my corner of the sky. I think it's high time that I start. Don't worry, though, boys and girls. There will always be stuff to bitch about.
C'est la vie.
These words came from one of the sweetest, most generous individuals that I'm fortunate enough to call my friend. At the time, we were discussing a certain person and a certain situation, last week, of whom and which I will not dignify by going into detail about. As far as I'm concerned, the ugly and tumultuous events of last week are all part of one elephantine chapter that I've been ready and willing to turn the page on for quite some time now.
It's funny. A friend of mine once made the claim that I crave drama, I gravitate toward it and, ultimately, thrive on it. At one point in my life, that might have been true but these days, if anything, I'm starting to think that drama gravitates toward me!Honestly, I really do enjoy just walking into my apartment, turning left on my heel and free falling backwards onto my couch. It's not like I sit down at my kitchen table every night, rubbing my hands deviously, thinking to myself, gee, what can I cook up today that will surely make my blood pressure skyrocket???
So, from here on out, I'm going to do my damndest to turn my back on potential drama and walk--no, run!!--away from it, as far as my little (okay...not so little!) legs will carry me.
It's time for me to concentrate on the here, the now and, especially, the good. Lord knows, I'll take as much of that as I can get. And then some!! Truth is, I've been coming to realize, more and more lately, that there's plenty to write about when it comes to the positive stuff in my corner of the sky. I think it's high time that I start. Don't worry, though, boys and girls. There will always be stuff to bitch about.
C'est la vie.
Game Over?
When is it time to call it quits in a friendship?
I can't think of too many times in the last few months where she said something that didn't hurt me or make me want to pull my hair out of frustration--and, as I'm realizing, I'm coming up a few short on those, lately. It's the same old story: There's that person in your life who repeatedly insists that they love you, they adore you and by just saying so, it somehow gives them the right to be a complete shit toward you whenever they deem it necessary.
It's like, what the hell do you bring to my life? I mean, really? What the fuck makes you worth all of the headaches and the clenched fists and good ol' aggravation I experience whenever I'm in your orbit? And, ya know, the sad part is that I always forgive you. I do. Like an idiot, a fucking clown, I come crawling back to you, every time, when it's so abundantly clear that it should be the other way around. Why do I do that?!?! Do I really put that little value on my own self-worth?
What's so frustrating about the whole situation is that we continually engage ourselves in this twisted, emotionally-exhausting, nerve-shredding game we like to refer to as our "friendship." I just don't think I can play it anymore. Not unless you make a few dramatic changes in terms of how you treat those that, for some reason, love you. In the meantime, though, I just don't think you're good for me. I'm tired of getting hurt. Fuck you for that.
And fuck me, too, for playing along for so long.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Dream Cast
If you had your choice, who would play you in a movie?
That's the burning question of the day, but it's always been a favorite question of mine that I like to ask. If someone was making a movie about your life, or a time in your life that you'd like there to be a movie about, who would you want to have cast in the role of, well, you?
Today, the topic came up when I was conversing (okay...e-mailing back and forth while at work) with one of my favorite partners in crime, Courtney. I asked her who would play her and she wasn't really sure. I suggested Zooey Deschanel from "Almost Famous" (she was the older sister) and "The Good Girl" (in it, she played that punky counter chick who vocalized her profane thoughts on the discount store intercom--by far, the most lively part of that movie).
It's actually something I've always wanted to do. I think I'd make a great casting director. With my gigantic mental dossier of famous--and not so famous--names and faces and my passion for film and characters on film, I'd be awesome!! I could be the next Billy Hopkins (Casting Director for "True Romance," "The Rock" and "Se7en") or Don Phillips ("Dazed and Confused"). That would absolutely, positively be a dream job of mine!!
I remember when I'd go out of town with my dad on business, I'd name off our favorite comic book characters or characters from our favorite novels and we'd discuss who would play them. We (okay...I...hey, after a while, even my dad needs a break from my non-stop motormouth) would do this for hours on end. Before he became the big star that he is today, I suggested to my parents that George Clooney would be a terrific Batman and they were like, "naaaaahhhh!!" [Blogger's Note: to this day, I'm convinced that had he not been handed that shitty-ass, Ev'rybody FREEEEZE!!, "Batman & Robin" script from Akiva Goldsman and not been directed by hack extraordinaire, Joel Schumacher, he would have, hands-down, kicked ass as the caped crusader!! Though, he still wouldn't have topped Michael Keaton, wherever he is...may his career rest in peace] Though, I think we can all agree that I may have hit a low point when I actually suggested that Freddie Prinze, Jr. would have made an "awesome" Spider Man!! And I wasn't even smoking pot at that time!! What the hell was my excuse for coming up with that one?!
