I Like My Noodles

I can't stand people who say American Eagle slogans like they are life quotes, or words taken from the Bible or something. I don't like when people use curse words out of context. It's either a verb or an adjective, it can not be both in the same sentence. I don't like people brush up against you at the bar just because they think they're more important. I really don't like being lunged at by the pup. That shit was messed up. We got another dog so I think she is having some trouble adjusting, but I will take the baseball bat to her if it happens again. I do like the amazing veggie sub I just devoured from Mr. Pizza. It's this great little place I can walk to, just a couple blocks over. And it's so reasonably priced I couldn't even talk myself out of spending money two nights in a row. Last night, sixty two dollars, this night only five dollars. It's not even as much as the tip I left. I don't like having dry hands because it's so disgustingly cold outside. I don't like remembering that I have a load of laundry in the dryer when I'm in the middle of typing this thing. Dammit. I'm trying to make and keep mental lists of what I'm really looking for and what I really do like or am drawn to in a mate, in friends, and in conversations. This is another part of the "Personal ReInvention Tour", I'm trying to sift and comb through the materials of my life. If my life was a pot of boiling pasta, I'm trying to pour it through the colander so to eliminate all the hot water. I can't be in hot water anymore. That's another thing I don't like, when the noodles are too skinny and they fall through the colander holes just as the water does. That sucks. I like my noodles to remain where I want them. Obviously, I like cooking. That will never change.

"I always peek in a woman's freezer. The more ice cream, the more it impresses me." -Curtis Stone

Nice Umbrella

I wanna be an Avenger. I would be good at it. It's the soft core version of being a Bristow, also it would mean having a tailor. The umbrella is also totally kick ass. I would love to just carry the umbrella, look completely GQ approved and occasionally have to lay a smack down on some buggary idiot. The bowler hat is also snazzy. And, if I'm basing this off of the Ralph Fiennes version, I would look mighty good in just a towel. Although, vanity in full force now, I'm getting sorta impressed with the mirror when I look at it. Working out everyday is becoming a must have. Not because of the effects, although I like those, it's because I need that adrenaline rush. I need the cardio high. The blood pumping. It makes me more focused, it allows me to do more in one day, it gives me energy to take care of those around me. The last time I was in the greatest shape of my life it was because I associated looking good with control. It was high school, and there is nothing you can control in high school, so I made sure I was fit and trim. Nowadays I need to be at the top of my game physically so that I can do perform my best. Being involved in as many lives as I am, could make a boy tired. But I love all my friends and family so much that I can't be tired. I want to be there for everyone, I want to help, protect, defend, support and care for those around me. So I need to be fit and centered. I say and explain all of this because I can't help but feel like the sky may or may not crack open and let loose with the rain sometime soon. It's this sneaking suspicion that it's all going to come down, and if this does happen, I would like to be ship shape. In all ways of that phrase. If I am going to have to start carrying my stylish, metaphorical umbrella to block the rain and the bad guys, I'm glad that I'm in the best shape of my life...yet again. It kind of makes sense to be at the top of your game when you are in the stages and ages of my life. When you have the least solid ground, you should make your body as solid as possible. Plus it is a great way to release the bad juju that you can amass in just one day. Or even from just one shift at work. So yes, I may be carrying my nice umbrella, but don't let that fool you. I'll block the rain and take the punch if it means helping those I love.

"So much for science, I'll stick to swordplay." -John Steed

Milkshakes and Coffee

So, I have fully recovered from my trip to Chicago. It was draining, and stressful and I didn't really sleep at all. The drive back up to my house was scary as shit. And the first thing I did when I walked through the doors was erupt into tears and collapse on one of my housemates. I don't care for funerals at all. Not in the least. But I was as composed and as jovial as possible while there. Once I got back to my house, I let it sink in. An hour later I was climbing into my own bed, and setting the alarm to get up for work in a few hours. I came home to my guys, the pup, and the new addition to the house: the Brillo pad. It is a nine hundred year old terrier that grew up with one of the guys and now lives with us. It walks on only three legs, is smaller then the pet bunny I had, and has such bad breath that must be the reason it's still alive. It's halitosis even makes death revolt. But it's sweet and means well. It has already found out that my bed is ground level and therefore easy to climb up and sleep on. So it's not that bad. It farts. I don't think it can control all of that so well these days, so I ended up kicking it out after my room began to smell. That's the worst. Otherwise, not that bad. I did a major work out last night once I got home from work. Where I purchased a hoodie for the housemate who caught all my tears and snot. And after I wrapped it and placed it in his room, I worked it all out. All the tiredness, all the stress, all the death, and all the miles from the trip. It was awesome. After I showered, shaved and got my heart rate back to a normal pace I went in search of a milkshake. One of the housemates also wanted one, so we hit up the Checkers down the road. I use to go there for hot dogs, and when I pulled up I really didn't miss it. I don't miss fast food, or meat at all. And the chocolate milkshake was soooo good. It was like pudding. Hmmm, I just got a strong urge for some coffee. So I'm ending this one prematurely.

