You May Never See Another Dog Blog From Me

How is it Wednesday? I have been busy. I promised myself a Monday blog just to keep things rolling in my tiny corner of cyberspace....ooops. No good writing today, just some thoughts.

My dog had to get put to sleep yesterday. I am not going to pretend to be any kind of a dog lover because you all know I am not, but Torrie was the best. I got her for Christmas when I was 15. I named her Torrie because when I was 15, I had all of my kids names picked out and my girl name (I was going to have 2 boys, a girl, and then another boy), was going to be Victoria but I was going to call her 'Torrie'. This explains something about my childhood. Yes, I was socially awkward. This does not explain something else. How was I not gay?

Well, with Torrie's passing I can't help but focus on 2 things: 1) Why get a dog when you know you will have to watch it die? 2) Something that tied me to being a 15 year old kid is gone. You know me. I can't NOT re-examine the past 15 years of my life.

Black labs live to be 10-12. Mine lived to be 15. I guess that makes me lucky. I don't feel better knowing that. I had forgotten how much I used to play with her back then. I bought my own dog food, paid for dog classes. I was a legit owner. Not bad for a kid. When I moved out a couple years later, I left her with my mom. She loved my mom the most, and will always be remembered as my mom's dog. But for me, she was my dog. We had 3 other dogs growing up. She was the only one I claimed.

15 years. Is that a long time? A short time? What did I do in her lifetime?

Firsts: real job, real girlfriend, real car, love & pain
Life: graduated HS, moved out, moved back, bought a house, graduated college, moved to Reno, got my masters, moved back, moved around, moved to Atlanta
Jobs: babysitter, computers, office furniture, cable, media buyer, advertising, IT start-up, sportswriter, radio/TV talent, non-profit development
Women: just kidding, but believe me, I know the list and I went through it.

If this was a real-time post, you would be wondering where I have been for the past hour. I have literally started putting actual dates to the significant events of the past 15 years of my life. How old was I when I bought my house? What actual year did start working there? I was going there, and doing that, when I was dating who? I got up to my college graduation before I decided I should finish this blog.

Obsession + lack of memory = a fun time digging away at the past. My resume' was a great guide. Throw in my school dates which I know, and it starts to take shape. For some reason I am good at remembering when I started and stopped dating girlfriends too.

I had actually planned on talking about a bunch of other stuff in here, but now I am out of time. Spent my whole lunch break on a stupid timeline (which I secretly love).

Oh well, I'll see what I can get to later in the week. Guess its fitting that Torrie get her own blog. When she was a puppy, I was a boy. Now she is gone, and I am a man. R.I.P. girl. You were a great dog.

Goodbye 757

It's official. For the first time since the 804 split and the 757 was born, I cannot be reached with a 757 area code. Try it, and this is all you get:

"The person you have called is unavailable right now..."

Then some Spanish, then some technical jargon. It's erie. I have called my own number a half dozen times this week. I know it's lame, but it's just so bizarre to me. Not sad, or happy, or emotional at all. Just bizarre.

It took 6 months to accept that I should move, 6 months to accept that I would move, and another 6 to accept that I had moved. And then I canceled the last thing that connected me to VA.

January, 2008: I knew my time in VA was over.
July, 2009: I knew I wasn't going back.

Goodbye 757. You have been good to me. I left for Reno in 2002, but we both knew I'd be back. When I moved to the 'burg for grad school and promised I'd never return, we both knew I was lying. When I was staying out in LA for large chunks of '03 and '04; even going so far as to almost take a job out there, we both knew it was just a fling. Even when NYC and Philly had me so many times, you always knew I would find my way home.

This time it's for real. Know that I will always think of you fondly as the place of my youth and my first love.

p.s. Why do I love being melodramatic when I write? Am I like this in real life?