Speaking of your friendly neighborhood spidey, my mom still says I remind her of Tobey Maguire and that he could play me in a movie. While she isn't the first person to mention that, I don't really see it. Then again, some people have told me that Danny DeVito, (douche bags!), that dwarf kid from "Simon Birch" (jackasses!!) and Corky from Life Goes On (um, jerks!!) could play me, so I'll take the Tobey comparisons where I can get 'em.
Moving on, when I was talking to Courtney, I listed off a few actors who could play me:
I know this probably sounds like a dickhead, arrogant thing to say but I really don't think any other actor could truly play me. At best, it might be a decent imitation (like Will Smith in "Ali!"), but let's face it--it wouldn't be me. For obvious and not so obvious reasons.
The most glaring obstacle facing them would be the high voice/low voice thing. Yes, it's true, I have both a deep, masculine voice and a high, girlie voice. Don't ask me why. Seriously. I have no idea. It's not even a Truman Capote voice. It's like an honest-to-G-d chick voice. It happens most often when I get excited or nervous. It also happens if I stop thinking about it. It's kind of annoying, at times, but I've really gotten use to it and it does have its advantages. Maybe I'll write about it another time (yyyyyyeah, right!) in greater detail.
Another hurdle would be that I have very particular mannerisms that really can't be mimicked. Some might say I'm a bit effeminate (okay...a lot of people might say that), but not so much that people would think that I'm gay or anything like that (which would be an incorrect assumption if they did--not that there's anything wrong with it. Then again, I do have that hetero male crush on Hugh Jackman, so who knows, right?). It's very much a happy medium between feminine and masculine (bring on the he-she comment, because I know they're coming!!). If any other actor tried to do it, I think they'd either play all of my quirks for laughs or exaggerate them to the point where they'd be a distraction throughout the whole movie.
No, I would definitely play me in a movie. Hey, I'm way hotter than Howard Stern (oh, no I didn't!!!) and if he's allowed to play himself, why the hell can't I, right?!
Besides, when it comes to H-Def, accept no substitutes.
That's the burning question of the day, but it's always been a favorite question of mine that I like to ask. If someone was making a movie about your life, or a time in your life that you'd like there to be a movie about, who would you want to have cast in the role of, well, you?
Today, the topic came up when I was conversing (okay...e-mailing back and forth while at work) with one of my favorite partners in crime, Courtney. I asked her who would play her and she wasn't really sure. I suggested Zooey Deschanel from "Almost Famous" (she was the older sister) and "The Good Girl" (in it, she played that punky counter chick who vocalized her profane thoughts on the discount store intercom--by far, the most lively part of that movie).
It's actually something I've always wanted to do. I think I'd make a great casting director. With my gigantic mental dossier of famous--and not so famous--names and faces and my passion for film and characters on film, I'd be awesome!! I could be the next Billy Hopkins (Casting Director for "True Romance," "The Rock" and "Se7en") or Don Phillips ("Dazed and Confused"). That would absolutely, positively be a dream job of mine!!
I remember when I'd go out of town with my dad on business, I'd name off our favorite comic book characters or characters from our favorite novels and we'd discuss who would play them. We (okay...I...hey, after a while, even my dad needs a break from my non-stop motormouth) would do this for hours on end. Before he became the big star that he is today, I suggested to my parents that George Clooney would be a terrific Batman and they were like, "naaaaahhhh!!" [Blogger's Note: to this day, I'm convinced that had he not been handed that shitty-ass, Ev'rybody FREEEEZE!!, "Batman & Robin" script from Akiva Goldsman and not been directed by hack extraordinaire, Joel Schumacher, he would have, hands-down, kicked ass as the caped crusader!! Though, he still wouldn't have topped Michael Keaton, wherever he is...may his career rest in peace] Though, I think we can all agree that I may have hit a low point when I actually suggested that Freddie Prinze, Jr. would have made an "awesome" Spider Man!! And I wasn't even smoking pot at that time!! What the hell was my excuse for coming up with that one?!
