Thursday, August 30, 2012

beautiful and lost..

This post is being co-brought to you by whatever "Honey Boo Boo" is, and sending reporters into the middle of hurricanes.

The last post I did received some feedback, all positive stuff about how my sharing my struggle with anxiety and depression has helped people, and also how I shouldn't change how I deal with girls.  Thank you to those who wrote me.  I even had a friend who I hadn't heard from in a while send me a message to say he'll always be there if I need him.  Guys don't generally do that, so that meant a lot.  Again, I love hearing feedback from people, so if you are affected by something I say or just find it entertaining (or horrible, whatever), let me know.  The easiest ways are through a Facebook message if you know my name, or send me an email at dmblum33@hotmail.com.

Average-looking smart chicks are sexier than hot-as-hell dumb chicks.  There's not much sexier than someone who you can share a conversation with on several topics and you can tell they're passionate about.  Looks are going to fade.  How you feel when talking to someone should be the main barometer.  Now, I'll be the first to admit that there has to be a physical attraction for there to be a romantic relationship.  Otherwise you're just friends.  But it's lower on the "importance" scale than several other factors.

Along those same lines, I'd like to go on record as saying Olivia Wilde is hotter than Megan Fox, in my opinion.  Of course all of this is just based off of appearances, acting and interviews on late night talk shows.  People may think I'm nuts, because Megan Fox has been voted Sexiest Woman Alive by several magazines.  But to me, Megan Fox seems a bit high on herself and stuck up, and maybe not the sharpest knife on the Christmas tree.  Olivia Wilde seems fun and silly, and she's able to talk about a bunch of different things and sound smart.  That's attractive.  And her eyes are like pools of sex.  That doesn't suck.

Never give up on something you really want. It's difficult to wait but it's more difficult to regret.

Jennifer Nettles has a gorgeous voice.

One of the coolest things you can hear is "I can't stop thinking about you."

Girls, if you tell us that you just got out of the shower, we picture you nekkid.  Also, if you're a complete stranger but look attractive, we do the same thing.  We're visual creatures, us men.

If depression had a sound, it would be me opening a bag of Doritos while watching "To Catch a Predator".

If I were a professional wrestler, my finishing move would be to force my opponent to drink orange juice after brushing his teeth.

I'd rather check my dad's prostate than listen to a half hour of 104.7 KCLD.

Recent quote from a co-worker: "Fuck, I'm not paying for your movie if you're not going to blow me," about a gal he was starting to see.  Oh.

Fuck, marry, kill: me, Channing Tatum, Robert Pattinson.  I do not snore, btw.

Ladies, if you keep chasing guys who don't give a shit about you, you'll end up with a guy who doesn't give a shit about you.  Don't be surprised.  Quit trying to be the one "good enough" to "change" them.



I don't always walk into doors, but when I do, it's because I'm looking at the butt of the hot girl walking by.

Remember Freddie Prinze Jr.?  LOL!

Most people stay mad at their alarm clocks for only a few minutes, but I come home from work and give mine a flying elbow smash from the dresser 10 hours later.

Yoga pants are the push-up bras of butts.

Yesterday, I flexed my bicep at a 65-year old female coworker and asked if it turned her on. 

My dad pronounces "wash" like "warsh" but he fed and clothed me for 18 years, so we'll call it a "warsh". #nailedit #dadslam

I injured my elbow doing jumping jacks last night.  When is the next Olympics?

Went to the Albertville mall with the family on Saturday, Mom's birthday is coming up so we all pooled our cash together to buy her a Coach purse (Dad might have mortgaged the house).  While there, I walked past an attractive blonde girl, and my gaze went from her face to her ring finger, THEN to her boobs.  I have no idea what that means, but it makes me very nervous.  She was probably a Scorpio or Pisces :)  (I'm a Cancer).  You know how much stock I put in Zodiac signs now since I'm the walking poster boy for male Cancer's.. Seriously, click this link, read it and tell me it's not me, for better or worse: http://zodiac-signs-astrology.com/zodiac-signs/cancer.htm



A couple Tweets from a coworker that I found interesting:

"Why do women always date the assholes before they 'settle' with who is actually the best choice anyway?"

"Women like to be put last, beat, cheated on, degraded and disrespected.  Then say 'where are the good guys?' Umm, look elsewhere than jail."

In a few weeks, I'll be shipped off to Denver, CO for work.  If you haven't read this blog for long, read what happens when I travel for work in this post from August 11, 2009: http://www.fluentlysarcastic.blogspot.com/2009/08/anything-but-mine.html


What society thinks an anxiety disorder is: Someone gets uncomfortable in certain situations: public speaking, driving, flying, etc. and it's something that comes and goes and doesn't really affect the day-to-day life.  Take a few deep breaths and everything is fine.

