Yes, the blog you've all been waiting for has arrived. At last, ten things about Swishiee
Once you're done with that, feel free to wander back here, though I wouldn't encourage you to read the blog itself. It takes some weirdly intimate swerves, truth be told, but then we talk about robots, so I guess things work out. Hey, don't sweat it. Let's just hang out and shoot the breeze.
1. I have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do
Which is the stupidest thing. The stupidest thing
. It's like arming a spatula with a rifle. There is no god damn point to anyone making any effort whatsoever to equip me for combat. If ever forced into a man-to-man confrontation, I will strip off my own pants and hand them over as a trophy before a single menacing glance is thrown my way. I will adorn those trousers with my tears and once a year, I will go over to my opponent's house to polish his fabric monument to my indolence so that it might never fail to catch the eye of those who might visit his abode.
I mean, c'mon, are you kidding me? Jesus.
2. My animal name is "Deer"
This is a fact which has never failed to haunt me. Back in elementary school, we went on this retreat to a Native American lodge and all the kids got animal names like "Dragon Hawk" and "Thunder Eagle Dick Punch," and the jaded lodge employee whose forefather had been a noble king of the land and had bequeathed his sons a crappy getaway program for kids who had to be reminded to blow their noses, this guy, he looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, and proclaimed me "Deer." And in that tired, listless sentence lay the condemnation of the rest of my life.
It was on that trip that I befriended the overweight kid in our class who made fart noises and together, we wandered into the forest and ate some leaves.
3. Listen, sometimes I drink
Last summer, I drank about two six-packs of beer a week which, for a guy doing it alone, in his apartment, wasn't a great decision. I was having trouble getting a hold of happiness. School had ended with some jagged relationships and, for a co-op job, I ended up moving to another city. So, it was me, there, all by myself, trying to figure out how to cope and boy, I didn't choose the best way to do it.
That said, I did some really neat things that summer and got to know people I never could have otherwise. Looking back, it ended up being one of the best experiences of my life and I don't regret that time for a moment. It also ended up being the point in my life where I was most online, doing FNFs and whatnot, and that culminated in PAX, so, all things considered, I'm more liable to brag about that time than I am bemoan it. It's a nice light-at-the-end- or, hell, light-all-through-the-tunnel thing that, if nothing else, helped me snag that happiness.
4. I've started collecting bottle caps
I've taken to stowing the cap of any beer I open in my back pocket. This started as an anchoring thing, a physical check to keep me grounded, but it's moved into something more full of good. These days, when my pocket jangles on the long walk home, it's because I've spent the night in good company. So, we've got that, you and I.
5. I once spent the day running around the city in a dress
And god damn, did I look good doing it.
6. I am afraid of supermarkets
As time progresses, I find myself growing less and less able to enter grocery stores. Like running water to a vampire, the automatic doors to that air-conditioned hell are a barrier of potent nega-energy. For whatever reason, as I walk through the place, an all-consuming existential despair rises torrent-like through my lungs and I find myself like a fish gasping for the crisp, sweet hydration that is literally anywhere else on earth.
I can't quite pin down what this is. I've never been good with crowds, admittedly, so there's that. It's also terrifying to think of, how do I explain this, how the stuffs around me are propelling lives forward? Like, that discount box of tater tots over there, that's going to be some guy's dinner. He's going to eat that, watch some Inuyasha and think about that girl from highschool who's married now.
So, at this point, I either starve to death or learn to forage on a diet of pine cones and pavement-dťcor bubblegum.
7. I'm on my last roll of toilet paper
Carrying on that theme, I'm down to the last precious toilet marshmallow and the pressure is on.
8. I don't know how to deal with death
I think that's how I want to say it, but I'm going to throw a question mark in here to illustrate that I have no dang idea? One of my grandfathers passed away a few weeks ago and, well, that's it. I'm pretty sure I should be missing him, but by the time I was out of diapers and able to confront him as anything more than the man who handed out cheap candy and crisp bills, he was, mentally, on the up and out.
I can say that I respect him. He worked his way up from meagre beginnings, earning his medical degree on the strength of his mind alone. That's an inspiration, certainly. On the other hand, I don't think he was a good father. Myself, I barely knew the man, but his children, my mother among them, have their share of resent, though I've never eked out the full story. In that light, maybe the tokens of my respect are rightly counterfeit?
Anyway. This is the first family death I've ever had to deal with and I'm not sure what it says about me that I can barely muster emotion about it one way or another.
9. I'm bad at arts and crafts
The last time I asked a girl out, well, the second
time I asked that girl out, I was thinking of this time about a year earlier where we'd been walking along the beach and she mentioned how she'd love to build a tree fort there. For whatever reason, this stuck with me.
With that in mind, I decided to try something special. By way of some frantic papercraft, I built this tree and put a tiny origami house in its branches. Inside the house, I out a note about how gee, wouldn't it be swell if we went out some time? Now, my intention was to surround the tree with a beach, so I put this in a plastic container. And then, of course, I needed an ocean, so I engineering this tiny pool thing in the container. Almost good to go.
Big night comes along, and I just need to put the final touches together. After class, which is about six or seven at night, I run down to the beach by the university where we went on that walk. I scoop up enough sand to fill the container, then transfer some ocean water into the pool using my water bottle. At this point, everything looks great.
I start walking back and immediately stumble. The water from the pool spills out and soaks the paper tree, toppling it instantly. The whole thing is a mushy mess in seconds. Crestfallen, I walk back up to her place, mess in hand.
I knock on the door and she answers. Sheepishly, I present the monstrous masterpiece and we just, what can you do, we laughed until our faces were red.
That was a good moment.
10. I am a whore for cheap plastic
Some days, when I'm feeling whimsical, I'll bring one of my Transformer action figures out gallivanting with me. There is, I convince myself, an understated cool
to a man unafraid to play with a cheap plastic toy and make bweep-bwoop
noises to the beat of the crappy techno music stirring his party compatriots as he turns the damn thing into a truck. I'll say this, if nothing else, you make a few friends.
Anyway, one night, a lady friend and I got to bonding over our shared being pissed off at a mutual acquaintance which is, y'know, how most healthy relationships start. Before our evening got too casual, however, I realized that, for some big, adult reasons, we didn't have much of a future together and, responsibly, I made that clear. At this point, in a flirtatious gambit, the harpy absconded with my Transformer.
Well, tits. I'm a complacent man, but you don't dick around with a guy's Transformers. Action had to be taken.
Long story short, over the course of some make-outs, I reclaimed my Transformer, if not my dignity.