Speaking of your friendly neighborhood spidey, my mom still says I remind her of Tobey Maguire and that he could play me in a movie. While she isn't the first person to mention that, I don't really see it. Then again, some people have told me that Danny DeVito, (douche bags!), that dwarf kid from "Simon Birch" (jackasses!!) and Corky from Life Goes On (um, jerks!!) could play me, so I'll take the Tobey comparisons where I can get 'em.
Moving on, when I was talking to Courtney, I listed off a few actors who could play me:
- Seth Rogan ("Knocked Up")
- Samm Levin (Freaks & Geeks)
- Adam Brody (The OC)
- Jason Biggs ("American Pie")
I know this probably sounds like a dickhead, arrogant thing to say but I really don't think any other actor could truly play me. At best, it might be a decent imitation (like Will Smith in "Ali!"), but let's face it--it wouldn't be me. For obvious and not so obvious reasons.
The most glaring obstacle facing them would be the high voice/low voice thing. Yes, it's true, I have both a deep, masculine voice and a high, girlie voice. Don't ask me why. Seriously. I have no idea. It's not even a Truman Capote voice. It's like an honest-to-G-d chick voice. It happens most often when I get excited or nervous. It also happens if I stop thinking about it. It's kind of annoying, at times, but I've really gotten use to it and it does have its advantages. Maybe I'll write about it another time (yyyyyyeah, right!) in greater detail.
Another hurdle would be that I have very particular mannerisms that really can't be mimicked. Some might say I'm a bit effeminate (okay...a lot of people might say that), but not so much that people would think that I'm gay or anything like that (which would be an incorrect assumption if they did--not that there's anything wrong with it. Then again, I do have that hetero male crush on Hugh Jackman, so who knows, right?). It's very much a happy medium between feminine and masculine (bring on the he-she comment, because I know they're coming!!). If any other actor tried to do it, I think they'd either play all of my quirks for laughs or exaggerate them to the point where they'd be a distraction throughout the whole movie.
No, I would definitely play me in a movie. Hey, I'm way hotter than Howard Stern (oh, no I didn't!!!) and if he's allowed to play himself, why the hell can't I, right?!
Besides, when it comes to H-Def, accept no substitutes.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Special
"If I were retarded, you'd tell me, right?"
That's the question I asked my dad while we were at the gym, a few days ago. This was followed by a very loud snort, which was then followed by a hearty guffaw.
His answer: "We all have our deficiencies, Hal."
Not quite the concrete answer I was looking for, but true enough. The thing is, there are times when I really wonder if I'm retarded. No, not in the derogatory why are you so retarded?! type of way. No, I literally mean mentally-challenged, "special."
Which leads me to ask a question: Do mentally retarded people know they're mentally retarded?
There are so many things that I don't know about that a lot of other people with less education know about. And this is no insult to them, but sometimes I wonder why my brain just didn't absorb all of the stuff that theirs absorbed. Am I slow? What's the deal?!
I mean, let's take computers for example. I am constantly asking Derek if the simplest thing like, oh, say, putting a disc or something into my new laptop will break it. He just stares at me long and hard and says, "of course not!" like I'm some mongoloid.
Another prime example of me possibly being a short bus candidate occurred just today. I was bored and drawing on my hand (that's a hint all by itself!!!) when my pen (one of those fancy fountain pens!!!!) dribbled some ink onto this really bad cut I got from when I was chopping tomatoes the other day. I looked over to Christina and I asked her, holding my finger out, "AM I GONNA GET INK POISONING?!?!"
Her response: "Yes, yes you will." Turd.
The truth of the matter is that most of my deficiencies or lack of knowledge about everyday things have less to do with being stupid or retarded than it does about me being paranoid, afraid. It's true! I'm terribly afraid of things breaking or getting sick or even just good ol' death!!
I think that will be another goal for me, for the second half of '07. I need to learn to stop sweating the small stuff or, at the very least, accept that there are some things that are beyond my control (there's that Plan thing again, eh?). I also need to start researching things that get me so high strung. The more I learn about things like computers and various illnesses or whatever, the less "deficiencies" I'll have, the less likely I might be to freak out about them and feel retarded later on.
And wouldn't that be special.