What an anxiety disorder is: There are millions of people who suffer from anxiety disorders, a lot of them have it worse than I do.  But here is what I experience when my anxiety is bad: it is physically uncomfortable to do anything.  Life is not enjoyable.  The only time I feel "normal" is when I'm asleep.  I've found out that most of my tension is stored in my upper back, so it becomes super tight and that causes headaches and pain in my chest.  My left arm and leg will tingle and I'll get dizzy.  My heart will beat so fast, and it will get hard to take full breaths.  I'm also a hypochondriac, so I am CONSTANTLY checking my body unconsciously to see if there's any weird pains.  A headache is a brain tumor, tingling in my arm is a stroke.  I am constantly thinking, my brain never ever turns off.  If I'm bored and alone, that's a bad spot for me to be in, because I think about negative things.  My last post included an episode in February that was pretty bad, and shortly after that I had a bad bout of depression.  I go out to my parents house on Sunday afternoons and eat dinner there, and my parents like to watch "60 Minutes" at 6:00 on Sundays.  I absolutely hate that show.  Almost every story is how other countries are preparing to bomb us, or how sugar now causes cancer, etc.  For someone who is a chronic negative thinker (which is all people with anxiety), that's scary stuff to hear.  Anyway, one particular Sunday night, I was laying on my parents couch trying to nap after dinner, and "60 Minutes" is on.  Of course, another one of their "end of the world" stories comes on or whatever, and my mind is just racing.  This was when I was still off my medication and had been in a couple month stretch of bad anxiety.  I was starting to become depressed, wondering if I'd have to live this way the rest of my life.  And this story on "60 Minutes" just had my mind snowballing in the worst way.  "I hate my job", "I don't have a lot of money", "I've never had a girlfriend, what the fuck is wrong with me?", "all my friends are either married or in a long-term relationship, where do I go to find a good girl for me?", "will the Vikings ever win a Super Bowl while I'm alive?" (kidding, but seriously..?)  You get the idea.  If it was a negative thought, I had it, and I thought there was no escaping it.  Eventually I talked to a good friend of mine who is a physician's assistant, she got me hooked up with a therapist and advised me to go back on medication.  You can go through the anxiety and depression thousands of times, you can know EXACTLY what it is, but each and every time, it's terrifying.  What if this time it's something worse?  What if this time it never goes away?  How can I possibly live like this?  It's so frustrating.  I can't use generalizations because I don't know how the majority of people are, but I imagine most people wake up with a sunny disposition and expect to have a good day, or something to look forward to.  When I wake up, the first thing I do is a mental checklist of how I'm feeling.  It's the first thing on my mind, unless I have a gal that I'm crushing on, then it's probably her.  Then I pray that "today is a good day."  Bad days are horrible, "good" days are spent wondering when the day is going to turn bad.  And that causes anxiety, and that causes the physical symptoms.  It's all intertwined and connected.  These are not exaggerations, or something that I'm saying to get sympathy or to have people look at me differently.  I have happy times, I have hobbies, I have passions, I have dreams, I have love for others.. but there are times that I've gone to bed wondering if I was going to wake up or not.  When I first noticed the physical symptoms in the spring of '06, I had almost stopped eating and became very skinny.  To the point where numerous members of my extended family at a wedding had commented on it.  Here's a picture from that time frame over 6 years ago, sickly skinny:



I recently read an article on Tumblr by a comedian named Rob Delaney, who wrote about his battle with depression.  As he says, the reason I post about my anxiety and depression issues is because it might help people.  It normalizes it and helps people realize that they're not alone.  Not that you want other people to experience the horrible things you experience, but you know that others have gotten through it.  A lot of my issue is that I'll put others happiness before my own.  In life.  At work.  Everywhere.  I'll suffer a little bit if it makes other people happy or makes them like me.  And that isn't healthy all the time.  Anyway, I was affected by his article, I'll post it for you to read:

On Depression & Getting Help

This was originally posted February 26, 2010.

I deal with suicidal, unipolar depression and I take medication daily to treat it. Over the past seven years, I’ve had two episodes that were severe and during which I thought almost exclusively of suicide. I did not eat much and lost weight during these episodes. I couldn’t sleep at all, didn’t even think about sex, and had constant diarrhea. The first thing I did each morning was vomit. My mind played one thought over and over, which was “Kill yourself.” It was also accompanied by a constant, thrumming pain that I felt through my whole body. I describe the physical symptoms because it helps to understand that real depression isn’t just a “mood.” These two episodes were the most difficult experiences of my life, by a wide margin, and I did not know if I would make it through them. To illustrate how horrible it was, being in jail in a wheelchair with four broken limbs after the car accident that prompted me to get sober eight years ago was much, much easier and less painful. That isn’t an exxageration and I hope it helps people understand clinical depression better; I’m saying that I would rather be in jail in a wheelchair with a body that doesn’t work than experience a severe episode of depression.

To clarify the timeline, I got sober eight years ago and my first episode of depression was seven years ago. I had been in talk-therapy with a psychologist for months and was getting used to life without booze. It’s my understanding that it’s not terribly rare for someone in early sobriety to get depressed. I started to exhibit the symptoms I described above and had no idea what was happening. My psychologist urged me to see a psychiatrist, as did my family, among whom alcoholism and depression are old pals, so to speak. Everyone wanted me to go on medication, except me. I felt that it would be “weak” to do so and that I could soldier through and get a handle on it. But everything got worse and it was terrifying. Most of my thoughts were telling me to kill myself and I began fantasizing constantly about suicide. The images of my head being blown apart by a shotgun blast or me swimming out into the ocean until I got tired and drowned played over and over in my head. My whole body hurt, all the time.

Fortunately, a tiny part of me recognized my thought process as “crazy.” I knew that if anyone other than me was describing these symptoms I would lovingly handcuff them and take them to the hospital and help the shit out of them, whether they liked it or not. So I tried very hard to step out of myself and look at the situation with a modicum of objectivity and “imagine” that I was someone who deserved help.

