Living a Dream

Roughly 100% of what I've seen from the internet this week has been bad news. I don't want to contribute to that flux. Chin up, world, we can't all be that bad. The fact that a lot of people are angry and protesting and showing that they actually give a shit shows that, well, people are angry and protesting and showing that they actually give a shit. Giving a shit is a great thing. Continue. Fight the fights that deserve to be fought. Being 4000 miles away from the US is weird, especially when I'm reading about the states all the time and what's going on there. I don't really want to write about the things I'm reading because everyone has, so I'll trust you (people who are so obscenely smart as to read things that *I* write) to make informed opinions about life and try not to generalize everyone and everything. Three things have happened to me that were really note-worthy this week and I'm gonna tell you about them now. Number 1: Someone asked ...

As someone who goes into people's homes and does homework help and things like that, I guess I have a certain responsibility to be, you know, a good person. In most cases, this has gone swimmingly. In my short time teaching, I've been invited to Switzerland twice, I've been offered more food and drink than you can imagine, I've been given suggestions of vacations, I've been congratulated, hugged, kissed (the cheek-things that they do in Europe), and high-fived. I've been laughed at and laughed with. I've generally been pretty OK at this job. Last week I made a tactical error. I scared the living crap out of my student. I help him with his writing assignments, and last week's assignment was to write a short story about basically anything. He was given a few genres and we decided that crime stories would be too hard to write in 250 words, so we kicked around maybe a ghost story or a horror story. We played around with ideas and thought about how to...

Nobody. You're all losers. Including me, so I guess we're all losers...because there's strength in numbers. If you didn't see, I decided to let Facebook comments decide what this post would be about, which was totally idiotic because of the people I choose to associate with (love ya, friends). As such, I have a nice little reservoir of things that I could pick from. What's weird is that the one that compelled me the most was Coe (that's @number1 coe on twitter, b/c I'm going cross-platform here) saying "u cant write." I'm a sucker for a challenge, or at least a really introspective writing sesh , but I do enough of that boring crap the rest of the time, so this one'll be different. To address the other suggestions; Ryan suggesting I write about my niece was a good thought, I love her to a crazy extent, but it'd just be mushy and uninteresting (to some...I'll probably do it soon though). Hamsterdance .com played an integral part ...

Baby, don't hurt me . Sorry about that. This entry should really fall under the "makes you wonder" category and thus the other blog, but it's something that I've been thinking about since moving to Chicago, so it stays here - as this is the Chicago/entertainment world/whatever it is blog. I was on the bus home from the first time I've ever done improv on a stage in front of people who weren't my classmates (went alright, more nerve wracking than I expected) and I got to thinking. Over the last month or so I've had to say goodbye to an awful lot of people. Not permanent goodbyes, thankfully, as I think I've done a pretty good job keeping up with most of them. These people are my closest friends and family and they mean the world to me. So when I tell these people that I love them, it comes as no surprise. They say it back in most cases, and we go on our way. But we never stop and try to articulate it. There were at least two people who I had planne...

Someone asked me today: if my life were made into a movie, would I watch it? HELL YES, I WOULD. Upon answering so emphatically, she called me out for being cocky. Here is my extended answer, including teasers, cliff-hangers, and the possible title. I justify my arrogance by saying that if I don't believe in my product, who in the world is going to see it? The movie about me would be executive produced by me, obviously. I have the final say in what goes and what doesn't. If my life were made into a movie, only the most important parts would make it...it would be like a 23 year highlight reel crammed into 2 hours and 12 minutes (any longer and I'm risking a major walk-out-to-pee-and-miss-the-important-stuff crowd reaction). For the meaty part, think about all the great things this movie would have! It would feature sports, love, friendships, hardships, heartbreaks, family bonds, and most importantly...frontal male nudity. Name one thing from that list that doesn't appear ...