bears eat wolves for breakfast

I love social networking, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, and storytelling. Oh, and sex.
i love
her smile
her eyes
her laugh
her mind
her heart
i love her

i love

her smile

her eyes

her laugh

her mind

her heart

i love her

letters to my friends #2.1

Dear friends of the round table,

I’m a friendly person, at least I can be. I like to think of myself as such, as a person who can be thought of as a friend. I’d like to think even more so that you consider a dear and treasured friend. That’s what I’ve been called many of you in the past, especially around the times of celebrating something, whether that be a wedding, a birth, a new car, a new relationship, or a new year of to celebrate life on Earth. Our years are short, even if we all made it to 100+. Age doesn’t slow time, that’s for sure. Within these years I have on this planet, which right now is only a variable x since none of us know when the last day will come, I want to spend most of them doing whatever I want to do. At the top of that list of things I wanna do, spending time w/ you is tops.

But a great many things have happened since…hmm, hard to say. Hard to say when it all started. Perhaps it was when I joined DG, or maybe it was before, or maybe it was after. I know myself to be a busy person these days so time does elude me. Just recently, I saw an all-time great friend for the first time in a year even though it’d only felt like yesterday. Point is, I know I’ve been scarce, elusive, almost invisible to the social eye. But the fact remains that I don’t think any less of you because I see you less, talk to you less, end up not being there as much I’d been in the past. It’s the reason why the great lot of you were invited to Chicago. 20 invited…2 came. Some would say 10% attendance to a party is a pretty raw deal, even with circumstances like lack of funds, bills, illness, commitments, and all of these things I was told just before departure to the Windy City as to why the great lot of you couldn’t go. These all sound like things beyond your control, and I’ve been there. I missed a beach wedding some years ago because of the same circumstances (but in the end, the marriage didn’t last long so the only real bummer in that is missing out on a beach house experience with great friends, both bride & groom). But that wedding still had all the guests it needed to be what sounded like an epic time. That’s not to say I didn’t have a great time in Chicago for my milestone 30th birthday—I did! And yet, it ended up not being the weekend I’d envisioned.

What it really boils down to is that I woke up the morning I traversed to Chicago with the realization that I was really hurt by your absences. You see, in the end, out of the invitees that didn’t come to Chicago, only 3 people had the decency to tell me they couldn’t go. I didn’t even hear from the rest of you, even after reaching out. Correction—when I did reach out individually, I got rousing approvals and affirmations…until the week before departure. Then the tunes changed. I get it—traveling to Chicago is not the cheapest plan in the book. It’d be kind of rude of me to sit here and get mad if I sprung such a trip on you. But I’d made it very clear in 2012 that this was the plan—Chicago, March, 2014. But I suppose in the noise that is our lives, that kind of long distance plan can get washed out.

However, the truth of the matter is that the feeling I’ve come away with from this is that the plan for many was never to go. Fuck you, Rocky. What should I expect? Perhaps I think too much of yourself. I mean, these people had the decency to reach out to you, minus those that need fucking personal space for whatever dumb reason I can’t fathom. Nevertheless, it won’t change how I felt when I turned 30. There was a little fanfare. No cake, no cards. The clock struck 12:00 AM, and I drank my shitty beer. Perhaps parties are for retirees, bachelors and bachelorettes, and double-digit anniversaries at this stage. I can live w/ that. But I thought friendship was supposed to stay the same, if not get better at this point. We’ve weeded out the cliques, friends by locker proximity, and friends forged by Greek letters. But in reality, it’s all a cycle. My only hope is that when the time comes for support, love, and celebration, I won’t let you down too.

Working hard for something we don’t care about is called stress; working hard for something we love is called passion.

—Simon Sinek  (via allthingssoulful)

Man oh man oh man!!!! Truest words of life.

(Source: psych-facts, via petyagencheva)

The 2013 Rocky Awards are real

And they’ll be coming very soon.

Nominees to come sooner. My blog will pretty much be nothing but Rocky Awards stuff for the next several posts.

Josh Rouse is good musical evening tea.

Good to have you, blubug

blubug:

Sorry. I like these things lol 

The feeling’s more than mutual, my dear.

blubug:

Sorry. I like these things lol

The feeling’s more than mutual, my dear.

this is new

This has never really happened before. I’m in uncharted waters, unsure of what is beyond the horizon, no compass to satisfying guide me from falling astray. This is improv, what I do, but this comes without applause. The scene isn’t called to end at the end of one resolution. Instead, this is life, and I’m experiencing all new things even still here in December of what has become a remarkable year for one particular bear.

I can take the time to complain/whine about the dry spell I’ve had with women, but let’s face it—it was completely & utterly necessary. Choosing to take the time to refresh my life alone in 2012 was necessary, as that time allowed me to really devote a lot of energy into something that gave me great joy, which was being a part of Damaged Goods. My three years in Damaged Goods have been nothing short of fascinating, and in the last 400 or some odd days, this group is inches away of being the rock star group we want to be. It’s taken a lot of energy and effort to be as successful as we’ve been in 2013 with our rebranding, our website launch (shameless plug: www.damgoodnation.com), and our travels. We really couldn’t ask for more.