Quite literally I thought, “I don’t think anyone else would shoot me with a shotgun, so maybe, temporarily, I’ll postpone that and try this Lexapro that everyone who knows me is recommending.”
It worked. It wasn’t magical, but it addressed some chemical issues in my brain that allowed me, gradually, to feel better and actually experience my life. I ate again, slept again, got boners when I encountered attractive women, and made normal number twos when I went to the bathroom. I didn’t and don’t feel euphoric all the time or anything. I still get angry, sad, and afraid sometimes. But I also get happy, excited, and horny too. I experience the full range of human emotions, rather than just one horrible one.

Just under eighteen months ago, after a couple of years of both my marriage and my decision to pursue comedy full-time, I experimented with a lower dose of medication and had another episode. It was as bad or worse than the first one, but thankfully I had some idea of how to deal with it. This episode drove home the knowledge that, like alchoholism, depression demands respect and attention. Whether it’s a “good” thing or a “bad” thing, I cannot pretend to know, but it exists and it can kill you dead.

My psychiatrist adjusted my dose and I got feeling better over time. If you know me personally, all this information may surprise you, as I think I generally have a pretty sunny demeanor. For most of my life, I’ve been a happy, optimistic guy. But for whatever reason, I’ve had depression of a serious, life-threatening nature rear its head a couple of times.

The sole reason I’ve written this is so that someone who is depressed or knows someone who is depressed might see it. While great strides have been made in mental health over the years, certain stigmas still exist. I strongly resisted medication at first. But after having been through depression and having had the wonderful good fortune to help a couple of people who’ve been through it, I will say that as hard as it is, IT CAN BE SURVIVED. And after the stabilization process, which can be and often is fucking terrifying, a HAPPY PRODUCTIVE LIFE is possible and statistically likely. Get help. Don’t think. Get help.

http://robdelaney.tumblr.com/post/414007899/on-depression-getting-help


I found a couple pictures of my family that I'd like to share.  They are on Facebook as well, so some of you may have seen them.  But I like to share them because they're the most important people in my life, and I look pretty cute in some of them:


My brother Bryan, me, my sister Nikki, my mom and dad in Duluth. My brother Steve wasn't along on this vacation. He'll be in the next picture.
My brother Steve, Bryan, me and Dad before golfing.
My niece Aubrey and I.  Ignore the hat hair, focus on her blue eyes and matching hat.  One morning she woke me up to say "I like Bon Jovi.  I hate Justin Bieber."  So you know she's a cool cat.


Sometimes I wish I could be an asshole so I could date cool, attractive chicks.  It gets old seeing girls with guys you know are horrible for them, and you wonder why they're together.  Recently someone told me about a couple he knows, where the guy gets abusive when he drinks.  He once pushed her across the yard at a bonfire they were at.  At that point, the girl should say "it's me or the alcohol".  If that's how you act when you drink, don't drink.  If people started telling me that I was an idiot when I drank, or I was abusive or mean-spirited, I'd stop drinking.  It's not that important to me.  Alcohol makes me a few things: happy, more outgoing, and more sexual.  You know, normal things.  I have never been mean or abusive to anyone, except people that were messing with people I cared about.  Then I turn into a different person.  But I'd do that sober.  I remember a specific event as a kid that relates to this in a way.  My sister and I had the typical brother-sister relationship while growing up.  We'd fight over everything.  She and I were downstairs at my parents, arguing about something.  She turned around to walk away, and I hit her as hard as I could with a balled up fist in her back.  It made a loud, hollow sound and she lost her breath.  I'll never forget what she said to me: "you're going to grow up to beat your wife."  That hit me harder than I hit her.  I went to my room, laid down and thought about that.  I vowed to never hit her again, and of course, no other girl.  Heck, I'm to the point where I don't even flirt with girls or hit on them because I'm scared I'll offend them.  I'll only flirt if I'm fairly confident they're into me as well, and even then, I tread lightly.  I can't imagine hurting someone that I "love" and being okay with it, acting like it never happened.
 
