Movies are good sometimes.

Just got home from seeing the Dark Knight Rises.  Pretty good.  Not bad.  Could've been a lot worse.  If I heard correctly Nolan and Bale are hanging up the Bat Signal from here on out.  Probably not a bad idea, but why leave it so open ended?  Hathaway makes a good Catwoman.  JGL is the most believable Robin.  Oh well.

But anyways, speaking of stories -- I've got a few I feel like telling.  Fictions mind you.  No gossipy  bullshit or whiny, existential auto biographical narratives.  Nope.  I actually feel like writing a couple stories.  Feels pretty good to have that feeling.  Could it be more than a feeling though... ha ha ?

To be continued...

A tale of 2 Mitts

Last night I had several dreams that involved Mitt Romney. First dream, he was the "cool, rich dad". I was in middle school and partying like Axl Rose. Pretty true to real life, obv. So, after a night of chasing Mr Brownstone I get home around six am realize I gotta get to the 8th grade so Mittdad takes me and my party bud to school. Well, he drops us off several blocks from the school so we can smoke a bowl before the first bell rings. I get to class, see Nadia, sit down next to her, sorta tripping my balls off over the whole thing. My party bud on the other hand is trying to surreptitiously barf into his Blackhawks sweater. That's pretty much the final straw for the teacher. She's kicks us out of class and we bail on the day to head back home and party with The Mittster.

So my second dream about Mitt was sort of a follow up to the first.  I remember waking up (irl) and thinking to myself "I gotta remember this dream, it's hilarious, EVERYONE is going to want to hear about this."  I fall back asleep and immediately begin another Mittround in the ether but this time we're probably in more comfortable and familiar settings for a billionaire republican presidential candidate.  Me and the other Romneys are sitting around an ornate dinner table and the tone of the evening is anything but Axl Rose.  However, I gots to be me, apparently, and I'm picking up where I left off in the last dream.  Father Mitt is none too pleased.  This is catching me off guard.  I remind him how cool he was being in the last dream.  Wrong move I guess.  He puts me in the corner and yells at me and gives me a book on manners I'm supposed to read out loud as the rest of the family eats dinner.

I'd like to think that somewhere, nestled comfortably between the sheets of those two dreams is a metaphor for the political career of the guy who is about to get trounced this November 6th.  Each dream being an example, somehow, of his two major attempts at politicking.  The first dream, obviously, represents somehow, his tenure as the liberal republican governor of Massachusetts.  Dream #2 is his failed attempt at coming off as a conservative to garner the support of the Tea Party for the presidential election.

I'm just going to leave it at that I think.  Best not to ponder these things too hard.

this is what happens during the nba off season

Why I continue to type out these posts on my tablet rather than on my laptop is almost beyond me. Last night I had drunkenness as an excuse. Tonight laziness will have to suffice. PRETTY FUCKING LAZY. Laptop is in the next room. But here I am, and here is convenience. On my lap and in my bed. And that's just how it's going to be tonight. Plus I like the challenge of typing on this touch pad keyboard. So anyhow, I'm still a little jazzed on this idea of becoming a confident person through near will alone. It's something I decided the other night in the park with Nadia. We had just come from a party and decided to take a walk to college green park before we headed back to my place for the evening. I found myself apologizing for basically not being the life of the party. Which was so dumb for a number of reasons, not least of which would've been that she was one of the only people I really knew at the party. And she of course in her usual sweetness told me not to worry, that the people at that party were a little awkward in their own right, and I needn't expect that I would be the social catalyst for the affair. It was her kindness that sort of kicked my ass. What I mean is I KNEW I was being insecure and issuing a needless apology as the words were coming out of my mouth. And maybe i just haven't exhausted her kindness and patience yet, but I don't want to run that risk. Not just for her, but for me. I don't want to rely on this kindness; this wonderful fossil fuel of an emotion. Basically, it's just going to save everyone a lot of time and trouble and second guessing in the long run if this needless insecurity is just given up. Sounds easier said than done, I know. But the idea of invoking this kind of change through choice, through decision alone is incredibly empowering. There's a feeling of control over myself and my destiny that doesn't come with apologies and false modesty. I feel responsible and charged just thinking about it. Which is nice.

Night guys

I've decided I'm going to be doing my best from now on to be a confident person. I figure why not. I'm 31, I've overcome most of the general anxieties someone younger than myself exhibits. I have a decent, steady, well paying job that doesn't require manual labor. In fact, my professional, by and large, consist of maintaining the ability o keep a level head while absorbing shit from people who always have and will be more financially more successful than I. And that's ok. I mean, it's a reality. There's always going to be someone on top. Someone that isn't you. So it's probably not a bad thing to be reminded of it day in and day out. I'm sure though if you looked hard enough at your daily life you'd encounter an essence of the same flavor of inequality. But in most day to day jobs you're not staring directly at paycheck or retirement savings of he guy who just verbally spit in your face. It's weird is all. Money shouldn't be any kind of societal yardstick but it is. And my job requires either forgetting that entirely or knowing it so completely that you love that fact and incorporate it into your very soul. The most hostile and sublime of all takeovers. The complet failure of anarchy. And that's where I'm at. But it's okay. It allows me to decide my own esteem and I've decided I'd be a dick if I didn't carry my head a little bit higher than Im normally accustomed to.