I've never been a big proponent of getting even for past injustices. Even though I sometimes want to act before I think, I've seldom let it get the best of me.
Sure, there are things that have happened in my life that I wish could be changed. Wrongs that could be righted.
I'd love to find the guy who sucker punched me in eighth grade and make him cry, just like he did to me back then. But life has done that for me. He's a fat pothead now with no education, no job and no future.
But I don't take any pleasure in that. The scum of the Earth never succeed.
Ok, maybe they do. But in this instance, that's not the case.
I'm the kind of guy that doesn't hold grudges. Unless you apply it to professional sports. Because the New York Islanders need to work off about twenty years worth of my grief.
Or to my fifth grade teacher who didn't let me play Peter Pan in the school play.
Why you might ask?
"You're too husky to be Peter Pan. No one will believe that you can fly."
In effect, you crushed the spirit of an eleven year old kid. Congratulations dear educator.
So it's interesting to note that she was transferred out of the school a couple of years later. It might be because of her terrible attitude towards her students. It might be because she was a dried up old whore. Either way, I hope she gets influenza.
But overall, anyone who has done me any wrong over the years can rest easy. I bear no hard feelings towards you. In fact, I bear no real hard feelings toward anyone or anything that has ever happened to me.
On another note, I found out today that a not-so-kind ex's father is not what he portrays himself to be.
And I find that absolutely hysterical!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
On Pipe Dream
Last Thursday, it was late at night, I had a somewhat uneasy feeling in my gut. Something seemed to be missing. It then occurred to me that if it had been about a year and a half ago, I would have been a production night at the office of my college newspaper, Pipe Dream.
So a little background information here:
I came to Pipe Dream with very little writing experience to speak of in the reporting or writing games and ended up eventually becoming Assistant Sports Editor. I went to a general interest meeting on a whim, and ended up falling in love with the entire writing genre. It's something that I've never had any regrets about.
It's strange, I'm not normally the type of person who ever regrets anything. Sure, I've done some questionable things in my time on Earth, but nothing I would deem life altering. But I can safely say that if it had not been for Pipe Dream, I would not be where I am today.
Oh sure, I'm not exactly setting the literary world on fire, but I'm happy with the work that I do here in this blog and in other mediums, and I think that the people who do read those things walk away knowing a little bit more about me. Hell, they might even be slightly entertained. And frankly, that's part of the reason that I do what I do.
I look back on my time in WB03 (the Pipe Dream office) and I don't regret a whole lot. I worked very hard at being a sports writer, putting in a lot of hours and putting my shirt limit of patience to the test. But all in all, I walked away from my two-ish years associated with the publication with more experience and more friends.
The one true regret that I have however, is that I allowed one person to bring me down continually, with little to no reason for doing so. My significant other at the time was a vindictive and angry person who could not stand to see anyone gain any type of acclaim unless it was for her benefit. It led the managing editor of the newspaper to say on more than one occasion "When are you going to dump that bitch?"
Not soon enough K-Dogg, not until after it was too late to take advantage of all of the fun that I ended up missing.
But I digress, this entry is not about regrets. It is about voicing my opinion of the people that I worked with, without mentioning too many names. Suffice to say that if they read this, they'll know who they are.
I won't say too much about my sports staff, they were a good group of guys, and I learned a lot from them.
Our esteemed editor in chief, who now works for MLB.com, was a sports guy at heart. I didn't always agree with his opinion on things, but he knew what he was doing. And I learned a hell of a lot about writing thanks to him.
There also was a core group of a few gals that I always wished that I could be as ballsy as. They said anything that came to mind, generally to the hilarity of the surrounding people. Also, at the time, I may or may not have had a bit of a crush on one or more of them. But I'm sure as hell not naming any names there.
I can also say that in my time with Pipe Dream I met the nicest person that I have ever known. And anyone who worked in that office with me will know exactly who I am referring to.
And then there's my buddy Dave. I mention him by name only because I know that he won't mind. Sir, you might be one of the most underrated humorists that I have ever known.
High praise from a man who doesn't give it easily, no matter what this blog entry might convey.
But that's neither here nor there.
The bottom line is that no matter what, these people have earned my respect, which is not something that I give away easily. Anyone who knows me for any more than five minutes will tell you that if I don't like you in that time, I probably will never like you.
And while we're on the subject, I am fully aware that not everyone likes me. And I'm ok with that. But I can sleep soundly at night in the knowledge that no matter what anyone says, my work ethic in the post of Assistant Sports Editor was never lacking.
So my overall advice, if any can be gleaned from this rant, is that in life, you never know when something great will come along. And if something seems like it's worth taking a chance on, do it.
Only good can come of it. And if it's not good, at least it'll be fun.