That's the question I asked my dad while we were at the gym, a few days ago. This was followed by a very loud snort, which was then followed by a hearty guffaw.
His answer: "We all have our deficiencies, Hal."
Not quite the concrete answer I was looking for, but true enough. The thing is, there are times when I really wonder if I'm retarded. No, not in the derogatory why are you so retarded?! type of way. No, I literally mean mentally-challenged, "special."
Which leads me to ask a question: Do mentally retarded people know they're mentally retarded?
There are so many things that I don't know about that a lot of other people with less education know about. And this is no insult to them, but sometimes I wonder why my brain just didn't absorb all of the stuff that theirs absorbed. Am I slow? What's the deal?!
I mean, let's take computers for example. I am constantly asking Derek if the simplest thing like, oh, say, putting a disc or something into my new laptop will break it. He just stares at me long and hard and says, "of course not!" like I'm some mongoloid.
Another prime example of me possibly being a short bus candidate occurred just today. I was bored and drawing on my hand (that's a hint all by itself!!!) when my pen (one of those fancy fountain pens!!!!) dribbled some ink onto this really bad cut I got from when I was chopping tomatoes the other day. I looked over to Christina and I asked her, holding my finger out, "AM I GONNA GET INK POISONING?!?!"
Her response: "Yes, yes you will." Turd.
The truth of the matter is that most of my deficiencies or lack of knowledge about everyday things have less to do with being stupid or retarded than it does about me being paranoid, afraid. It's true! I'm terribly afraid of things breaking or getting sick or even just good ol' death!!
I think that will be another goal for me, for the second half of '07. I need to learn to stop sweating the small stuff or, at the very least, accept that there are some things that are beyond my control (there's that Plan thing again, eh?). I also need to start researching things that get me so high strung. The more I learn about things like computers and various illnesses or whatever, the less "deficiencies" I'll have, the less likely I might be to freak out about them and feel retarded later on.
And wouldn't that be special.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Pins & Needles
It's like that impossible itch that you just can't scratch.
I find myself constantly wondering what's missing in my life. It's like, I can feel an absence of some sort and yet, I'm not sure what it is and what it will take to fill that void. I mean, I'm pretty happy with myself, at this point in my life. And yet, I'm not sure I'm happy with where I am in life.
Truth be told, I have no idea what to do with myself, sometimes ('course, I'm sure there are a few of you out there that could tell me without hesitation)!! I'm on schpilkes (yiddish for "pins and needles"), dammit!!
In elementary school, I recall staring out the windows, into the distance, wondering when I would get to explore what was out there. I didn't really have a particular destination. I just always would imagine what it would be like to just drive and drive and drive into that great beyond, that line in the distance where the sky touches the earth (yes, that was me trying to use word pictures. Sorry. I'll keep it to a minimum, but you caught my drift, didn't you?)
For a while now, I've felt as if life were passing me by and the thing of it is, I don't know how to stop it. There are moments when I wish I could just freeze time (like Hiro Nakamura on "Heroes," only without that icky constipated look on my face), just so I could have a moment to breathe and figure out what it is I'm supposed to be doing and I could take my attention away from all of the more successful people passing me by.
But it doesn't work like that. You have to act and you have to act fast, otherwise, you're screwed and stranded in a place that's worst than the proverbial "square one. That is, you're stuck, stranded in the middle of your own life with nowhere to go.
And that scares the hell out of me!!
I want to live a fulfilling life. I want to do well, be successful. Over the course of the last year or so, I've given it a lot of thought about what I need to do, what changes need to be made, in order to do just that.
I've been wanting to move for some time now. Where to? Well, the first choice would still be Minneapolis as one of my best friends, Matteo, lives there. The second location would be the Scottsdale/Phoenix area in AZ, since my best friend growing up, David, lives there. The fact that he still lives with his parents and needs to get the hell out of dodge, I'm sure, has nothing to do with his constant nagging. Nothing to do with it at all! Option number three is the City of Brotherly Love itself, Philly. I have some friends living there that I met, and have been talking to, online for a few years now.
The thing is, I keep thinking that if I move somewhere else, all of my problems will suddenly evaporate by crossing an imaginary state line. And, to a degree, I think it would help me learn how to really live my life the way I want to live it. That is, on my own terms and by my rules and standards. But would moving really make me happy?