I think it's important to surround yourself with people who better your life.  Make you happy.  Make you think.  I think one of the worst mistakes you can make is pushing away someone who has your best interest at heart and is genuine.  Those people are so, so, so hard to find.  Maybe it's because I've been misled and wronged by people I've never expected it from.  People who have called themselves my close friends and claimed to care about my feelings.  Nothing hurts worse than realizing someone you trusted was dishonest with you.  So the people who you can completely trust, they need to be held on to.  It's cliche' but life is too short to spend it unhappy or trying to change someone into a better person.  Find a person who's good already and enjoy the hell out of them, in friendships or romantic relationships.  It's hard for me to understand how some people migrate to those who are clearly bad for them.  Everyone says they value trust in relationships, but then so many people spend time with people they can't trust.  Either they've been hurt so many times that they just think that's how it should go, or they brush it off as a "one time thing".  At this point in our lives, we are who we are, a person just doesn't suddenly change into a prince or princess.  I'm as guilty as everyone else.  I've spent time with people who I knew were bad for me and would likely hurt me, friends told me they were bad for me, so I know it's hard.  Some people are too quick to trust others.  In my case, it takes me a long time to trust someone, but when I do, I fully trust them.  I open up to them and tell them things I usually keep secrets.  If I've done that with you, I've thought you were special.  I don't put many people in that category.  Family, roommate, and a handful of others.  And if you betray that trust, you will have a very, very hard time gaining it back.  I've never been in love (as you know), so the worst pain I have felt to date is being betrayed by "friends".  Sure, I've liked girls, and had most of those "relationships" end quickly and poorly for whatever reasons, and that sucks, because I always throw everything into it and try too quickly to "fall in love" to see what that's like.  I've heard good things.  But one thing that I pride myself on is being a great friend, someone that people can come to for anything without worrying about being judged, or me betraying them.  I don't care what has gone on in anyone's past, if you're nice to me, I'll be nice to you. If I eventually decide that you have good character, I'll help you every chance I can.  I have friends who used to have eating disorders, they've been clinically depressed, they've had terrible breakups, drug or alcohol addictions, divorced parents, abusive boyfriends, cheating girlfriends... I can't relate to any of these things, minus the depression.  But I love helping people and making them see what they're worth, so I let them know that my door is always open.  Your past doesn't define you, and mine doesn't define me.  I used to be an acne-covered geek who wore sweatpants to school and yelled at my sister for drinking in high school.  Now, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone cooler than me, even if I don't believe that.  My parents are still together, I've never experienced love, I've never touched a drug.. but I have a way of putting myself in other people's shoes and empathizing.  If someone I care about is hurting, I hurt, and I think about things to say to them to make it better.  It's always important for me to let people know how I feel, and sometimes that gets me in trouble, because maybe it's too strong or too fast.  But I never want to be in a situation where I have to wonder if people knew how much I cared for them.  I love hearing people say they care for me and listening to me if I need to vent, so I try to be that person for the people I care about.  I like to give them all of the information up front, and they can do what they want with it.  Be with me or turn your back on me.  But if you turn your back, keep walking, and good luck finding someone as genuine as I am.  You will regret it..
 
I've seen this couple walking and holding hands many days on my way to work, and it always makes me smile.  I want that. 

If you want to get inside the head of someone, read the lyrics of songs that they like.  Mine paint me as a (surprise) hopeless romantic.  A few songs that I've been digging lately:
 
Erick Baker "Unbroken Promise"
 
Baby take off your coat
And I’ll loosen my tie
You are far too beautiful
For us to turn off the lights
 
Your December skin
And a trail of our clothes
You can keep your socks on
If your feet are cold
 
Your red wind tongue
My sudden loss of breath
You like the sound of my heartbeat
When you lay your head on my chest
 
But I don’t want to have to ask permission
Give me a chance
It won’t be perfect, just an unbroken promise from
An imperfect man
 
 
Erick Baker "Stay Awhile"
 
I won't be afraid of growing old
If I have you hand to hold
I'm looking for eternity
Will you find it with me
 
Please stay awhile
Show me how to smile
Please stay awhile
 
I am not a great man
But I'll give you all I can
I'll be the lashes on your eyes
Catch every tear that you cry
 
Let's fill this room with empty coffee cups so we don't ever have to go to sleep
Because if I close my eyes I fear tomorrow won't let this day repeat
 
My life's been filled with turned out lights and haunted by the hurt of closing doors
Let's turn the locks and lose the keys because I don't want them open anymore
 
I see you in an antique wedding gown and me slowly walking down the aisle
And won't you be the mother of my child
I can see you every time she smiles
I love your smile
 
So please, stay awhile
Please stay, awhile
 
 
Ron Pope "In My Bones"
 
I thought I saw an angel
Calling me across the yard
She said ‘baby, it’s been real
Now I’m gone’
I should’ve known much better
You can’t tame something that wild
When I asked her if she loved me
She just smiled

But it’s my fault
I don’t care
I can’t hate you if you’re not here
Once you go, never ever turn around
I have sacrificed and I burned
Oh, you gotta live before you learn
And I wanted the truth but sometimes the truth hurts

And my angel with her dirty wings
She used to make me smile
She kept all of her secrets locked inside
In a place I could not reach her
Though I tried with all my might
When I begged for something real she said ‘goodbye’

And it’s my fault
I don’t care
I can’t hate you if you’re not here
Once you go, never ever turn around
I have sacrificed and I burned
Oh, you gotta live before you learn
And I wanted the truth but sometimes the truth hurts

And I am sure it’ll be just fine
If I remember, she wasn’t ever mine
And I am sure it’ll be just fine
If I remember, she wasn’t ever mine

And the truth about the two of us
Is we don’t make no sense
When we made love, our love was just pretend
And now I’m trying to forget her
But I feel her in my bones
And I wonder if she thinks of me at all

But it’s my fault
I don’t care
I can’t hate you if you’re not here
Once you go, never ever turn around
I have sacrificed and I burned
Oh, you gotta live before you learn
And I wanted the truth but sometimes the truth hurts..
 
 
Spent last night at the gym and in the sauna.  Per usual, Cosmo was along for the ride.  "25 Sex Moves He Wishes You'd Do".  A few of my favorites (Nik, you can stop reading).  I'll put some of my own comments in (parentheses):
 
-Push me against the wall, then make me watch while you strip.  Once you're naked, start kissing me all over.  It's a hot build up.. 
 
-Midsex, while you're on top, make your way up to my head and kneel over my face so I can perform oral while you hold onto the bed frame. (note to self: buy bed frame).