So a little background information here:
I came to Pipe Dream with very little writing experience to speak of in the reporting or writing games and ended up eventually becoming Assistant Sports Editor. I went to a general interest meeting on a whim, and ended up falling in love with the entire writing genre. It's something that I've never had any regrets about.
It's strange, I'm not normally the type of person who ever regrets anything. Sure, I've done some questionable things in my time on Earth, but nothing I would deem life altering. But I can safely say that if it had not been for Pipe Dream, I would not be where I am today.
Oh sure, I'm not exactly setting the literary world on fire, but I'm happy with the work that I do here in this blog and in other mediums, and I think that the people who do read those things walk away knowing a little bit more about me. Hell, they might even be slightly entertained. And frankly, that's part of the reason that I do what I do.
I look back on my time in WB03 (the Pipe Dream office) and I don't regret a whole lot. I worked very hard at being a sports writer, putting in a lot of hours and putting my shirt limit of patience to the test. But all in all, I walked away from my two-ish years associated with the publication with more experience and more friends.
The one true regret that I have however, is that I allowed one person to bring me down continually, with little to no reason for doing so. My significant other at the time was a vindictive and angry person who could not stand to see anyone gain any type of acclaim unless it was for her benefit. It led the managing editor of the newspaper to say on more than one occasion "When are you going to dump that bitch?"
Not soon enough K-Dogg, not until after it was too late to take advantage of all of the fun that I ended up missing.
But I digress, this entry is not about regrets. It is about voicing my opinion of the people that I worked with, without mentioning too many names. Suffice to say that if they read this, they'll know who they are.
I won't say too much about my sports staff, they were a good group of guys, and I learned a lot from them.
Our esteemed editor in chief, who now works for MLB.com, was a sports guy at heart. I didn't always agree with his opinion on things, but he knew what he was doing. And I learned a hell of a lot about writing thanks to him.
There also was a core group of a few gals that I always wished that I could be as ballsy as. They said anything that came to mind, generally to the hilarity of the surrounding people. Also, at the time, I may or may not have had a bit of a crush on one or more of them. But I'm sure as hell not naming any names there.
I can also say that in my time with Pipe Dream I met the nicest person that I have ever known. And anyone who worked in that office with me will know exactly who I am referring to.
And then there's my buddy Dave. I mention him by name only because I know that he won't mind. Sir, you might be one of the most underrated humorists that I have ever known.
High praise from a man who doesn't give it easily, no matter what this blog entry might convey.
But that's neither here nor there.
The bottom line is that no matter what, these people have earned my respect, which is not something that I give away easily. Anyone who knows me for any more than five minutes will tell you that if I don't like you in that time, I probably will never like you.
And while we're on the subject, I am fully aware that not everyone likes me. And I'm ok with that. But I can sleep soundly at night in the knowledge that no matter what anyone says, my work ethic in the post of Assistant Sports Editor was never lacking.
So my overall advice, if any can be gleaned from this rant, is that in life, you never know when something great will come along. And if something seems like it's worth taking a chance on, do it.
Only good can come of it. And if it's not good, at least it'll be fun.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
On The Moon
Before anyone gets too excited, no, I have not relocated to that shiny round orb in the sky that we call the moon.
Instead, as I was sitting on my front stoop this evening, in a creepy, but not too creepy manner, enjoying this cool and windy night, I was at once overwhelmed by the calmness that enveloped me.
I'm a pretty intense guy, this is no secret. I'm an in-your-face, take no prisoners type of dude. In other words, at times, there's no living with me.
My famous "beach runs," and long drives in the car are normally what calm me down when the world seems too hectic. But sitting under the moon tonight was eye opening in a way that only a late night staring contest with an enormous semi-circle can be.
The downside to this discovery however, it that it's mid-November and sitting outside in New York weather is soon going to be quite prohibitive. In fact, it should have been that way weeks ago, but due to that glorious concept of global warming, it's still, like 60 degrees outside.
Take that Mother Nature!
Or maybe I can blame it on the economy. Or the terrorists.
Whatever the reason, I'll take the calm while I still can. Because before long, I'll be back to complaining about the stupidity of life and/or the other existential crises that I encounter on a daily basis.
Instead, as I was sitting on my front stoop this evening, in a creepy, but not too creepy manner, enjoying this cool and windy night, I was at once overwhelmed by the calmness that enveloped me.
I'm a pretty intense guy, this is no secret. I'm an in-your-face, take no prisoners type of dude. In other words, at times, there's no living with me.
My famous "beach runs," and long drives in the car are normally what calm me down when the world seems too hectic. But sitting under the moon tonight was eye opening in a way that only a late night staring contest with an enormous semi-circle can be.