What will make me happy?
I mean, yeah, there are things in my life that do make me happy: Cooking, movies, hanging out with my best friends..."Buffy" reruns. All that stuff.
And yet, if I were to die today, would I be able to say, man, oh man!! I lived a happy life?? And I gotta be honest, at this moment, I don't know if I could answer that with a wholehearted "yes." I think that, for as many great things that have happened in my life, a lot of shitty things have happened as well.
Wouldn't it be awesome if life were like a movie in the sense that, once you finally hit that highest high point in your life or discovered that glimmer of hope you're looking for, everything would just fade to black right on that high note and the credits could roll with an upbeat pop song (like "Come Sail Away" by Styx!!). I've often wondered, up to this point in my life, what that moment would be for me. What, so far, has been the defining moment of my life?
What's been your high point, readers? The defining moment in your life?
And yet, here I am: No fading to black, no rolling credits. I'm 26 years old and I've done nothing, as of yet, to significantly contribute to society and I still haven't traveled into the horizon like I imagined doing as a child.
But just as I have been of late, I remain positive, optimistic.
We're into round two of 2007, my lease goes up at the end of September and my plan, as I mentioned, is to move. Now, beyond that point, do I have a clear goal, objective or picture of what the future holds in the near (and distant) future?
Nah. But I need to do something.
It's an impossible itch, trying to figure out what you want, what you need.
Sometimes, though, you have to at least make the effort to scratch at it by reaching further than you've ever reached before...
***
I find myself constantly wondering what's missing in my life. It's like, I can feel an absence of some sort and yet, I'm not sure what it is and what it will take to fill that void. I mean, I'm pretty happy with myself, at this point in my life. And yet, I'm not sure I'm happy with where I am in life.
Truth be told, I have no idea what to do with myself, sometimes ('course, I'm sure there are a few of you out there that could tell me without hesitation)!! I'm on schpilkes (yiddish for "pins and needles"), dammit!!
In elementary school, I recall staring out the windows, into the distance, wondering when I would get to explore what was out there. I didn't really have a particular destination. I just always would imagine what it would be like to just drive and drive and drive into that great beyond, that line in the distance where the sky touches the earth (yes, that was me trying to use word pictures. Sorry. I'll keep it to a minimum, but you caught my drift, didn't you?)
For a while now, I've felt as if life were passing me by and the thing of it is, I don't know how to stop it. There are moments when I wish I could just freeze time (like Hiro Nakamura on "Heroes," only without that icky constipated look on my face), just so I could have a moment to breathe and figure out what it is I'm supposed to be doing and I could take my attention away from all of the more successful people passing me by.
But it doesn't work like that. You have to act and you have to act fast, otherwise, you're screwed and stranded in a place that's worst than the proverbial "square one. That is, you're stuck, stranded in the middle of your own life with nowhere to go.
And that scares the hell out of me!!
I want to live a fulfilling life. I want to do well, be successful. Over the course of the last year or so, I've given it a lot of thought about what I need to do, what changes need to be made, in order to do just that.
I've been wanting to move for some time now. Where to? Well, the first choice would still be Minneapolis as one of my best friends, Matteo, lives there. The second location would be the Scottsdale/Phoenix area in AZ, since my best friend growing up, David, lives there. The fact that he still lives with his parents and needs to get the hell out of dodge, I'm sure, has nothing to do with his constant nagging. Nothing to do with it at all! Option number three is the City of Brotherly Love itself, Philly. I have some friends living there that I met, and have been talking to, online for a few years now.
The thing is, I keep thinking that if I move somewhere else, all of my problems will suddenly evaporate by crossing an imaginary state line. And, to a degree, I think it would help me learn how to really live my life the way I want to live it. That is, on my own terms and by my rules and standards. But would moving really make me happy?
What will make me happy?
I mean, yeah, there are things in my life that do make me happy: Cooking, movies, hanging out with my best friends..."Buffy" reruns. All that stuff.
And yet, if I were to die today, would I be able to say, man, oh man!! I lived a happy life?? And I gotta be honest, at this moment, I don't know if I could answer that with a wholehearted "yes." I think that, for as many great things that have happened in my life, a lot of shitty things have happened as well.