Baby Crazy

This is not a blog about golf, but Ross Fisher is a golfer. If you are a golf fan, you know who he is. If you are not, you have never heard of him. Every golf fan knows who Fisher is because he was all over the British Open coverage that wrapped up yesterday. You see, Fisher's wife is pregnant and due any day. Fisher had promised to leave the golf tournament as soon as his wife went into labor to be there for the birth. No matter what. As fate would have it, Fisher was right in the thick of things after Saturday's round which led to the debate: What if he is about to win the Open on Sunday when his wife goes into labor?

Would he really leave and lose maybe his only chance to win the greatest golf tournament he could ever win? To spend your whole life, with one dream, and walk away right at the end? The argument of course, is career over family. But they missed a key point. I get being there for your wife. But I ask you, what about the kid?

You see, when I was young, I found out that the only reason that my parents stayed together was because of me. My dad thinks this a great compliment to me. It's not. You see, I have lived every day of my life, from the moment I learned that, trying to make it worth it. Two people's lives, forever changed, because of me. That is a lot of pressure. And to be quite honest, I have never felt good enough. I probably never will. Throw in the fact that my dad was a pastor and all that goes into being a pk, and my sanity never had a chance.

The good news of course, is that my parents made it. They fought a lot when I was little (they were the same age that I am now, but with 3 kids and no money; I can't even imagine what that was like), but they grew up. Now, they are totally in love and happy, and could not imagine their lives without each other. Great for them, too late for me. I have spent my whole life trying to validate my existence as a human being; to prove that I deserve to be here.

On top of that, when I started dating I was reminded all to often to 'not marry my mother'. Needless to say, all women are crazy, so all women remind me of my mother.

Here's the sad part: I readily acknowledge that I have the greatest parents ever. I have the 'I wish I had your parents' parents. Kids with super-strict parents thought my parents were super-chill. Kids with no structure would talk to my parents for hours because the needed someone to care. On top of that, my parents never did anything to intentionally hurt me. My dad thought he was giving me a boost when he told me that I was so great he could never leave. He thought he was helping when he warned me about women. My parents love me more than anything. I don't know how some of you made it. I know I am the guy who won the lottery and is complaining because next week it would have been even bigger. Believe me, I get it. Somehow realizing how messed up that is only makes me more messed up. I have only gotten better by accepting my flaws and working to improve. So what's my deal?

I was talking to my brother when I was home and I think I discovered something: I don't appreciate being born. I think my parents have a genuine appreciation for the fact that their parents gave them life. I don't. I love my parents, but I didn't ask to be born. They got it on, and 9 months later they had to deal with me. I had nothing to do with that. Why do I owe them? Not only that, they were legally required to take care of me. I was a baby. Those were the rules. I know it's shitty to say, but I feel like they did what they were supposed to do. As soon as I could take care of myself I did.

Don't get me wrong, I am so very grateful for everything that they have done. They sacrificed a great deal for me. I have never wanted a day in my life. Even after I left, they always welcomed me back anytime I hit a rough patch. My life would be far worse without that support.

Maybe that's why I have grown so much lately. Our relationship is a choice now, and they have proven to always be there for me. I don't need them like a baby needs them, and I couldn't imagine life without them. One of these days I will have my own kids, and when I do, I will probably understand just how immature and silly I am at this moment in my life. That still doesn't change one simple fact:

If that Fisher kid had cost his dad the Open, just by being born, he could kiss any chance of being normal out the window. Then again, maybe normal is overrated. I'm as crazy as they come and I've had a damn good life.

Fetch Me My 'Depends'

I just finished reading Josh's Emmy blog and my mind wandered for a bit. I'm a daydreamer so this happens often.

Then "Ba-Ding". My e-mail notification tone. "Bzzzzz" my BlackBerry vibrates under my arm alerting me of the same. A new message notification pops up on my computer screen.

The daydream is abruptly over.

I am sure this has happened countless times before, but this time it hit me: Do I really need to hear, feel, and see that my 'Daily Media report' has arrived?

I know this is a very tired and cliche' old man rant, but I really do love technology. I just got this VOIP thing set up so all of my voice mails are sent to my e-mail in a .wav file. It's awesome. But for some reason I was annoyed by it today. Last night I was hanging out at a rock show and was overwhelmed by all the teenagers. "Teenagers?" I could not believe I used that word. That is what old people call me! What is going on? How did this happen?

