Early this morning as I was waking up from a dream, my subconcious was trying to tell me something, I think.
In the last moments of this dream I watched as a guy who looked a lot like me did a back flip into an empty swimming pool and landed flat on his back. As he sailed through the air, he yelled this to me in a laughing, and very sarcastic voice:
"HEY JOEY, WHY DON'T YOU DO A SWAN DIVE INTO AN EMPTY POOL WITH YOUR HEALTH! THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GREAT IDEA!"
I haven't really been taking the best care of myself lately. I have been up and down off the emotional floor a lot, and the things that I do for myself that keep me together have been slipping. I haven't been eating very well. I haven't exercised in about two weeks. Meditation has not even been attempted in the same amount of time. I know that it's important to let the feelings run their course in this situation, and not fight them, but I think I may be letting myself wallow in them a touch too much.
Okay, message received. Today I will get my act together.
I also need to find a free or very cheap therapist. Any ideas?
Monday, September 18, 2006
I just got new headshots in April, and at that time I had fairly short, but shaggy, light brown hair. When I first returned home from my summer in Ohio I had shoulder-length black hair. I'm told the long hair suited me, but sadly if I expect to get any work through my agent, I needed to either get my hair changed back, or cough up a couple hundred bucks for new pics.
I had the color changed back to about as close as we could get it, but with the length I decided to try something new. I'm hoping that it's similar enough to my pics to be passable.
Take a look.
The girl cut it a couple days before we colored it, and we both think the style looked much better on me in black, but I think I still kind of like it this way.
Special thanks to Meg for financing this transformation.
I had the color changed back to about as close as we could get it, but with the length I decided to try something new. I'm hoping that it's similar enough to my pics to be passable.
Take a look.
The girl cut it a couple days before we colored it, and we both think the style looked much better on me in black, but I think I still kind of like it this way.
Special thanks to Meg for financing this transformation.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
History
Last night was a night to remember. It should be marked on calendars around the world.
Last night This Guy (meaning me) and Brian, Nick, Shannon, John and Ryan were all in the same place at the same time.
We played miniature golf and acted like hooligans. Dylan, Nick's little nephew was celebrating his seventh birthday in style with six crazy young adults. his pet word is "loco" and he used it often. We had a lot of fun. Brian and I especially had a good time goofing around with the little one.
Then we had mediocre pizza in GolfLand Castle. for amusement park pizza it was actually pretty good, but it's no Rosatti's.
Speaking of Rosatti's, some of you may remember a conversation with my family, involving the word "immersible." If you look in the archive it was Wednesday, March 22, 2006. If you haven't read it, do. It actually happened, and it's hilarious.
Anyway, yesterday I was over there again, and we had Rosatti's for dinner. Here is an exchange between gramma and gramps about the pizza.
Gramps: This one is a veggie supreme, and this one is a meat supreme, but I told them no pepperoni.
Granny: Meat supreme? But does it have pepperoni on it? Because...
Gramps: No, I told them no pepperoni, because I know you don't like pepperoni
Granny: ...because I don't like pepperoni.
Mom: Ma! He just said there's no pepperoni on it.
Granny: Oh, no pepperoni? Okay... because, you know, I don't like pepperoni.
Gramps: Jesus, woman, I know you don't like pepperoni!
Immersible. Immersible. Immersible.
Last night was a night to remember. It should be marked on calendars around the world.
Last night This Guy (meaning me) and Brian, Nick, Shannon, John and Ryan were all in the same place at the same time.
We played miniature golf and acted like hooligans. Dylan, Nick's little nephew was celebrating his seventh birthday in style with six crazy young adults. his pet word is "loco" and he used it often. We had a lot of fun. Brian and I especially had a good time goofing around with the little one.
Then we had mediocre pizza in GolfLand Castle. for amusement park pizza it was actually pretty good, but it's no Rosatti's.
Speaking of Rosatti's, some of you may remember a conversation with my family, involving the word "immersible." If you look in the archive it was Wednesday, March 22, 2006. If you haven't read it, do. It actually happened, and it's hilarious.
Anyway, yesterday I was over there again, and we had Rosatti's for dinner. Here is an exchange between gramma and gramps about the pizza.
Gramps: This one is a veggie supreme, and this one is a meat supreme, but I told them no pepperoni.
Granny: Meat supreme? But does it have pepperoni on it? Because...
Gramps: No, I told them no pepperoni, because I know you don't like pepperoni
Granny: ...because I don't like pepperoni.