I'm Not Wearing Pants

So from Thursday til last night has been very fun. And productive. Just in a different kind of way productive. I made nice with people I had talked to in a while. Made new friends. Got to see and catch up with old friends. And burned, probably, somewhere between 20,000 to 30,000 calories while on the dance floor. It was a awesome. And really sweaty. But still really fun. But now I have to switch gears and go to Chicago for a funeral. And while I stand in my room wearing the underwear I slept in, it has just now occurred to me I don't own dress pants. Technically I do, but they are about seven waist sizes too big for me. It'd probably look more respectful if I just wore my black denim. I don't know. Maybe I can pull off the over sized pants with a big belt and a tight vest up top. Try to do a Bogart look. I'm not a fan of funerals at all. I'd much rather stay in my underwear and crawl back in bed. I've decided to make a stop at this bakery in town before I hit the road, some fresh bagels loaded with cream cheese might brighten my mood up. And they will help me fit into the too big dress pants. Ha. Ok, I need to get back to packing now.

"He who doesn't fear death dies only once." -G. Falcone

Choco-Lot!

And by that I mean, a lot! It's so good. It's so delicious. Even the dark kind is so good for you. Kind of. Anyways. Last night. Chocolate martini. With italian chocolate cake. It was almost too good to handle. It was like swimming in chocolate pudding and instead of choking on the water when you try to take a breath, it's just pudding so you sallow it. And while you're swimming, in this fictional chocolate ocean, it begins raining down dark chocolate truffles. Covered in oreo pieces. Damn. I just wanted to tell about how yummy last night was, and somehow made myself want to do it all over again. Plan backfired. I am supposed to go to the mall with friends later today, maybe I'll sign up to become a Godiva member. Apparently you get free samples once a month. It's all the rage. The yummy rage that is.

"Caramels are only a fad. Chocolate is a permanent thing." - Milton Snavely Hershey

Improv Living

When you're poor and don't have money to handle problems like you are use to handling them, you have to get creative. You have to improvise. I'm becoming very good at this kind of thing. Today at work I cut my finger, in a bad way. Instead of bandages or stitches, I ended up burning it shut with my lighter when I got home. It was, how do I say this, sort of empowering kind of. In the old days they knew how to deal with things on their own, so I'm just paying homage to my ancestors. And Boondock Saints. The first one, not the terrible sequel. Just the first one. So then I had to cut my hair, so I did it myself by borrowing a housemates clippers. I asked first, no worries. And then I wanted to have a fun night and enjoy some laughs. But without spending money. So I took dollar store sorbet that I bought the other day, added some Tropical Melon flavored Malibu Rum that was in the refrigerator, and sat down and enjoyed some TiVoed episodes of Golden Girls. Hek yes! That is quality television. And it was all going really well, until the Malibu kicked in and I began thinking about how much I hate the fact that I watch my favorite shows alone and not with my bf. Because I am currently lacking a bf. So yeh. Then I turned off the tv and came to my room. To write this little thing down real quick before I go to bed. Oh but not before I realized my space heater is making scary noises, so I guess I'm sleeping in my robe tonight, combined with my three comforters. And a body pillow. I don't mind Improv Living. It's sort of a right of passage. You just have to remember to laugh. It's just a lot harder to know when the punch line is, and when it's just a punch.