I was uncomfortable until I found a prematurely balding guy that I convinced myself was older than me. Until I saw his girlfriend that couldn't buy a lottery ticket. Needless to say, I showed the girls I was with that I could still hang...until I fell asleep at 11:45. Thankfully they put a blanket on me before they left. That fan would have given me a cold.

Well, enough rambling. I have three devices reminding my that my fantasy football IR to PS deadline is tonight. Thank god I didn't miss that!

Ramblings of a Traveling Man

I have a bunch of notes and partial-posts from my week home that at one time I was going to turn into blogs, but I am just going to ramble today. Pretty much a combination of self-serving therapy, and stuff I would usually journal because I like keeping track of interpersonal developments, but I have been trying to be more 'raw' lately. That probably sounds weird, but it is all a part of taking my self-awareness (which I am good at) to a greater level of self-acceptance (which I am not).

I am currently sitting pool-side listening to music while on my lunch break. It is a perfectly calm setting. I am forcing myself into a time constraint which will be an interesting exercise. When the time is up, I will just post.

A friend of my parents is going through a divorce. This led to an interesting conversation with my dad on the subject. In many areas of a spiritual, moral, or Biblical nature I go to my dad as the expert. Strangely, this was the first time we had ever talked about this subject. I had always assumed he was a pretty hard line 'abuse or infidelity only' guy. He would probably characterize himself that way as well, but 'emotional/verbal' abuse and unwillingness to receive help fits in there somewhere. I found this conversation to be interesting.

During this same talk we got into the subject of marriage (my brother's wedding being the purpose of my visit of course). I have been thinking a lot about marriage in the past year or so. Ready/not ready? Could I do it? Do I want to? Should I want to?

During this talk he said to me in a very matter-of-fact manner: "You are a self-centered person."

Of course what he said is not newsworthy. He is 100% true. What was interesting was that this did not hurt my feelings. For my whole life, my dad has been able to crush me. For some reason what he thinks about me is so very important, that it can be consuming at times. But I didn't flinch. Maybe I am growing up finally. Becoming my own man. Aware of the things in me that need to change, but my identity is about me and God. Is my dad becoming just my dad after 30 years of mental gymnastics? I always knew it wasn't my dad's fault that I felt so much pressure. He is an awesome guy. Am I finally out of his shadow?

As for being married, it sounds painful. "Dying to myself"? Who signs up for that? But I am beginning to feel like the best version of me cannot exist alone. I can only grow so much as a self-centered, selfish person. I am generous, loyal, and a great friend to a great many people. Most people would characterize me as a 'good person'. People that have known me long enough would say I have 'completely changed'. But, have I ever "died to myself"? Not even close. I live to maximize my own happiness. I changed because I like myself better this way. I am a great friend, because I like having great friends back. I am fairly good at golden-rule type things, becasue I get a return. I am moral to the extent that it provides the best outcome for me in the long run. The closer I get to God the stronger I feel that I have only begun to scratch the surface of who I can be. And if that takes "death" then so be-it. I don't want to settle for less, just to be comfortable and avoid pain. (Insert caterpillar-butterfly metaphor here).

My little brother is married. That was a wild thing to get my head around. He has a wife. It didn't hit me until after he left the wedding. As soon as he was gone, I was ready to go home. And home for me is Atlanta, GA. I was there for him, and once he left I realized that things were different now. That was a crazy night. I had a great time in VA, but I was ready to be in my own place, with my own life. My parents house, borrowing cars, Virginia Beach in general, it all felt like a place I used to live. And it reminded me of a person I used to be. I like being out on my own; starting my own thing; being my own man. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my family and friends. But I need to start putting some roots down here.