Nevertheless, I spent a good portion of 2012 and 2013 wondering if perhaps a part of me was comatose. I found it very difficult to find interest in women for more than perhaps a day or two, immediately finding myself awash with the thought that a relationship was not what I perhaps needed. Truth of the matter is that I was simply tired of letdowns. Letdown after letdown after letdown just turned me a little bitter toward dating and relationships, at least if I was involved. My writing got better, as I’ve noticed I create some great fiction when I bummed about being a lonely guy. I guess it’s easier to ignore this world and slip into a story I’m trying to print on screen.

At some point, however, something told me to just really make an effort to rid myself of bitter feelings. Maturity? Perhaps. Maybe it was just how so many things in my life started blowing up, in a good way. Maybe it was going to Chicago and feeling a level of confidence in my craft that I’ve never felt about anything else before, not even hoisting up trophies on the playing fields of my youth.The lesson I learned in Chicago in April was that there’s no ceiling on success and no ceiling on happiness. You can always continue to climb in both of these aspects and climb as much as you allow yourself. It was an amazing lesson to take back home, because from that point on, things have been simply incredible all year. I traveled this country to perform and steal the show in Detroit, Chicago, St. Louis, Bowling Green, and Nashville, plus some others I can’t remember right now because we’ve been so busy!! I watched Louisville cut down the nets in basketball, something my dad has always talked about witnessing with great adoration. I returned to Ireland & London, places that had profound impacts on my life that have shaped me into who I am today.

However, let’s be honest—despite all that, I’m here to talk about what’s happened since I returned from Ireland. I “hosted” (told everybody where to meet and that’s about it) a dinner with friends that I missed dearly while I was away. Among them was this girl that I had a present for. I didn’t hesitate to get her a gift; we’d be spending quite a bit of time together this year in a friendly capacity. A good time was always to be had. She seemed to appreciate the gift in a most grateful manner, offering a hug, making eye contact with me with a great big smile. I’d come to get familiar with all of these three things—her hugs, her eyes, her smile—in time. But that night, after briefly parting ways due to improv engagements, she said she was at a bar, having a drink. Despite my fatigue I decided to join her. I wanted to talk to Bo, as I like to call her, for a spell. What I came to realize very quickly was that I was surprisingly fond of Bo, surprising only because of that whole aforementioned thing about me thinking my heart was comatose. And yet, here was something new I was feeling.

She had me figured out when I asked her to breakfast the night after celebrating her birthday the following week. I didn’t have that much to drink that night, at least not three sheets to the wind. But after a night where I’d seen Bo smile her way through a night of celebration that didn’t come without its certain bumps in the road (I fucked up a shoe myself), I couldn’t help but feel as though I didn’t really want to wait until another weekend to see her. What was wrong with the next morning? All that happened was that I had the best first date ever…I just didn’t know if that’s really what it was or not at the time. I didn’t know if I was someone she’d go for. Plus, the idea of dating friends is one that doesn’t come with its pros and cons. You tend to shock people sometimes when you don’t tell them about the idea that I like someone “all of a sudden” that I’ve known for a long time. But no need to fall into that rabbit hole right now though.

After parting ways that Sunday, we got to know each other a little more. Every day. Well, early on there may have been a day or two of space. We played it right. But then after a stammered declaration of liking her in the parking lot of a tasty Italian restaurant, it took off. We talked, shared many laughs, many jokes. We found comfort in each other, an important part of this whole process. Now mind you—I’ve suffered a shitty record with relationships. I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t play my part in my record being as ugly as it is, but I’ve had some dumb situations to deal with. I don’t know why I tolerated what I’ve had to fuck with in the past. I don’t know why it took so long to find someone that lacked an agenda, that could be playful and thoughtful all in the same breath, that actually appreciated what I had to offer. In the past my weight, my skin color, my career choice (in my teens!), etc. have all been things that were under scrutiny heading into a dating relationship. For a while, I was feeling pretty ugly all over. The only people for a long spell to say anything about me being any kind of handsome were random gay men and women that are grandmothers. It didn’t really wash me over with great confidence in myself.

Then there’s Bo, who looks at me in a way that is difficult to articulate except maybe to say that I feel like I am important to someone for the first time in a long, long time. Even more so, as cliche as it may sound, she’s literally a dream girl. Girl has ambition, has mad work ethic, has an incredible sense of humor, a sense of independence that a busy man like myself needs in a woman, and the girl is beautiful. We’ve meshed like I hoped when I first asked her to wear khakis to breakfast. Now I can call her girlfriend. Men may acquire girlfriends every day, but I told myself long ago to not go for someone you didn’t believe in again. Walking into something with doubts means your intuition is telling you something you need to recognize as being a problem that may never go away. But I haven’t had that problem, because Bo is that kinda girl that I’ve been waiting for, the kind that you lose sleep over because you want to spend your waking moments exchanging cheesy pickup lines or having an impromptu rap battle with. She goes at my speed. Or maybe I go at hers.

All in all, my happiness still hasn’t reached its ceiling, but it’s easy to say it’s reached new heights. A lot of factors played into making 2013 the happiest year of my life;

Bo sealed the deal.