"Creativity is a type of learning process where the teacher and pupil are located in the same individual." -Arthur Koestler

Another Bristow

So pretty soon I am going to be working third shift hours. I had a meeting at work this evening detailing the ins and outs of what is going to be happening, and hopefully it should all be over by May. It all sounds very official, very intense and very high priority. It will be a lot of hours on the clock, which will make my bank account happy, but everyone seems convinced it's going to screw with my head. From where I stand, it's just going to be one long mission, which I am no stranger to. The last two years of middle school and all three years I spent at high school were a mission: evade enemy hostiles and survive till graduation. And I was successful, with a low casualty rate and high endurance merits. No one really knows exactly what I did to survive through those years, and I'm fine if it stays that way. The point is, if I need to condition myself to complete the task which has been assigned to me, I can do it. I need to give one hundred percent every hour I'm at work, the expected results were laid out so now I just have achieve them. I will also be ensuring that I do well and get my PT certificate, training for that begins shortly after third shift commences. These next several months are going to be intense, strenuous and possibly even brutal, but it's nothing I haven't done before.

"Get a pencil. Write this down. E M E T I B. Got that? Ok, now reverse it." -S. Bristow

The Power Of The Hoodie

My first alarm went off at 3:55 AM this morning. Then the second one at 4:03 AM. So I was out of bed by 4:08 AM. I remembering thinking something along the lines of "dammit, let's start this friggin day." Not an exact quote but it was close to that. So I run to the bathroom to stick my head under the drain, and mouthwash my mouth. Then I grab some coffee. I decided I was actually hungry so I baked some buns and spread red pepper hummus on them when I took them out and before I put them in my mouth. Run back to my room to put "work" clothes on. (i.e. me at my preppiest) I put Gosssip Girl to shame some days. So I have four buns and hummus, grab my trusty leather coat and run out the door. Then safely tip toe on the ice to get to my car. Once at work the time goes slowly and the job is tedious. I begin to resent my black argyle sweater vest for not being more accommodating to my tired little body about halfway through my shift. The good thing about work today, I really had no customer interaction at all. I was in the back sorting and reticketing. It wasn't terrible. But I was exhausted. Am exhausted. I started staring at the posters on the wall, and the words started popping out as if I had on 3-D glasses. No joke. It was crazy. I took the back roads home so I didn't have to face the expressway. What got me through work was coffee and my new favorite Crystal Light. It's so good. So I got home and decided I can't take a nap because I am not a "nap" kinda guy. So I got grumpy and more tired and I was really uncomfortable and irritable. So I changed into my favorite over sized hoodie and loose jeans and feel a little better. But then I remembered this time in middle school when I had a favorite hoodie and thought it was the best thing ever. And I wore it to a track meet once and thought I had lost it or a kid from another school and taken it and I got all depressed. And I was bummed out and complaining about and saying how upset I was to all my "friends" on the team. I even went to the principal of the hosting school and told him to call my coach if someone found a hoodie on the field. I was so sad. And then the next day at school one of my "friends" (joey mapolishlastname) said that he had taken it home by "mistake" and that I could have it back. I had such assholes for "friends" back in middle school. They were all against me. Made my life hell. I hope they have herpes. Fuckers. Now I'm really in a bad mood. I need more hummus. At least I have VIP status again at the bar tonight. That should kick me out of my bad mood. Or initiate a bar fight! We'll see how it goes. Have to make sure not to wear my glasses.

"I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?" -E. Hemingway

The Lights Are Flashing

You know when you go see a play and the first act is a certain way, either sad, uplifting, serious, or delightful, and then the intermission happens. And you either get up and stretch your legs or talk about what happened in Act I or you stay seated and try to guess what will happen in Act II. You might try to figure out if the rest of the play is going to be different or the mood might change or the storyline might shift or there might be a surprise ending. Either way you think you have like twenty minutes or so to get up and walk around and try to process what happened or you can stay sitting and get lost in your own predictions of what may come next, but then either way you run out of time. Just when you are about to buy M&M's from the concession stand the lights flash on and off. Or right when you are about to solve the mystery, figure out how to save the girl and kill the bad guy the lights flash and you snap back to reality. I think the lights are flashing in my life right now, I'm about five minutes away from starting my Act II. All the other guys in the house have classes starting and they are getting ready for the second semester of the college year. And in their own ways they are all different from the previous semester. Some are single, some have more classes, some are going to be on different campuses. They're at the beginning of their Act II, but I've still got flashing lights. My training doesn't begin until February 22nd, my new position at work doesn't start until right around that time too. So I'm just circling the theater waiting until I have to take my seat again. This just gives me more time to stretch my legs to make sure I can sit through Act II. Because no matter what the playbill says, there can always be surprises. Better make sure I'm ready.

