Friday, January 28, 2011

Blogs are Cool

Ok, I am shitty at this whole blogging thing, I admit it.  Any of you who actually follow my blog are in some form, masochists - because I blog once every six months.  That means that you like what you read, yet you're willing to wait until this moron whom you've never met either gets drunk enough to feel confident or self-indulgent enough to write something that he feels is acceptable to post into 'public'.

It's a weird form of arrogance, when you think about it.  I want to post all the time, but I don't think most of my writing is good enough.  So I don't.  Which means when I actually do post, I think it's hot shit.  But I post when I'm drunk, so it usually isn't the case.  Grrr, if you're still following, you're either very loyal, or you have nothing better to do (I so respect both parties, so please don't leave me!).

My new goal is just to write when something strikes me - without reading over it a hundred times and freaking out every time my cursor hovers over the 'Publish Post' button.

So here's my first:  tonight, I had a wild Skype conversation.  It involved life, death, airplane etiquette, butt-fucking, and The Goonies.  Man, I hope I didn't just get flagged by some government agency over that last sentence.  Like in Conspiracy Theory when they tag everyone who reads Catcher in the Rye, cause they probably have three names and are a government assassin?

But the conversation brought to my attention how cool blogs are.  The Skype-ness took place between three people:  my amazing girl (who I met through my blog) and her dear friend (who she met through her blog).  I would have never had this great conversation were it not for the 'blogosphere'.  'V' would not have this great friend, either.  This fact is not lost on me.

So I will get better at this.  If for no other reason than there are fucking cool people out there, if you're just willing to share.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Calgon, Take Me Away......

va·ca·tion (vey-key-shuhn)  -noun-

period of suspension of work, study, or other activity, 
usually used for rest, recreation, or travel

The above definition, while I suppose...technically accurate, doesn’t even begin to describe the state of mind and body that I achieved just 14 days ago.  Complete peace.  Perfect weather.  A complete absence of responsibility.

I don't know that I had ever been on a real adult 'getaway' before.  Sure, I make the trip home to Indiana every Christmas.  And my folks took me to Disney World when I was a kid.  And I once spent a week during Spring Break on a beach in South Padre, drinking 'Aftershock' (remember that shit?), and occasionally exposing myself to random women on a public beach.  But none of this really constitutes R&R, you know what I mean?

So imagine how excited I was when this really cool chick I know invited me on a trip to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.  Five nights, four days at the Westin Resort in Jalisco.  Arrive on a Wednesday night.  Attend a short rehearsal dinner on Friday evening.  Hit the beach for a wedding on Saturday afternoon.  Other than that, my schedule for those four days consisted entirely of a healthy combination of jack and shit.  

I turned off my cell phone for five full days.  I got out of bed at noon.  My existence consisted of moving from the bed in our suite to the beach.  Then from the beach to a chair that sat poolside.  Then from the pool to the jacuzzi on our private balcony.  And finally, getting up from the jacuzzi, taking a moment to put the cap back on the bottle of tequila, and heading back to bed.  

It was a Zen-like experience; despite the fact that I had gotten myself completely engrossed in a book on the flight over, I sat on the beach, and found myself glazing over paragraphs in that same book without really reading them.  I forgot the lyrics to some of my favorite songs as they trickled out of my iPod and into the now empty space between my ears.  My brain chose to settle down for a nice little four day nap; and I was more than happy to tuck it in, kiss it on the cheek, and wish it sweet dreams before turning off the light and leaving the door open just a crack.

But even though my surroundings couldn't have been more tailored toward turning a grown man into a sun-soaked vegetable, I couldn't have reached this perfect state had I not been in the company of someone truly mellow, yet magnificient.  In a sense, I took two vacations - one away from work and responsibility and January - and yet another from my often barbaric bachelor mentality.

It's a funny thing, when you realize what it feels like to be truly content at someone's side.  It doesn't hit you over the head.  But then again, it doesn't exactly creep up on you, either.  As a matter of fact, you don't actually experience it happening at all.  It just exists, as if it was there all the time.  And if you're not careful, despite how euphoric it makes you, it can be taken for granted.  And before you even get wise, it passes you by, leaving only a sad little state of longing.

For me, I couldn't put it into any frame of reference - until I woke up back in my apartment, the morning after arriving back in the States.  In that moment, I realized that I couldn't just walk down to the pool.   I realized that I wasn't going to pick up my board shorts off the floor, yank them over my hips without a shower, and head out to a late brunch.  And worst of all, I realized, as I locked my apartment door from the outside and headed out to work in a really uncomfortable state of business-casual, that her hand wasn't in mine.  And that just didn't feel right.

So while I figure out a way to get V and I back there (or somewhere very similar), take a minute and check out her blog over at *uncorked.  

She can tell the rest of the story*.

*We went on a sunset cruise and walked the marina and attended an Indian-Italian wedding and rocked out to Bollywood music and hung out with amazing people and made friends with a frog and a monkey!

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