Mom: Ma! He just said there's no pepperoni on it.
Granny: Oh, no pepperoni? Okay... because, you know, I don't like pepperoni.
Gramps: Jesus, woman, I know you don't like pepperoni!
Immersible. Immersible. Immersible.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
A fable
There was once a girl and a boy. They went into the woods together for a nice, long walk. Well, it was supposed to be a nice, long walk, but very shortly after their first steps upon the path they had been separated by an accident. He had fallen into a ravine, and she got lost trying to find a safe way to help him out. Now she heard all sorts of eerie noises all around her. She wanted to help the boy, but suddenly there were more pressing matters. Was that a wolf she heard?
Then, suddenly, there was a fog around her. The more scared she got the more the fog began to billow out of her. She quickly realized that the fog was under her control. She could make the fog, at will. This fog was no ordinary fog. It was a noxious gas that made anyone who breathed it very ill. It was somehow comforting and yet more terrifying than the woods themselves. She wondered if the boy was okay, but decided, first thing's first: she had to find her way out of the woods to safety.
After a time, the boy managed to climb his way out of the ravine and find his way home to their village. When he reached the village and found the girl was not there, he took off, back into the woods. Others joined in the search, but none could match the boy's energy. Meanwhile the girl had grown accustomed to her new ability. She was still frightened of the woods, but for some reason couldn't bring herself to leave. The boy and the villagers searched high and low, but she only threw the fog in their way. She convinced herself this was somehow protecting these people and herself. If the fog brought her a little comfort, maybe sharing it would help them too. She was wrong. The fog led many people astray. Many wound up back in the village, not sure how they had arrived there. Others were badly injured while stumbling blindly over uneven terrain.
Gradually, many people began to realize the source of this magical fog. It angered them. Why would she do this? Many voices rang out against the girl. She told herself she didn't care. It didn't matter. It was none of her business anyway, right? It seemed that the fog was having it's toxic effect on the girl as well. The more damage she caused, the more confused and upset the people became, and the more they stopped looking for her. She tried telling herself they didn't matter to her, that she was done with them anyway.
Though, one did not give up. The boy. He continued wandering around in the fog, calling her name. He knew she was still in there, and he wanted nothing more than to see her again. But she did not want to be found, so she rewarded his persistance with more and stronger fog. This fog was nearly impenitrable, and made the boy much more ill than any other. At times he could barely stand, and all he wanted to do was lie down and give over to the release of sleep. To this boy, this was not an option.
He's still in there to this very day. He's become aware enough of the fog's effects to wear a handkerchief over his face, and some days it helps. Some days not. Some days he starts thinking like maybe he wants to try walking back out of the fog (as if he could even tell which way). But then he remembers the girl and how special she is. She's still in there too. Once in a while he's sure he caught a glimpse of her, but as soon as he steps nearer, she vanishes. Several times the boy has stopped and tried to wait it out. At these times he understands that the fog only gets thicker the more he tries, and maybe letting the girl find her way out in her own good time would be best. These moments are quickly overtaken by the boy's own longing and claustrophobia and his efforts are renewed with even more vigor.
So, whenever you find yourself out and about on a foggy day, think of the girl and her boy. If you happen to be in a foggy woods, watch out for them.
At the very least, think of them in their woods and learn.
There was once a girl and a boy. They went into the woods together for a nice, long walk. Well, it was supposed to be a nice, long walk, but very shortly after their first steps upon the path they had been separated by an accident. He had fallen into a ravine, and she got lost trying to find a safe way to help him out. Now she heard all sorts of eerie noises all around her. She wanted to help the boy, but suddenly there were more pressing matters. Was that a wolf she heard?
Then, suddenly, there was a fog around her. The more scared she got the more the fog began to billow out of her. She quickly realized that the fog was under her control. She could make the fog, at will. This fog was no ordinary fog. It was a noxious gas that made anyone who breathed it very ill. It was somehow comforting and yet more terrifying than the woods themselves. She wondered if the boy was okay, but decided, first thing's first: she had to find her way out of the woods to safety.
After a time, the boy managed to climb his way out of the ravine and find his way home to their village. When he reached the village and found the girl was not there, he took off, back into the woods. Others joined in the search, but none could match the boy's energy. Meanwhile the girl had grown accustomed to her new ability. She was still frightened of the woods, but for some reason couldn't bring herself to leave. The boy and the villagers searched high and low, but she only threw the fog in their way. She convinced herself this was somehow protecting these people and herself. If the fog brought her a little comfort, maybe sharing it would help them too. She was wrong. The fog led many people astray. Many wound up back in the village, not sure how they had arrived there. Others were badly injured while stumbling blindly over uneven terrain.