It's time to start making friends here, and making a life here. As soon as the plane touched down, I could feel it. I was home. And it felt good. I missed my office, I missed my apartment, I missed my car. The mental switch finally flipped. I was gone, and I was happy. My first night back, some girl from a church I have been to was randomly at my softball game. She recruited me to come play with them. Maybe it’s nothing, but sometimes you can't get started on a new life until you are ready to leave the old one. Don't worry Virginia Beach, I'll be back in August. We always have a great time, but I'm just a visitor.

179.8

In the Spring of 2007 I thought I had peaked as a softball player.

You see, when I first started playing I didn't realize how different it was from baseball (which I had played my whole life), and I totally sucked. I couldn't get the ball out of the infield, much less hit anything hard (which is the key to the game). I decided then and there that I was going to dedicate myself to the game and become a good enough player that strangers would recruit me to play with them. I wanted to be a mercinary. By the Fall of 2006, the upstart, scrub team we had put together had grown from a D-league laughing stock, to a legit C-ball team that competed for the playoffs. I had become a good player, but towards the end of the 2007 Spring season there was a problem; I had no speed. My only extra base hits were the home runs I hit over the fence. You see, I was fat.

I always ate whatever I wanted and I could never crack 200 lbs. Then all of the sudden it happened. No big deal. Then 205. Then 210. 220!? When I finally hit 223, I realized there was no ceiling, I would just keep getting fatter. And now my softball game was suffering. Yeah I was hitting a lot of home runs, but my game is about speed. I am not big enough to be the stereotypical fat softball player (nor did I ever want THAT). I needed to get in shape. At the end of the season I e-mailed the entire team, and told them I would be under 200 lbs by the start of Fall ball, or I would bench myself.

So I broke up with the girl that made me so fat (not really, but the story sounds better that way. My sister did showed me a picture of us back then a few days ago and I was shocked at how fat I looked. She should have broken up with ME because I was so fat). It wasn't long until I was under 200. I made it well before the season started. Shockingly, I had started dating another girl that I outweighed by 120 lbs. She wrote 185 on a post-it and stuck it on my monitor. I stared at that every day. A couple months later I made my new goal, and eventually, just to say I lost 40 lbs, I stretched it to 183.

For all of 2008 I lived around 185. Life was good. Then I moved to Atlanta. I was working all of the time, eating out a lot more, and never exercising. I was consistently over 190, and when I hit 195 I put on the breaks. Never again. This time I decided for a lifestyle change. I wanted to eat healthier anyways now that I am 30. More organic, more veggies, less red meat. My friends started calling me manorexic, and I joked about it, but I really do feel great. I was under 185 in a jiffy and have been there a while. Then I started exercising a little bit and really started living in the 181-183 space. Could I ever hit the 170s? Nah, that's college weight. Every time I would close in on 180, it would be after a game, and once I re-hydrated I'd be back at 182. But this morning, the dream was realized.

I got up, had my AM pee, and stepped on the scale. 180.0. Right on the button. I couldn't believe it. So I ran my hand under some warm water, squeezed out a few more drops, and stripped off my boxers. Sure enough: 179.8. I made it. This is a very happy morning for me.

Oh yeah, I got recruited to join another team last night, after I went 3-3 with another HR. That was actually going to be a part of today's blog before I stepped on the scale. Maybe I'll get to that later, but for now, I hit the 170s baby!

I say "I Do" to 'The Proposal'

Hollywood does it again. As big of a cynic as I am in my real romantic life, I am blindly optimistic when it comes to love on the big screen. It's been a long time since I have seen a RomCom in theaters. In fact, the last one I remember is 'Serendipity' which almost doesn't count b/c it was during my "I heart John Cussack" phase. Don't laugh. He had a great run.

Pause to review my JC experience:

1) Early-mid 90s: I didn't live the 80s until the 90s so 'Better Off Dead', 'One Crazy Summer', and 'Say Anything' is an underrated trio of decade dominance imo. (You can even throw in the great Disney pic 'Journey of Natty Gann' which I loved as a sheltered 7 year old).

2) Con Air in 1997 was fun when I was 18 and before TNT decided to run it every weekend for the next decade

3) Didn't see 'Gross Pointe Blank' ('97) until 1998 when it came out on video. Great pic.