-Dare me to get you wet in less than a minute.  Only dirty talk, no touching allowed.  When the time is up, grab my hand and put it between your legs so I can see if I "won". (If your hand is between her legs, you've at least made it to extra innings).

-When I'm giving you oral, put one hand on the back of my head and press me closer to you, and at the same time, push up with your hips.  It lets me know you're into what I'm doing.

-While we're having sex, look down and tell me how much you love seeing me inside you.  It's hot to know you like the visual too.

-During doggie-style, playfully turn around and say something like "Is that as hard as you can go?" Game on. (Wow).

-Lift your skirt, pull your panties to the side and bend over. (This one wins.  It wins everything).



Saturday, August 11, 2012

anonymous blog reaction from "fireflies"..

I received a Facebook message about my "fireflies.." post and liked it so much that I wanted to share it:

"So I read your blog last night at 2 am and as always, enjoyed it. I must say you have a gift with words and really wish you would pursue a career (or paid hobby) in writing of some sort. Your blogs tend to give me the laugh I need at a time I need it, but it also brings some things to light. Your quirky personality makes the "not so funny" comical, but probably to those of us who know you and your quirkiness (is that even a word?). However, I am always left shocked by some of your topics. For instance, I studied the psyche of humans, but nothing you study in psychology will ever have an impact or make sense unless you hear, see or live it first hand. To hear you describe your anxiety and how it affects you is like being smacked with a brick! I, first off, want to say sorry you have to go through those feelings and physical ailments when you definitely don't deserve it. Second, I think you would be amazing at running a support group for anxiety sufferers. Ever thought about it? You might learn something more about it that you could never read about. Also, every time you talk about companionship and what you want/need makes my head spin. Most men your age do not have the maturity to make those standards and hold out for them. Props to you!! The little things you do for a girl will pay off sooner or later, but I sure hope you never get to a point where you settle for less. People deserve to get what they give and damnit, that will make a great find for you someday. She's out there, probably thinking the same way you are. She's the beautiful and quiet lady sitting in the rowdy group of friends that you are too shy to approach and vice versa. We as women are very complex and strange beings. We will leave you blown away and yet confused as hell. For that, I am sorry you have to deal with us, but when you find love, it is like nothing you have ever felt before and all the work you have to do to make it work will be worth it. Just stay away from the mean girls who thinks the world owes them everything...they will kill your need for love and send you running for the hills!

I only intended to write a few words of how much I love your blog, but obviously started rambling. I'm sorry, to an extent. I believe you should hear how much they make people think and laugh at the same time. AWESOME JOB! Looking forward to the next one..."

Friday, August 10, 2012

fireflies..

This post is being co-brought to you by the guy at the urinal Wednesday who gave me the update on his drain problems at home, Bulgarian shot-putters, and the "autosave" feature on Blogger that took last night off, causing me to somehow lose 4 hours of writing..

*in previous posts, I've kinda half-assed the punctuation and capitalization of some words. I guess when I started blogging in 2008, this was going to be something to write a few quick thoughts and be on my way. I've always kept the sloppy theme. Since it's progressed into stories, paragraphs, etc. I feel like I should prove that I can write like an adult and capitalize words when necessary. Hope that's cool. As always, feel free to comment. Either through here, Facebook, text, carrier pigeon, whatever.. Here we go, Take 2..

Almost sent my sister a ";)" instead of a ":)" in an email yesterday. Luckily I caught it or we would have had to move to Kentucky and get married..

Unless I'm going to a wedding, I use my dryer as an iron..

I'd tongue-kiss a homeless woman before I'd buy a cell phone from a mall kiosk..

My favorite part of going to the beach is when I decide that it looks like it might rain and I lay on the couch instead..

Men should need a prescription to wear white jeans..

I think most of us have the whole "your/you're" thing nailed down by now.  If you can tell me the difference between "affect" and "effect", I might marry you immediately.  If you can cook me pancakes.



Big ups to the three-year-old girl pushing her baby brother in a stroller while her mom walked along side them, texting.  Presumably with her next baby daddy.  Keep pumping those kids out, horrible mothers..

Nice try, grapes with seeds in them..

I could watch an attractive girl dance around a room and be content.  Trust me, I've done it.

"I've got this vision of a girl in white, made my decision that it's you alright." - Marc Cohn

For me, folding laundry consists of 17% folding and 83% dancing in my underwear or shadow-boxing to my iPod.  Still single, if you're curious..

If anyone wants a half-full bottle of hot water, I have about 300 in the back of my car..

My favorite part of wedding receptions is deciding that I'll probably never see the bride and groom again and going back to take advantage of the open bar..

I'd punt a hibernating koala bear into a ceiling fan for the Full House DVD box set..

Love is friendship set on fire.

I've had $15 in my checking account since Sunday.  That's just funny by itself..

Overheard: "I'm gonna go downtown, do some Jag Bombs and try to have unprotected sex with any slut that looks my way."  That's a lot of bad ideas in one sentence.  I've never seen the recipe for disaster, but I'm willing to bet three of the ingredients are Jag Bombs, unprotected sex and sluts.. You know the rule though, anytime you can black out and risk becoming a father and/or STD owner while still in college, you have to do it..

Of the few girls who have felt my butt, it's gotten overwhelmingly positive reviews in the surveys I've mailed them afterwards.  No doubt it's from biking into town every summer afternoon to rent WWF VHS tapes when I was little. I knew my obsession with Hulk Hogan would pay off in some way..

