Not sure how you'll feel about this...

I've decided to start saying as a retort, "More like crack-a-lackin' in flavor." When describing some mediocre food.

Things I learned from my most recent dance event.

Here are the rules:
- Get more sleep
- Don't go to a dance, drive through the night, fly home, then go straight to work
- Don't dance on your ankle if it hurts
- Bring thicker pants
- If you're going to go out, go all out
- Do not imitate things you are unsure you can accomplish in public if you don't want me to make fun of you
- Don't hump a brick wall
- Don't buy raw milk cheese and then not eat it
- Enjoy your friends
- Eat a bunch of poutine
- Eat some more poutine
- Explain what poutine is to all your friends

Rule: Enjoy being happy guilt-free

Sometimes you just wanna be happy. At good nice things. Guilt-free. To help with that, here are some of my favorite musical guest performances/self-parodies from Sesame Street.

Rule non-sequitur

Last night I had a very fitful sleep. I kept tossing and turning despite being absolutely exhausted. I woke up in the middle of the night to silence. Until my ears woke up and heard crying. Real crying. Uncontrolled. Muffled only by the floor/ceiling that separated me from my grief-stricken upstairs neighbor.

I can only surmise that her crying is what woke me, and once I got the sound in my head, it was impossible to get it out/stop listening to it/for it. It opened in me a cavernous fear, my youth ricocheting inside it like echoes. My mother would beat me in a rage triggered by some error on my part and then retreat to her room and feel so guilty or angry or disappointed or scared - the cause is still mildly unclear - that she would sob and sob until I went and comforted her.

Upon hearing my upstairs neighbor cry, these thoughts crashed into my consciousness like valuable china in an earthquake:

oh my gosh she's crying
- heart cringe/palpitation -
she's crying pretty hard
what should i do?
what happened? is she ok?
maybe someone died
i should check on her
what if she kills herself?
*should i ring the doorbell? would that be too loud? she might be embarrassed.
what if she is hurt?
what if she hurt herself?
*did he break up with her?
what do i do?
what if she kills herself?
- whole body cringe -

Aside from the starred ones, those were always my thoughts and very real fears when I heard crying from my parents' bedroom. Usually when I went to comfort her, she would be sitting on the floor, her shape made up of soft, broken curves. I would walk over to her and I don't even remember what I would say but pretty soon we would be holding each other and crying.

I remember feeling like we weren't actually comforting each other with our arms but just expressing in the only way that felt genuine how much we couldn't stand our lives. She felt I had ruined her life and I felt she was ruining mine and she felt guilty and I felt guilty but we couldn't stop the ruin because all I did was be born and rebel and all she did was sacrifice everything and blame me for it and basically it was a fire, and what else does a fire do but set other things alight until it has consumed and destroyed completely?

So I realized last night I dislike the sound of muffled crying, especially when I don't know the cause. I woke up this morning exhausted and tense in every muscle. The weather was a gray cliche. But there were no cop cars, flashing lights, stretchers, or anything.

Tonight I hear the tv on upstairs and I hope everything is ok because the next day can be a different day. It does not always have to be the same.

Rule: Check out Esopus Magazine (esopusmag.com).

I love this movie

"as a younger man, I was a sculptor, a painter, and a musician. There was just one problem: I wasn't very good. As a matter of fact, I was dreadful. I finally came to the frustrating conclusion that I had taste and style, but not talent. I knew my limitations. We all have our limitations, Freddy. Fortunately, I discovered that taste and style were commodities that people desired." - Michael Caine as Lawrence Jamieson from Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (1988)

rule: recognize this.

If you thought you hated the Christmas season

Try talking to a personal assistant. Don't get me wrong. My job is awesome and my boss is fun. But if you ever happen to hire a personal assistant for yourself some day, here are some rules for the holiday season:

1.) Either you buy all your Christmas presents for people yourself and deal with the consequences. Do not buy a Christmas present, realize the shipping isn't what you thought it was going to be, then make your assistant run all over town finding a popular but specific item the day of.

2.) Please don't make your assistant go to the mall. Please.

3.) Make sure he/she knows in advance. Like advance advance. Advance does not sound like, "Oh I forgot-" or "CRAP! Can you-" or even "Hey, you know I should probably bring something tomorrow."

4.) Please let your assistant know where you are going for the holidays, when, and what level of contact you want to be with him or her.

5.) You know what's better than giving your assistant a physical present? Giving them time off.

Just a couple of short rules

Rule: Don't be a lazy person; update your blog regularly

Rule: If you feel the desire and need to buy an attractive pair of bright, kelly green pants, do so. Please be sure they fit you.

Rule: Watch Legends, starring a pants-less Tom Cruise

Rule: Do not buy a round of shots if you ran into something trying to get to the bar

Rule: If you are playing laser tag, do not run into an area, get shot in your laser, scream, then run away, leaving your back sensor exposed

Rule: Tell your loved ones how you are feeling; they do care.