"In the theater the audience wants to be surprised but by things that they expect" -Tristan Bernard

Go Ahead And Rub It

I'm talking about my freshly buzzed head. What did you think I meant? Hmmm. Anyways. That whole "one drink" rule, that's going to be a hard one to keep this week. And last night. Went out with some friends because people were visiting the city, so we had to show them how fun it was. I did keep my wits about me, however I had three beers. Which is more then one drink. I also put everyone's drinks on my tab, because I am a gentleman. I even dropped the girls at the door before I parked six blocks away and then ran without my coat down iced over sidewalks. The frostbite is worth it though to not have to have a bulky coat weighing you down all night. What we do to look good, right? Right. I have been keeping all the other rules though. And, like I said, it's going to be a slow process. A gradual process. I have been cooking up some delicious meals though. For instance: three cheese tortellini with sun dried tomato and basil mustard, fresh green peppers stuffed with fresh mushrooms and garbanzo beans, delicious red kidney beans with chopped green peppers and cheese, baked beans with elbow macaroni and cheese melted into it. So good. And so yummy. And so nutritious. I'm loving it. And eating it up. I have to reheat something before we all head out for the night. It's a friends birthday tomorrow. So this is night one of the celebrating. I'm going to try real hard to keep my money in check and stick to my one drink rule. But January is going to be hard a month for the drinking rule. Four birthdays! Four! And no one celebrates their birthdays these days for just one night. But, I'm not one to judge when it comes to that. Does any one remember the Extrava-Gaga-Ganza? Yeh, glass house. But everything else is going steady. Working out. Reading. Ohh, have I been reading. I'm re-reading "The Abs Diet" to brush up on my health and fitness knowledge. Also reading through "Psychology: Themes and Variations", it's an old textbook but I love that shit. Also need to hit up the library to get some Nick Hornby, Mark Haddon, Tom Perrota and I can't wait until Joshua Ferris' new book arrives. If it's anywhere as good as his first one, well, whoa! Sign me up now! So far, the only crap thing about today was that it took me an hour to drive home from work. But worse things could have happened. The fact that I'm listening to this song by Shakira makes up for it. "Men In This Town", it's sickly realistic to my life. Which is depressing, but the beat is perfect and she knows how to sing. I like it. Mucho.

"I know what to do with my life. I just don't know what to do with this one night."
— Joshua Ferris

Personal ReInvention Tour

So here's what I'm thinking. Changes need to be made. Little things, that will build up over time. It doesn't need to happen all at once. I don't think it would work if it happened like that. This is going to be gradual. This is long term. This is my own reinvention tour. I'm thinking about this next decade. It should be better then the last one. And not just because of credit cards, sex and grown up drinks. These next ten years are going to be what makes or breaks it for the rest of the decades I get. This is when I restructure the past and set out the future. I've got some rules so far.

-say no to fast food
-four desserts a month
-one alcoholic beverage a day, even when going out (this one might be difficult)
-the three date rule
-the first date rule
-the no bullshit rule
-no meat, unless it comes from the ocean
-work out everyday, somehow
-keep a calendar, stick to it, follow it
-create a budget, stick to it, follow it
-make your fashion, and stay loyal
-read more