4)Being John Malkovich 1999. Classic.

5) High Fidelity 2000. An ALL-TIME fav.

After a run like that, you're telling me I'm missing 'Serendipity' in 2001? Hell no. In fact I enjoyed it very much. I even tried to talk myself into liking 'America's Sweethearts' and 'Runaway Jury'. "He's still got it!" I would argue. Then 'The Ice Harvest' put me on life support, and 'Must Love Dogs' pulled the plug. But my 2001 love was a very very real thing. I don't regret you JC. You helped make me the man I am today.

In a shocking turn of events, I started a blog and switched to something completely off-topic. I swear, I don't do this on purpose. You know this if we've have ever had a personal conversation. Back to the point.

I love the movies, and I love going to the movies. However, my theater priorities are as follows:

1 - Big Budget action movies. Think 'Transformers' or 'Iron Man'. Some movies are just made for the big screen. Seeing 'The Matrix' on opening day was one of my favorite movie experiences ever. 12 months later on HBO just wouldn't have been the same.

2 - Adult Comedy on opening weekend. Think Sandler or Farell in their heyday, or 'The Hangover' currently. Some suck, but when you are the first one to see 'Old School' and you can laugh your ass off in a crowded theater and then relive the jokes for the next 3 weeks, it is totally worth it.

3 - The Oscar films. Love seeing as many or all of the relevant Oscar films in theaters. In 2007 I rocked; I saw them all on my own when they came out and it was great. Last year I sucked; I saw 'Slumdog Millionaire' the day of the Oscars, and didn't catch 'Benjamin Button' until video.

4 - Others. Think 'Garden State' or 'The Weatherman'. It's hit or miss, but you try to be on the first wave of something unique. I missed the former, and swung and missed with the latter, but it's a fun game. I scored with 'Sideways' on opening weekend, but that ended up in the the Oscar group anyways.

5 - Random indie at the Naro. Think 'Waking Life'. Got to support the little guys.

Of course many of those fall through the cracks leaving very little time for RomComs. The RomCom theater experience is for daters, and I am not a fan of the movie date:

A) First dates are for finding reasons NOT to see the person again. Sitting in a movie does not help you find out how annoying, shallow, or dumb a girl is. Give me 20 minutes and a $4 cup of coffee, and I know if I'll ever see that girl again.

B) Girlfriends have to (and hopefully like to) see movies from the previously discussed list. I love the RomComs themselves, but we can see them on video without missing anything.

There are so many movies I want to see in theaters but don't have time for. I just can't waste a theater day on a movie that really doesn't need to be on the big screen or experienced in a crowd.

After seeing 'The Proposal', I may need to rethink the movie date. It was at the end of a 'day hang', so lest I talk this poor girl's ear off any longer, the movies seemed like a good capper. I had heard bad things about 'Transformers 2' and good things about 'The Proposal' so I figured, what the hay? Lets try it.

The theater was pretty full, mostly couples around my age, so that was a good start. Always good to be in the right demo for a positive theater experience. It also helped that this particular movie was actually funny. I laughed a lot. In fact, I always love it when I can laugh more than I am supposed to, and the people around me join in. Maybe they are laughing "at" me, but whatever. It's still a fun vibe.

***Spoiler Alert***

You know what? I totally bought the movie. 2 people that hate each other absolutely CAN fall in love in three days as long as the experience is quirky and unpredictable enough. Lifelong emotional damage can be wiped away in 72 hours as long as there is a wacky but endearing grandmother involved. Bonus points if she can pull off the fake heart attack. A father-son bond that can never be broken will be forged. I am not being sarcastic. I wish I had a wacky but endearing grandmother. I would probably be married with three kids right now if I did.

I love the movies because they are fun. This movie was more fun being at the theater, laughing with random people, and seeing it before I heard much about it. I am an optimist in all but love, but when I am at the movies I believe again. So bravo Hollywood. Even if it was just for 2 hours, you made a believer out of me. Now I just need to find someone I really hate...