Wouldn't it be awesome if life were like a movie in the sense that, once you finally hit that highest high point in your life or discovered that glimmer of hope you're looking for, everything would just fade to black right on that high note and the credits could roll with an upbeat pop song (like "Come Sail Away" by Styx!!). I've often wondered, up to this point in my life, what that moment would be for me. What, so far, has been the defining moment of my life?
What's been your high point, readers? The defining moment in your life?
And yet, here I am: No fading to black, no rolling credits. I'm 26 years old and I've done nothing, as of yet, to significantly contribute to society and I still haven't traveled into the horizon like I imagined doing as a child.
But just as I have been of late, I remain positive, optimistic.
We're into round two of 2007, my lease goes up at the end of September and my plan, as I mentioned, is to move. Now, beyond that point, do I have a clear goal, objective or picture of what the future holds in the near (and distant) future?
Nah. But I need to do something.
It's an impossible itch, trying to figure out what you want, what you need.
Sometimes, though, you have to at least make the effort to scratch at it by reaching further than you've ever reached before...
***
And now, for a bit of shameless self-congratulations...
They said it couldn't be done (well, no one ever actually said that. Not to my face anyway. Fuckers)!!! We've reached the 50-entry mark!! YAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!! Okay. I'm, um, done now. Thank you!!
They said it couldn't be done (well, no one ever actually said that. Not to my face anyway. Fuckers)!!! We've reached the 50-entry mark!! YAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!! Okay. I'm, um, done now. Thank you!!
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
The Case of the Smiling Asshole
I'm starting to realize that people think I'm an asshole. And it makes me smile.
Now, I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression here. It's not my intention to make people believe that I'm some jackass because, really, I don't think I am. I simply smile because all of my life, I've worked so hard trying to make people like me.
As I've mentioned all along, I'm a people pleaser. I like to make people smile, laugh and nod their head at me in jubilant adoration.
And trust me...it's a lot of work to keep that up.
As I've gotten older, however, I've started getting used to the notion that some people, no matter what I do, are just not going to like me. It's taken me a long time to get that, to come to terms with that.
What can I say? Things I do, things I say just rub some people the wrong way. And I'll admit, I do suffer from chronic Foot in Mouth Syndrome.
Case in point: I nearly got lynched when I told this one group of people (okay, a few of my more easily incensed friends and co-workers) that I hate walk-a-thons. What is the point of a walk-a-thon??? Why do we have to walk to raise money? I mean, don't get me wrong, I think fund raisers and charities are extremely important. I absolutely admire people who cut their hair for cancer patients. I think Jerry Lewis is a saint (albeit a Jewish saint) for keeping his muscular dystrophy telethon going for so long (and it bugs me when people shit on it by making light of such a good cause). Hell, I believe that anyone who participates in and donates any of their hard-earned cash to any sort of charity is downright heroic and commands a great deal of my respect.
But wouldn't it be quicker and far more efficient if we just gave the scientists, or whomever is is charge of looking for the cure, our money, rather than just...walking?! I mean, here's my money! You can have it! I want to help!! I just don't want to walk!! What's the problem?!
I don't get it.
Anyway, people just don't get this particular viewpoint. In fact, for reasons I'm still not quite sure of, most people think I'm this self-centered dickhead for taking that stance and their sparkling opinion will never change.
I have this friend. His name is Joe. He is, quite possibly, the most rude, crass prick I've ever known. One out of every two people I introduce him to thinks he's, well, Satan's spawn. But ya know what? I think he's awesome. Why? Because he knows he's all of the above and he just doesn't care. He is who he is. He says what he wants to say and you can love him or you can hate him, but you will not control him or censor him. He's true to himself and he could give two shits if you're offended by what he says or if you like him.
I respect that. I admire that. I don't always agree with what he says and I think he can be a total--what was the word?--ass hat, but there's something invigorating about standing next to someone who doesn't live, die or lose sleep based on what other people think of him. It does my soul good knowing there are people out there like that. Let me just say this, though: I will never, ever be that person. I care too much. I do. I'll admit it.
It's funny. I remember how I use to tell people that my biggest goal was to get through each day without getting hurt or hurting someone else. Upon reflection, that's the biggest crock o' shit I've probably ever cooked up. I mean, seriously...who says that?!?! Besides, as a goal, it pretty unrealistic, not to mention ridiculous.
