test test test
Okay, I can’t be the only person that does this. I hope.
Now, mind you, by me sharing what I’m about to share, I am terrified you’re going to think I’m the biggest narcissistic douche on the planet. But I assure you, I’m not. I have a therapist that will attest to my relative well-being.
Every once in awhile a terrifying moment reminds me just how little control I have over my own life.
A recent few…
Today the wind was gusting (probably not a verb) so much near the lakefront in Chicago that I thought I was going to fall over on my bicycle. I’ve ridden for three years to and from work and never experienced wind like this. Now, if I fall, no big deal. I won’t die. But… I’m also carrying my six pound dog on my back in, uh, a backpack. Didn’t need the work “back†in that sentence. Too late!
This might be the first Father’s Day I truly understood.
Maybe I missed one or two over the years, but that’s it. I’ve always been present, with presents. Well, at least a card. A card that was bought the morning of at the grocery.
I’m really mad at you, you know.
Why?
Because when I was fifteen I was a busboy at a steakhouse and busy not getting dates. You’re winning national singing contests and releasing videos.
Ha ha! Oh… Wait… I didn’t mean to laugh at you.
Yesterday I wrote about how I goofed and showed up at my birthday dinner a full day before my birthday.
Well, today WAS my actual birthday. I had to go in to work in the morning for a few hours, but then I had the rest of the day free. I thought, “What would I like to do today?”
One of my favorite lines from 16 Candles is near the end where Sam’s parents realize they forgot her birthday. They apologize, and during that scene, her younger brother comes from another room and starts laughing and just says, “Classic.”
Just last night I found an old file with letters, poetry, and other nonsense I had forgotten about from long ago. As a 35 year old, some of these writings date back to 1995, a year after I graduated high school.
You may or may not find this amusing, but I discovered a piece I had started to write (for myself apparently) about how high schoolers should drink alcohol because being in high school is stressful enough. Obviously, it’s satire. I really don’t care if your kids drink or not. I have my own problems.
On Tuesday my mom informed me that she was going to spend the next night at my condo. I was treating her to The Iceman Cometh here in Chicago and since the play is five hours long, she wasn’t going to drive home afterwards.
Because I didn’t want my mom to see how I really live, I went on Craigslist to find a housekeeper that could come over that evening. After sending out about ten requests, I finally got a hit.
My girlfriend will tell you she’s my #1 fan. My friends say the same. The parents brag about how funny I am. They’re most likely being more nice than anything. And they’re not my true biggest fans.
Well, at least not anymore.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