Speaking of wrestling, here is a tag team match between my twin sister and I (3-years-old) and my Dad, circa 1986.  From the looks of it in this shot, I hit him in the forehead with a steel folding chair, and while I mugged for the fans/distracted the referee, she delivered the splash from the top rope.  Notice the brand new HD television in the background.

Regret is one of the worst human emotions. Whether it's regret over doing something, or missing the chance at something, it's hard to make regret disappear.

Never underestimate the power of a perfectly-timed text message..

Sometimes, my favorite thing in the world to do is lay in my bed, listen to Pandora and find incredible new music.  Other times, I lay in bed and think.  And think.  And think.. I prefer doing the first one..

Received a great compliment  yesterday: "You are a good person without pretending or trying too hard."  Thanks.  You have porcelain face skin.

I hate when people bitch about minor things that go wrong in their life on a daily basis. Very recently, a high school classmate of mine lost his father to cancer. Another classmate had a mother diagnosed with cancer. A coworker has missed work for months because of breast cancer, and days before her return, she broke her arm in a fall, delaying her return. A close friend of mine recently found out that her and her husband's only way to have a baby is through artificial insemination, which is costly and not always effective. These are the things that it's understandable to get upset about. To cry about. To need to vent about. You got stuck behind a slow car on your way to work today? Leave earlier, shit happens. If things like that make you miserable, I'd hate to see you react to something that's actually life-changing..




On April 17, 2012 at 4:58 p.m., I received a text from a female friend. Here is what ensued:
Her: Can you send me a picture of your abs? We are comparing men..
Me: (send two pictures, no questions asked.  posted below).
Her: You're going to make a good husband. Not even a question as to why haha.
Me: Well there's my next Facebook quote, haha.. I'm just average.
Her: That's not average. Have you seen most of the men out there? They're all fat-bellied, or rapists.
Me: But they're confident. What place did I take?
Her: It's still in progress. So far you're second, but you're getting beat by someone comparable to Adam Levine. He's got a trail of muscle down to his you-know-what.
Her: P.S. I like your Vikings blanket ;)
Me: I'm in second?? Out of how many? Two? :)
Her: About six or so. Not all entries are in yet..

2 out of 6, not bad. Here's what I entered into the "contest":



With the Vikings first preseason game of the year being tonight, I'll share one of my OCD/superstition qualities from when I was younger.  Even if you're not a football fan or follower of the Vikings, you've heard of Randy Moss.  He was a rookie in 1998 when the Vikings went 15-1, shit the bed in the NFC Championship Game and caused me to cry in my best friends bedroom.  When I lived with my parents, I had two Randy Moss posters on my bedroom wall.  In one, he wore a purple jersey, and in the other he wore a white jersey.  My "routine" before the game would be to touch the purple jersey poster if the Vikings were playing at home, and touch the white jersey poster if they were playing on the road.  In pro football, it's customary for teams to wear dark jerseys at home and light jerseys on the road, so don't act like I'm completely crazy here.  This did create some problems though when we played at Dallas or at Washington because those idiots wear white at home, for whatever reason.  So do I touch the purple jersey poster because that's what color we're wearing, or do I touch the white jersey poster because we're playing on the road?  From about 2001-2005, it really didn't matter, because we had things called "Brian Russell", "Denard Walker" and "Ralph Brown" playing defensive back for us.  No matter how many posters I touched, we were going to get our asses kicked.  I've grown out of the poster phase.  Now my game day ritual consists only of carrying my stuffed Vikings football, wearing my Vikings pajama pants if it's cold, and receiving text messages from my brother, saying our safeties "couldn't tackle their way out of a wet paper bag", sprinkled with expletives.  It's okay though, he probably sang in church earlier that morning, he's allowed..

A couple weekends ago was Firefest, a country music concert in my small hometown that happens every July.  In the past, artists like Luke Bryan, Joe Nichols, Trace Adkins, Little Big Town and Emerson Drive have performed at it.  This year Dierks Bentley was the headliner.  Not bad for a town of 3,500 or whatever it is now.  Anyway, before the concert, my sister and I head to my buddy's parents place, where they're all drinking and playing yard games.  We only stay there for a short time, only in part because everyone else there looks like models and we both feel self-conscious.  After eating at the local pizza joint, we headed to the concert.  Most of my time during the first few bands was spent people watching, wondering how a guy that looked like that could be with a girl that looked like that, and drinking something called "Cream Ale."  It's become tradition that someone will talk to me about my blog or Facebook posts at Firefest, and this year was no different.  A high school classmate tapped me on the shoulder and said, "your Facebook posts are hilarious.  The first thing I do when I get home from work is check to see if you wrote anything."  I wasn't even aware she knew I was alive.  So it's cool hearing things like that, I like being entertaining.  Some people probably think I post too much (Nik), and other people tell me that my posts make their day.  If I post too much for your liking, use the "hide from news feed" feature and you don't have to deal with it.  I won't be offended.  I'm not for everyone.  If I see something that I have an opinion on, I tend to share it.  I like to keep people in the loop.  It's who I am. Anyway, eventually I got lubed up enough to start making sarcastic comments to strangers and shake my caboose.  There was a thunderstorm that passed close by before Dierks was set to take the stage, and they actually suspended the concert for a period of time because of the lightning.  After a bit, the storm is far enough away to start the concert back up, and at this point there is a light rain falling.  It was super cool because it was right at dusk with lightning in the distance, and a country music superstar singing to 8,000 people in the middle of a cornfield.  The rain was hard enough to cool you off, but not so hard that it was annoying.  I rarely give myself time to decompress and completely clear my head, so this was one of my favorite nights in recent memory.  I just enjoyed the moment, all senses on overload.  I try to think back to when rain has acted that way.  Staying that light for that long.  I can't remember a time that it has.  Any harder and people would have been miserable, it was just perfect.  Here's a picture of that night from Dierks website:


 
 

I'm not going to get too deep into my anxiety and depression issues, mainly because if you've read my blog for any amount of time, you know the drill.  But around last November, I was feeling good enough to go off my medication (with my doctor's approval and schedule) so I wanted to try.  I've always wanted to get to the point where I wouldn't need medication to help me.  I thought I was there.  I was wrong.  By around Christmas, I was working long hours and not giving myself any time to relax or take care of myself.  Add that to the stress of the holidays and knowing that I wasn't getting any help from medication, and I started snowballing in a bad way.  By February, I was a mess.  I would wake up and dread how I would feel by midday.  I faked my way through work daily (I have never called in sick because of my anxiety).  I began to get headaches and chest pains on a daily basis.  As a hypochondriac, I thought the worst.  Something had to be incredibly wrong with my brain or my heart, or both.  I couldn't sit still even while watching TV.  I needed to move around, be doing something.  I started to get very depressed; how can you feel that uncomfortable in your own skin and not be depressed on some level?  I worried about everything: my health, money, how people perceived me, the future.  I wondered if I would feel that way for the rest of my life.  I wondered how any girl would like me if I couldn't like myself.  I saw most people my age in long-term relationships or married, buying houses, having babies, having great jobs.  I just felt so behind everyone.  In February, I remember one specific night.  I went to a high school basketball game in my hometown, only because it was the last home game for my coach, who was retiring after 43 years of coaching in the same school.  I went alone, but ended up meeting the two guys I shared an apartment with as a freshman in college.  I'm close with both of them, and actually was a groomsman in the wedding of the one who is married.  But the entire night, I barely said a word to them.  I felt bad, the friend who is married had just had a baby a couple months earlier.  I should have asked how everything was going, if he was sleeping, if he was going crazy yet.  But I couldn't.   I was dizzy, I was sweating, my mind was racing with thoughts.  I could barely pay attention to the game, I was that uncomfortable.  My roommate was doing radio for the game, and afterwards, I suggested we go to the local bar.  In a rare event for me, I wanted to drink the anxiety away.  One of my "rules" through all of the pain and suffering is/was to not self-medicate with alcohol, because that can lead down another dark path.  So, if I'm feeling overly-anxious, I don't drink.  But that night I had to, I was so uncomfortable.  It's hard to understand if you haven't been through it.  In my darkest times, I've never contemplated suicide, but there were many times that I wished I weren't alive.  I know that will be hard to read for some people that are close to me, but it's the truth.  Because of them, though, I know I have what I need to get me through it.  My family and a few close friends have been amazing with their support.  Nik especially.  Love that girl, always there.  I can't overstate how real it is though.  It's not "just in their head."  You can't tell them to "relax."  It's an addiction to negative thinking.  It took me 23 years of thinking negatively for it to manifest itself in physical symptoms of anxiety.  It's not going to be fixed overnight.  But I've gone back on medication, and I've seen a therapist, and I'm feeling much better.  Not "cured", by any means, but good enough to function and enjoy life on some level.  It feels good to not have to fake smiles all the time, and it will only get better..




I wanted to write about my mom's stay in the hospital last year and how it affected me, but it's late and I kind of have a "main event" topic that I want to write.  To sum it up, she had a "COPD exacerbation" as a result of smoking for 35 years.  As a mama's boy, and I say that proudly, it killed me to see her in that vulnerable way, struggling to breathe.  But she only did it to herself.  As kids, my sister and I would beg her to stop, and she never did, until she was diagnosed with emphysema and "had to".  For me, it felt like she was choosing cigarettes over us.  Which is why I despise smoking.  The main reason is because the people who love you want to spend as much time with you as they can, and you are willingly taking years off your life.  I try not to harp on people about it, I just wish they would know what kind of things it can do to them, and the effect it has on their loved ones.