The list might get added to, not sure yet. I am thinking that I would like to change my look up again. I know, I change my look a lot. Yet another thing me and Madge have in common. Also, me and my mother. I like the idea of picking a looking, a style, and image, and sticking with it forever and ever amen. All the iconic designers did it, and it makes sense. Which is why I like the idea of buzzing my head. It's always so clean and precise and certain. No surprises. No hassles. No issues. That's a big part of the look I want to create and keep for myself. Solid colors. Dark colors. Denim. Black. Grays. Reds. Maybe some white. No writing. I want it all to look sleek. Professional. Sexy Business. Hard edges and pointy corners. Ninety degree angles. Clean cut. Which is why I want to go back to a buzzed head. It's the definition of clean cut. Also, I've seen photographic evidence that the back of my head is thinning out. It's unfortunate. It's pathetic. And yes, it is noticeable. If I saw that photo and did not know it was the back of my head, I would make comments. Rude comments. So considering how it is late at night, and impulse decisions are also on my "do not do" list, I'm simply charging up my clippers and not using them just yet. But my shaggy hair makes me look younger too, and that's a negative. Younger and unkempt. And unreliable. Plus I knew this woman who, for her entire adult life, had a strategic hairstyle to hide the fact that she had hearing aides. I guess I shouldn't make that last sentence past tense, as far as I know she's still alive. Yeh, she's alive. Anyways, the point is: sometimes to look your best, and to have the most confidence and best outlook on life, you have to make some choices. Which is why the clippers lay charging.

Everything is going to take some time, and I know I'm going to have moments of wanting to bash my head into concrete, but I think these and other minor improvements will make a majority style difference. I want to last. I want the next ten years to be greater. And I'm relying on me to take the initiative.

"Better to live one year as a tiger, than a hundred as a sheep." -Madonna Ciccone

I Smell Love

So I was going to write a little something about how the one thing I actually do miss about the holidays is how the tv stations are just spattered with fragrance ads and commercials. I LOVE those. I ADORE those. Fragrance commercials are perfect, and sexy, and sweet, and charming, and romantic, and wistful, and dreamy, and lovely, and they make a realist like me actually think that life can be like that. Until they end and then someone is trying to sell me car insurance. I would take the cute, British gecko over semi-obnoxious Flo every time! For some reason the Gecko reminds me of Jude Law. I know, big surprise. He also has fragrance ads, that make me melt. And I could list off a plethora of A-List stars and models and beautiful people who also have their own fragrance commercial(s) but I don't have time now. I was totally going to make a huge list, and you would be surprised how many Oscar winners would be on it, but I got all caught up in watching them on YouTube. I literally, and I'm a tad embarrassed, spent the last hour watching fragrance ads on my compy. I know, I know. But they are just so magical! Seriously. Watch them. Dior, Givenchy, Dolce and Gabbana, Armani, Chanel, Lancome, Nicole, Audrey, Uma, Naomi, Scarlett, Hillary, Charlize, Eva, Clive, Jamie, David, Claudia, Garrett and of course Jude. I want to hop in bed straight away and hope my dreams are just as perfect, well dressed and sexy.



"A women who doesn't wear perfume has no future." -Coco Chanel

"A woman's perfume tells more about her than her handwriting." -C. Dior

Keep Em Guessing....Oh Jude

I make shit sparkle. I bring smiles. I mediate. I negotiate. I entertain. I perform. I dance. I drink. I care. I work. I love. I sparkle.

So, another decade. That's exciting. More of the same, or should I change it up a bit? What really happens when we buck the system? Who exactly gets knocked off balance? Running from the past or running towards the future? Surviving or living? Clean conscious or clear complexion? Keeping up or making up? Unspoken competition or mental disillusion? Holding my tongue but sticking out my neck? Beautifully tragic or handsomely disastrous? Creating rules to break them or setting standards to make them? What's my motivation? What's my character? What's my role? What script are we reading off of? How much could possibly happen in ten years.....


I saw the Sherlock Holmes movie, best film I've seen in years. Years.
I survived the holidays.
And all that came with them.

Worked 6 AM to 10 AM today. Came home and slept for another hour or so. Then cleaned the house for two hours or so. Did laundry. Scrubbed the bathroom floor. Scrubbed the sink. The shower walls, doors, floors and faucets. Windows. Sweeping. Dusting. Wiping. Cleaning. Thinking.

When I clean house, I like to pretend I don't live there. I'm just part of a hired cleaning service, and I can distance myself from the mess and chaos and dirt I'm taking care of. If I distance myself, I can judge and make comments inside my head. When I'm detached, I clean better. If it's not a mess I know, then I can clean it all up. I would never have dirty bathroom floors. I would never leave the counter so scattered. I would never allow things to get so out of hand. No matter what, it always looks better once I'm finished.

I'll see Sherlock Holmes again, it's that good.

And, I'll see about this next decade thing. Everyone's saying it's a big deal. Hmmmm

“My only obligation is to keep myself and other people guessing.” -J. Law