Gradually, many people began to realize the source of this magical fog. It angered them. Why would she do this? Many voices rang out against the girl. She told herself she didn't care. It didn't matter. It was none of her business anyway, right? It seemed that the fog was having it's toxic effect on the girl as well. The more damage she caused, the more confused and upset the people became, and the more they stopped looking for her. She tried telling herself they didn't matter to her, that she was done with them anyway.
Though, one did not give up. The boy. He continued wandering around in the fog, calling her name. He knew she was still in there, and he wanted nothing more than to see her again. But she did not want to be found, so she rewarded his persistance with more and stronger fog. This fog was nearly impenitrable, and made the boy much more ill than any other. At times he could barely stand, and all he wanted to do was lie down and give over to the release of sleep. To this boy, this was not an option.
He's still in there to this very day. He's become aware enough of the fog's effects to wear a handkerchief over his face, and some days it helps. Some days not. Some days he starts thinking like maybe he wants to try walking back out of the fog (as if he could even tell which way). But then he remembers the girl and how special she is. She's still in there too. Once in a while he's sure he caught a glimpse of her, but as soon as he steps nearer, she vanishes. Several times the boy has stopped and tried to wait it out. At these times he understands that the fog only gets thicker the more he tries, and maybe letting the girl find her way out in her own good time would be best. These moments are quickly overtaken by the boy's own longing and claustrophobia and his efforts are renewed with even more vigor.
So, whenever you find yourself out and about on a foggy day, think of the girl and her boy. If you happen to be in a foggy woods, watch out for them.
At the very least, think of them in their woods and learn.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
I am less prone to anger, more prone to laughter, and generally more relaxed and focused.
But I am feeling overwhelmed by pain and loss. I recognize that I am getting better in a lot of good ways, but I feel so much worse. Today, after a simple conversation with You-Know-Who about the car, I broke down and cried. WTF?
I know who I am. I recognize my faults, and have been working on them for a long time. I spent a year in my "monk phase" on a journey of self-discovery to find those things out. I'm not perfect, but nobody ever will be. I've done the alone thing, and I don't need to be alone to keep growing. I've been in that place. I'm done with it.
Last night was my first foray back into the "game." Sort of. Basically, I'm lonely and seeking some physical affection. Even a good makeout would have worked for me. Instead, I had two VERY drunk girls throwing themselves at me. They were repeatedly telling me "I'm so drunk" and "you have a great body." The ego-stroking was nice, but they were way-hay too drunk to be even slightly interesting. I was of two minds on these two, actually. Part of me was entertained at how absolutely retarded a person can act under the influence. I found myself laughing a lot. However, the larger part of me was uncomfortable about the space invasion and aggresive nature of the girls' grabby-ness.
There were two other girls that caught my eye, but they each ended up going after two other dudes. And because my well-traveled brain is still on Ohio time, I was out like a light at 2 o'clock on the couch.
Welcome home.
But I am feeling overwhelmed by pain and loss. I recognize that I am getting better in a lot of good ways, but I feel so much worse. Today, after a simple conversation with You-Know-Who about the car, I broke down and cried. WTF?
I know who I am. I recognize my faults, and have been working on them for a long time. I spent a year in my "monk phase" on a journey of self-discovery to find those things out. I'm not perfect, but nobody ever will be. I've done the alone thing, and I don't need to be alone to keep growing. I've been in that place. I'm done with it.
Last night was my first foray back into the "game." Sort of. Basically, I'm lonely and seeking some physical affection. Even a good makeout would have worked for me. Instead, I had two VERY drunk girls throwing themselves at me. They were repeatedly telling me "I'm so drunk" and "you have a great body." The ego-stroking was nice, but they were way-hay too drunk to be even slightly interesting. I was of two minds on these two, actually. Part of me was entertained at how absolutely retarded a person can act under the influence. I found myself laughing a lot. However, the larger part of me was uncomfortable about the space invasion and aggresive nature of the girls' grabby-ness.
There were two other girls that caught my eye, but they each ended up going after two other dudes. And because my well-traveled brain is still on Ohio time, I was out like a light at 2 o'clock on the couch.
Welcome home.
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