The downside to this discovery however, it that it's mid-November and sitting outside in New York weather is soon going to be quite prohibitive. In fact, it should have been that way weeks ago, but due to that glorious concept of global warming, it's still, like 60 degrees outside.
Take that Mother Nature!
Or maybe I can blame it on the economy. Or the terrorists.
Whatever the reason, I'll take the calm while I still can. Because before long, I'll be back to complaining about the stupidity of life and/or the other existential crises that I encounter on a daily basis.
Friday, November 12, 2010
On My Cranium
Caution: What you are about to read will make me sound like a madman. I assure that I have not lost my mind, no matter how this particular blog comes across.
Anyone who knows me can tell you that I do not possess the ability to "shut off my brain." A lot of people can simply block out their thoughts, or pretend to, and just let their own thoughts consume them.
I can't do it. I've never been able to. And I wasn't even one of those kids that people always called a "dreamer." I don't even have a very active imagination.
But here's the thing; it's getting to a critical point. There's a lot of thoughts floating around in this head. And the two concussions (possibly three, but two are documented) that I've sustained in the past year don't help matters either. If anything, they're making things worse. The daily headaches don't help either.
But if anything positive can come of this situation, it's this: I have never felt more creative. Ideas are pouring out of me at a rapid pace. At least three book ideas have taken shape, and are in the works.
I plan on calling on a dear friend if I ever need illustrations. I wish that I could say that it was Jim Davis of Garfield fame, but he won't return my phone calls.
Ok, I haven't even called him.
Anyone who knows me can tell you that I do not possess the ability to "shut off my brain." A lot of people can simply block out their thoughts, or pretend to, and just let their own thoughts consume them.
I can't do it. I've never been able to. And I wasn't even one of those kids that people always called a "dreamer." I don't even have a very active imagination.
But here's the thing; it's getting to a critical point. There's a lot of thoughts floating around in this head. And the two concussions (possibly three, but two are documented) that I've sustained in the past year don't help matters either. If anything, they're making things worse. The daily headaches don't help either.
But if anything positive can come of this situation, it's this: I have never felt more creative. Ideas are pouring out of me at a rapid pace. At least three book ideas have taken shape, and are in the works.
I plan on calling on a dear friend if I ever need illustrations. I wish that I could say that it was Jim Davis of Garfield fame, but he won't return my phone calls.
Ok, I haven't even called him.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
On The Works Of Stieg Larsson
I have never been much of a book critic.
Sure, I have incredibly strong opinions about practically everything in life, but I never really pontificate about books. Mainly because, well, most people don't even read them anymore.
So it is with great enthusiasm that I recommend to you, my reader, the complete Girl With The Dragon Tattoo series, also known as The Millennium Trilogy, penned by the late Stieg Larsson.
Granted I'm only halfway through the second book in the trilogy, but I'm loving my life thus far.
Maybe it's just the feeling of thinking I'm a detective trying to figure out a mystery. Because in all honesty, Shaggy and Scooby have nothing on this guy.
A small warming though, the books are very wordy. They're also incredibly descriptive, and can be repetitive. But seeing as Larsson wrote these books mainly for his own pleasure, and not for the mass market, I guess I can't really complain.
Also, the repetition is good for someone with as limited an attention span as me.
Don't get me wrong, I love to read. Anyone who knows anything about me will tell you that. The issue in my case is that I will give up on a book after as little as five pages if the text doesn't grab me.
I made it three pages into The Catcher in the Rye the first time that I tried to read it. I have read it three times since and it's in now one of my all time favorites.
These Larsson books start very slow, but I sluggishly plowed through the first book simply based on speculation.
I was not disappointed in the slightest.
However, the second book moves in roughly the same manor, and about 300 pages in, finally picks up. Be patient, it's worth it. And again, that's coming from me, the master of the short attention span.
I'm also told that the film versions (the Swedish ones) of these books are pretty incredible as well.
I guess we all know what my impending Netflix deliveries will contain. Well, that and Leprechaun in the Hood.
Guilty pleasures never go away.
Sure, I have incredibly strong opinions about practically everything in life, but I never really pontificate about books. Mainly because, well, most people don't even read them anymore.
So it is with great enthusiasm that I recommend to you, my reader, the complete Girl With The Dragon Tattoo series, also known as The Millennium Trilogy, penned by the late Stieg Larsson.
Granted I'm only halfway through the second book in the trilogy, but I'm loving my life thus far.
Maybe it's just the feeling of thinking I'm a detective trying to figure out a mystery. Because in all honesty, Shaggy and Scooby have nothing on this guy.
A small warming though, the books are very wordy. They're also incredibly descriptive, and can be repetitive. But seeing as Larsson wrote these books mainly for his own pleasure, and not for the mass market, I guess I can't really complain.
Also, the repetition is good for someone with as limited an attention span as me.