When I like a girl, no other girl exists.  Sure, I notice attractive girls, but I'm always thinking back to the "one".  I get one girl in my head and she stays there until she gives me a reason for her not to be there.  I think about her when I wake up.  I think about her when I fall asleep.  Songs remind me about her.  Certain situations remind me of her.  I constantly think of things to do or say to make her happy, and let her know how I feel about her.  A few examples of this: I liked a girl that went to school in Ohio for a while, and I spent a day finding songs that I thought she would like, burned her 5 cd's and mailed them to her.  I gave that same girl a pair of Twins sweatpants for Christmas.  I never dated her, I only wanted to.  Another example, another girl: at one point, she had mentioned what her favorite ice cream at Cold Stone was.  I remembered it (it was elaborate, not like "vanilla with Oreos") and brought it to her one night that I hung out with her.  Again, I never dated her, only hung out with her with the possibility of dating in the future.  Another example with another girl: she would get severe migraines that pretty much would ruin her days.  I have a friend who orders essential oils and uses them for a number of things, so I asked her if anything would help with migraines.  My friend was able to get me a bottle of peppermint oil that is supposed to help with headaches and migraines, and I gave it to the girl I liked.  Same girl: I was invited to her place one night to watch movies, and it was our first time hanging out alone together.  I'm a nervous person as is, and since I really liked her, I wanted it to go well.  But on this night, she was nervous too.  I have a band on my wrist that used to be one of those magnet things that "balance your ions" or whatever, I just think they look cool.  Well, it broke, so now it's just a rubber band, essentially.  Over the course of the night, I would nervously fidget with and tug at it.  It got to the point where she took it from me, and said I couldn't get it back until I left.  But she started to play with it too, and I called her out on it.  Trying to be cute, and to get her something that made her think back to that night, and to think about me, I ordered her the same wristband that I had when I got home that night.  Again, she and I never dated.  That's the kind of things I do.  Hell, I had my mom make a birthday quilt for the girl I lost my virginity to a month after I met her. (Sorry Nik, I know this was supposed to be "sister-friendly", but I lost my virginity a while back.  We never got congratulatory drinks).  Maybe it's overkill or unattractive.  Or maybe that's how it should be? 

I have a few theories as to why I am the way I am with girls.  Maybe it's because I've been burned so often that I feel like I need to go above and beyond to keep them around.  Maybe it's because my "standards" are so "high" that I think I need to do these things to be on the same level as her.  "Look at her.  Look at me.  What about me could she possibly be attracted to, besides my incredible ass?"  Or maybe it's just because I'm a nice guy, and I see the bullshit that most girls have to wade through to get to us.  I see relationships that people stay in because it's "comfortable" and "easy".  To me, that's not enough.  That's too bland.  Yes, I want to be comfortable with a girl.  Yes, I want it to be easy to talk to her and to be around her.  But I want there to be days and nights where she feels like the luckiest girl on the planet to be with me.  I want her to brag to her friends about what I did.   I want her to think about me when she wakes up, falls asleep, hears a song.. But a lot of girls accept less than this.  And that kills me.  I know everyone has heard the line that girls "date the assholes but marry the nice guys" or whatever.  I hate that.  I've had girls from my past come back to me and apologize about how they treated me, or how things ended.  But just because I'm a "nice guy", doesn't mean I'll always be here to shower you with compliments and make you feel good, only so you can go back to the idiots and start the whole cycle over again.  I gave a birthday card to Virginity Stealer Girl along with the quilt (big day for her), in which I wrote some nice stuff, I guess.  Not too long ago, she told me that she still has this card, still reads it, and it still makes her smile.  But you know what?  For years, that card was in a dresser next to the bed where she slept beside douchebag after asshole after Packers fan (hey, why not?)  Yes, I'm a nice guy.  That doesn't mean you can act like my feelings don't matter.  Yes, I want you to be happy.  But I want to be happy too, and being tossed aside time after time kills me.  Maybe I'm too trusting.  I've been misled too many times with the standard "you're the perfect guy" or "you're so sweet", only to have her start texting my roommate in the next room, or completely change personalities overnight without explanation.  That's hard to deal with for anyone, but for someone who thinks in "worst-case scenarios", it's even worse.  What did I do wrong?  What's wrong with me?  How can she change her mind that much?  I hate that.  Be honest.  If you like me, like me.  If you don't, don't.  I hate mind games.  I want to know what they're thinking and why.  I'm overly-analytical, there's no doubt.  But I feel like the more I know about her, the more I can make her happy.  Thinking back, I can remember most of the important things about the girls in my past.  Birthdays, favorite songs, outfits they wore, their families.. I can remember very few girls who showed a genuine interest in my life, my family, things that I like.  Maybe those should have been red flags but when you like someone, it's harder to see the negative things about them.

I just want love. I want someone to tell me they love me.  I've never heard that, except from my family and my roommate after a few rounds of "Drinking Cops".  I want that feeling.  That "no matter what, we're together and that's all we need" feeling.  That's why I try so hard, that's why I put in the effort to show that I care, to go a little above and beyond.  That's why I hate when girls accept less than what they deserve.  You can be a priority to someone.  You don't have to be insulted, or ignored, or pushed aside.  I've seen all these guys who have been in love with a bunch of girls, and couldn't treat any of them right.  I've been in love zero times because I want to do it right and make it unbelievable.  It's hard to put into words.  I'm not saying every relationship will be like this.  I'm not saying I won't fail at love once, or twice, or a dozen times.  I'm certainly not saying I have no faults.  If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you know I have insecurities.  I get moody.  I need to be alone sometimes.  I get jealous.  Not because I don't trust you; I don't trust guys.  I've had "close friends" text girls that they knew I liked.  On my birthday.  While they had a girlfriend.  I want to be different.  I know I'm insecure, but there are two things that I'm confident in:  1. I'm good at expressing my emotions through writing, and 2. I'm a damn good person.  I might get on your nerves.  I might try to be cute too often and in the wrong situations.  It's to see you smile.  It's to brighten your day.  It's to let you know you're appreciated, cared for, thought about, and that you matter..  You'll know where you stand with me.  We'll settle arguments like adults, without screaming.  We'll learn about each others likes and dislikes, quirks, habits, flaws, secrets.. We'll have each others back, trust each other, and you'll never be more loved.  Maybe that's "boring".  I think it's incredible.  And I think it's worth waiting for.