It's a huge world and, in it, we--all five billion of us and counting--are all connected at various degrees (just ask Kevin Bacon). At the same time, though, each individual is different. So, the way I see it, with so many different personalities, there is no possible way one can walk through a 24-hour block without hurting anyone or getting hurt in some way, shape or form. It's impossible.
And yes, it's pointless to constantly sweat over whether people like you or not.
Try and try as I might to be a funny, charming, altogether good person, there are people out there that will always hate my guts and, yes, even wish me bodily harm. And that's okay. It's not something I take pride in or that I'm ecstatic about, but at the same time, I'm learning that the only thing that I can do is work on being the best Hal possible without losing whatever it is that makes me, well, me.
That, and being willing to accept in equal measures whatever hatred is shed upon me as well as good will and love...both with open arms.
And, yes, a smile.
Now, I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression here. It's not my intention to make people believe that I'm some jackass because, really, I don't think I am. I simply smile because all of my life, I've worked so hard trying to make people like me.
As I've mentioned all along, I'm a people pleaser. I like to make people smile, laugh and nod their head at me in jubilant adoration.
And trust me...it's a lot of work to keep that up.
As I've gotten older, however, I've started getting used to the notion that some people, no matter what I do, are just not going to like me. It's taken me a long time to get that, to come to terms with that.
What can I say? Things I do, things I say just rub some people the wrong way. And I'll admit, I do suffer from chronic Foot in Mouth Syndrome.
Case in point: I nearly got lynched when I told this one group of people (okay, a few of my more easily incensed friends and co-workers) that I hate walk-a-thons. What is the point of a walk-a-thon??? Why do we have to walk to raise money? I mean, don't get me wrong, I think fund raisers and charities are extremely important. I absolutely admire people who cut their hair for cancer patients. I think Jerry Lewis is a saint (albeit a Jewish saint) for keeping his muscular dystrophy telethon going for so long (and it bugs me when people shit on it by making light of such a good cause). Hell, I believe that anyone who participates in and donates any of their hard-earned cash to any sort of charity is downright heroic and commands a great deal of my respect.
But wouldn't it be quicker and far more efficient if we just gave the scientists, or whomever is is charge of looking for the cure, our money, rather than just...walking?! I mean, here's my money! You can have it! I want to help!! I just don't want to walk!! What's the problem?!
I don't get it.
Anyway, people just don't get this particular viewpoint. In fact, for reasons I'm still not quite sure of, most people think I'm this self-centered dickhead for taking that stance and their sparkling opinion will never change.
I have this friend. His name is Joe. He is, quite possibly, the most rude, crass prick I've ever known. One out of every two people I introduce him to thinks he's, well, Satan's spawn. But ya know what? I think he's awesome. Why? Because he knows he's all of the above and he just doesn't care. He is who he is. He says what he wants to say and you can love him or you can hate him, but you will not control him or censor him. He's true to himself and he could give two shits if you're offended by what he says or if you like him.
I respect that. I admire that. I don't always agree with what he says and I think he can be a total--what was the word?--ass hat, but there's something invigorating about standing next to someone who doesn't live, die or lose sleep based on what other people think of him. It does my soul good knowing there are people out there like that. Let me just say this, though: I will never, ever be that person. I care too much. I do. I'll admit it.
It's funny. I remember how I use to tell people that my biggest goal was to get through each day without getting hurt or hurting someone else. Upon reflection, that's the biggest crock o' shit I've probably ever cooked up. I mean, seriously...who says that?!?! Besides, as a goal, it pretty unrealistic, not to mention ridiculous.
It's a huge world and, in it, we--all five billion of us and counting--are all connected at various degrees (just ask Kevin Bacon). At the same time, though, each individual is different. So, the way I see it, with so many different personalities, there is no possible way one can walk through a 24-hour block without hurting anyone or getting hurt in some way, shape or form. It's impossible.
And yes, it's pointless to constantly sweat over whether people like you or not.
Try and try as I might to be a funny, charming, altogether good person, there are people out there that will always hate my guts and, yes, even wish me bodily harm. And that's okay. It's not something I take pride in or that I'm ecstatic about, but at the same time, I'm learning that the only thing that I can do is work on being the best Hal possible without losing whatever it is that makes me, well, me.
That, and being willing to accept in equal measures whatever hatred is shed upon me as well as good will and love...both with open arms.
And, yes, a smile.
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