I am small

Today I felt teeny tiny as I traveled down an Alice In Wonderland rabbit hole of blogs. I mean, there must be a billion million trillion blogs on the internet. Blogs about love, blogs about animals, blogs about people loosing weight, wedding blogs, boring baby blogs, job blogs, music blogs, real estate blogs, TV blogs, movie blogs,food blogs, joke blogs, pet blogs, famous people blogs, how to screw in a light bulb blogs, etc, etc, etc... Pretty much, if you have a computer and the capacity to write, you can blog.

Before now, I existed in small self prominent world, where only I (and maybe Bekah too) blog.

I would like to believe that I am one of few who blog, that I am special because I blog. But I am not. I am one in... a lot... and who really cares what I have to say?

Well, I do...I care....And I will blog for me. And, the 7 other people who read it.

I'm trying to remember...

It's weird how sometimes we just remember random things and other times we just can't seem to remember anything. What controls what is in our immediate conscious? And, how can we just remember something without even knowing that we want to remember it? And, why is it that when you specifically try to remember something, all the focus of trying to remember it causes you to not remember the thing you were trying to remember? REMEMBER!

Date Night!

Starring Jason Roberts and Blaine Barbee...

I never thought the time would come when we would actually have to schedule time to hang out with each other. Bleck! But we do, and we did. As busy as we've both been, a date night was in order. Lots of wine and a gluttonous dinner. And a reminder that we are now old, as a young college student entered the Wine Bar, saw just us inside at 5:30 on a Thursday and promptly turned around to exit.

And then I turned Jason into a marionette and took this photograph.

volleyball...part 2

Not so bad after all, Barbinator. Servin' it up!

sentient beings

Just for me?

My Bekah is a good Bekah. She writes plays and things, and wrote me my own custom monologue (after I harassed her into it, of course). She is wonderful and will simultaneously cut into your soul while making you laugh your ass off, after only having made you answer a few simple questions. Order yours today!

She has a blog too, which is far superior to mine. Read it and lover her like I do.

Now, I must practice my monologue and perform it for Edie and Viktor.

Change as the death of a little self

We are afraid of change because we are afraid of killing a small part of ourselves. A little self ( I like to imagine it as a mini me Blaine) goes away and may never return. We have many associations with this concept. We might say: its the closing of a chapter, the beginning of a new chapter, the end of an era, the dawn of a new day, one door opening and another one closing. And this is why we fear- it is finite, the end of something. And thus, the death of a little self.