Everything in it's Wrong Place

How do I say this properly? Everything is amiss.

I know everything happens for a reason and life is what you make of it, but something is wrong. I made a mistake and it made the record that is my life skip.

How do I get this back on track? Will I ever? What am I doing? Take a deep breath. This is gonna be a bumpy ride of a blog.

It all started when I was 16 years old. I flirted with my first coworker. Ever since then it's been a slow decline to where I am today. Every job. Every opportunity has been littered with these sort of situations. I give out too much. I never know when to say when. And it slit my throat this time. Or bit me in the ass, which ever you prefer. I prefer the more drastic of situations. The extreme. Why? I guess it's all I really know. Push it to the limit. And I got burned by that. I gave out too much information (TMF for the kids). How do I get back? How do I skoot back and take a time out? Where do people learn that? therapy? I think everyone needs therapy. Everyone. But are there answers there? Or just more questions? That's what I found so annoying about therapy: there is no give and take. There is just give. And to open up right now is scary. I fell like everything I know is wrong and I need to unlearn all that I have learned. It's not unlike The Karate Kid.

What am I going to miraculously change my stripes mid life? I'm reminded back when I was younger: waking up in the morning right before the sun rose and jogging by the water. I'd see the sun rising over the water. The World Trade Center in the distance and me jogging along to whatever mix CD I put into my CD player (most likely the Days of Thunder soundtrack, don't judge me! I like my David Coverdale!). The joggers passing me by at first wouldn't even look at me as I passed by, but after a while they start to wave and smile. As if I'm part of their secret world. But, like everything in my life, it was not to be. I stopped getting up at 5:25am to go jogging and those people I would pass by every morning knew I wouldn't last. In the beginning they wouldn't even acknowledge me, but after a while when they were waving it wasn't, "Hello" but "Goodbye." There was something in their eyes. They knew I wouldn't last. I didn't. They knew it before I did. They have seen it before: Another young punk trying to exercise. Maybe for the Marathon, maybe because he's confused. He is just a passerby, not a participant in what I'm a part of.

Am I capable of changing? Do old habits die hard? I've been secretly stepping back in social situations. Taking a back seat, listening to to everything I would say to a group of people or a woman at wor and really thinking about what I was about to say. Examine it like I was a teacher. Red markings all over the place. The outcome? Isn't far off from the me everyone knows. Just better. More responsible. I just need to do that every second of my life.

What could possibly go wrong?

Diving Bell and the Butterfly

What if you couldn't move a bone in your body. Nothing. Just your eyelid. Would you be able to handle that? My imagination is one thing, but what about sex and kissing and flirting and cooking and eating and ust everything? Would you be able to do that?

Would you really have a choice?

How does one die on purpose like that? I think my heart would break. It just wouldn't be able to handle it. But, what if deep down you believed you could beat it. You could be the one who moved your head or your hand. It's that belief that I can do anything that makes me... well I'm not sure what that makes me. I just believe I can do anything. Learn Final Cut Pro? Fuck yeah! Learn how to drive stick? Just get me the Porshe and I'll do it. Weazle out of a jam with the cops? Hell yes!

I recently inured my leg and needed a cane to walk. It was awful and painful and I hated it. But I got better. Fast. Really fast. Why? Maybe the drugs, maybe my asweomse therapist, or maybe I can just do anything I put my mind to.

Tell me: When am I supposed to stop thinking I'm invincible?

A Blog a Day...

I'm a very clumsy individual. I don't often remember the basic tasks for a normal day. It's as if I really would lose my head if it wasn't attached. I need to write more. To write more I need to remember to write more. It's not that I just automatically remember to write something every single day without fail. How do people do that? I mean I write down things all the time for work, but for pleasure? Never. That's not true. I usually do remember to write, but it's at THE most inopportune times. Like when I'm on the subway I think often, "I should write about movies that are better in the theatre than at home. I really believe there is a difference."

Rubbish, I know. Pure shit. Who doesn't have that thought? But, that is what goes through my mind. It pisses me off. Why can I remember during idle minutes on the subway yet forget when I'm home staring at my Mac? I know I'm addicted to the internet, but limiting my writing is where I draw the line.

I'm throwing the gauntlet down. That is how that expression goes, right?

I would like to write a blog a day until...well let's say a month. I do hope it's for longer than that, but I hae noticed I do quit on ideas after a month or so. So that's the goal. One blog eery day for a month. Of course there may be some days I can't make it to the comput- eh, who am I kidding.

Celtics/Lakers: Game 2

I'm not usually a fan of basketball. Professional basketball anyway. To me they just seem like really old men knocking into each other. It's a different game than college hoops. College hoops has strategy, X's and O's have meaning. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't watch the NBA Championship between the Celtics and Lakers. Let's just say I've heard great things about this rivalry.

So, here I am watching an NBA game and I gotta say: It's a fun game! It's a lot different than watching it on Sportscenter. On Sportscenter they cue up all the outragous stuff. The dunks, transitional scoring, the technical fouls, the game changing 3's. But when I turned on ABC at 9:05pm (Sidenote: this shit is on late! I know LA is 3 hours behind, but 9pm? How are kids supposed to watch this game?Do kids nowadays stay up to midnight? Maybe I'm really old. When I was 15 I was in bed at 10pm tops. Also, girls didn't look anything like the ladies on Gossip Girl. If they did... well I still wouldn't have made a move, but it would have been a lot more exciting.) So, 9pm and Boston's Garden is pumped and Kobe Bryant is there and so is Garnett. This shit is fun.

12 mins a quarter? Fucking A! This is great. Sure, the clock stops after every foul and wow there were a lot of fouls, but the game flew by in the first half. The Celtics (the good guys right? I mean the Lakers are by definition the bad guys. They're from Los Angeles for one thing. Kobe's like Darth Vader, a guy who used to be good then fucked everything up and is now the right hand man of the Sith lord, Phil Jackson. The Celtics with their white unis and ability to hit a shot no bigger than a wombrat is dead on for the rebel alliance. SIDENOTE: You can relate anything to Star Wars if you look hard enough.) were just toying with the Lakers starters. Even their bench got into the act of knocking down jumpers. If I didn't know better I would have thought I was watching an NCAA game.

So, the 4th quarter rolls around and I'm still watching. Well, it's on the TV and I'm playing Scrabulous with my girlfriend, but it's still on. And looky what we have here the Lakers are making a run. A serious run. They pull within 4 points of the Celtics before time expires. Now, I may not be a basketball fan, but I know sports and that run at the end of the 4th is gonna light a fire under LA's ass. I believe they'll come out and slaughter the Celtics in Game 3. Why? Because they were down by a large margin and didn't give up. You gotta give it to them. Even the bad guys in Star Wars didn't give up when those kids blew up their large moon. They just went right back to work on another Death Star.

Watch your back Celtics. This shit is gonna kick up a notch.