Don't get me wrong, I love to read. Anyone who knows anything about me will tell you that. The issue in my case is that I will give up on a book after as little as five pages if the text doesn't grab me.
I made it three pages into The Catcher in the Rye the first time that I tried to read it. I have read it three times since and it's in now one of my all time favorites.
These Larsson books start very slow, but I sluggishly plowed through the first book simply based on speculation.
I was not disappointed in the slightest.
However, the second book moves in roughly the same manor, and about 300 pages in, finally picks up. Be patient, it's worth it. And again, that's coming from me, the master of the short attention span.
I'm also told that the film versions (the Swedish ones) of these books are pretty incredible as well.
I guess we all know what my impending Netflix deliveries will contain. Well, that and Leprechaun in the Hood.
Guilty pleasures never go away.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
On What I Perceive As A Great Question
There are some things in life that are great ideas.
Offhand I can think of mixed drinks, Mexican cuisine and the overall catalog of Kevin Smith films.
Then again, there are fiercely terrible ideas.
Anything involving Jagermeister would be included in this category.
Normally, I would include sequels in this group as well, but ever since I got the idea about a week ago, I've been consumed by this question:
What happened after Willy Wonka gave Charlie the chocolate factory?
I intend to answer that question.
Offhand I can think of mixed drinks, Mexican cuisine and the overall catalog of Kevin Smith films.
Then again, there are fiercely terrible ideas.
Anything involving Jagermeister would be included in this category.
Normally, I would include sequels in this group as well, but ever since I got the idea about a week ago, I've been consumed by this question:
What happened after Willy Wonka gave Charlie the chocolate factory?
I intend to answer that question.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
On Random Musings
Today was a rough day.
The daily grind is messing with my head, which is fine. But I've become moody and somewhat stand-offish, and that is not fine. I had the time to actually write today and what followed can only be described as short, but heartfelt drivel.
I admit that a lot of this will sound sappy, which is kind of against my nature, but take it for what it's worth:
-There are really only six ways to say "I'm Sorry":
1. I was wrong.
2. You were right.
3. You are everything to me.
4. Maybe, perchance, I was not right this time.
5. I would be nothing with out you.
6. I love you.
-The heart of a hopeless romantic is just that; hopeless. It withers and dies without a counterpart. Sometimes being hopeless together is the only kind of hope that there is.
-Mistakes are meant to be made. Without them, there would be no reason to become a better person. No one is perfect, but the mistakes are there to be corrected. It gives life a reason.
-It is impossible to be perfect, but the biggest imperfection that a person can have is believing that they are, in fact, perfect.
-Depending on the moment, "insecurity" can be the most alluring trait a person can have. It also can be a beautiful word, given the right circumstances.
-Without take, there can be no give (and yes, I realize how fucking stupid that sounds).
- Some people get by simply on beauty or charm. Others rely on hatred or self loathing. The key to life is a happy medium between the two. A true "meet in the middle" relationship.
At this point, the "inspiration" was lost. But I get the feeling that it won't be far away from now on. Something changed today. Something clicked. I once again feel like I can be entertaining. And I say that despite the fact that most of what I have just written was sanctimonious bullshit.
It happens to us all.
Even the great ones had an off day.
The daily grind is messing with my head, which is fine. But I've become moody and somewhat stand-offish, and that is not fine. I had the time to actually write today and what followed can only be described as short, but heartfelt drivel.
I admit that a lot of this will sound sappy, which is kind of against my nature, but take it for what it's worth:
-There are really only six ways to say "I'm Sorry":
1. I was wrong.
2. You were right.
3. You are everything to me.
4. Maybe, perchance, I was not right this time.
5. I would be nothing with out you.
6. I love you.
-The heart of a hopeless romantic is just that; hopeless. It withers and dies without a counterpart. Sometimes being hopeless together is the only kind of hope that there is.
-Mistakes are meant to be made. Without them, there would be no reason to become a better person. No one is perfect, but the mistakes are there to be corrected. It gives life a reason.
-It is impossible to be perfect, but the biggest imperfection that a person can have is believing that they are, in fact, perfect.
-Depending on the moment, "insecurity" can be the most alluring trait a person can have. It also can be a beautiful word, given the right circumstances.
-Without take, there can be no give (and yes, I realize how fucking stupid that sounds).
- Some people get by simply on beauty or charm. Others rely on hatred or self loathing. The key to life is a happy medium between the two. A true "meet in the middle" relationship.
At this point, the "inspiration" was lost. But I get the feeling that it won't be far away from now on. Something changed today. Something clicked. I once again feel like I can be entertaining. And I say that despite the fact that most of what I have just written was sanctimonious bullshit.
It happens to us all.
Even the great ones had an off day.
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