Friday, May 18, 2012

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 17


When I graduated from Witt I had zero desire to walk, in fact the real reason I did it was for my parents. Not only had my close group of friends graduated a couple years before me but I was in my fifth year and only took 2 classes the entire year (I wasn’t even considered a part-time student). Oh add in on top of all that the fact that I had already received my job at AT&Tizzle in A-Town a month before and you can see how I was checked out and only thinking about southern belles.

While I wasn’t thrilled with the whole walking during graduation tradition there was one at Witt that I had a particular fondness for (it wasn’t not walking on the seal either, I used to break-dance on that thing; probably the reason it took me so long to graduate) and that was streaking. Of course alcohol played a significant role in my streaking but you’ll have that.

While alcohol was the common variable in my streaking there were two different types of the streaking tradition at Witt I’d like to talk about. The first is the involuntary streak and this for me followed a poor performance on the beer pong table. Unfortunately I was off my game and we got skunked on the table with house rules of streaking. Luckily only half the party knew I was streaking and to be a good sport I stopped and gave them all the Heisman pose as I streaked by the front porch.

The second type of streaking involves the Hollow (despite the fact that it sounds like it is, it's not a mythical place in “Lord of the Rings”) and voluntary action (well I have done some things willfully while drunk but involuntary, anyways). The Hollow is usually filled with Frisbees (“That weasel snagged the B!”), girls laying out in shorts and shirts (kind of defeats the point) and not naked people. Well everyone’s got to streak the Hollow before you graduate so of course I decided to do it twice.

The first time was a dark, cold (Costanza understands me on this one), wet, winter night when I stripped down and streaked the Hollow with a number of good friends. As I was sprinting towards the group I thought what better way to cap off my streak than by a Pete Rose slide. It was pretty awesome and I got at least a 20 foot slide before retreating to my clothes; totally satisfied by my streak. The second time was dry, warm (still blaming the coldness though) and a summer night. I thought once again a Pete Rose head first slide would cap off my streak and bring a memorable moment to all those involved.

It was memorable but for other reasons as I recall I hit the ground with a thud and didn’t slide an inch as everyone started cracking up. I pulled myself off the ground and managed my way back to my clothes thinking the whole time:

“Damn, that wasn’t a good idea. That really wasn’t a good idea.”

I had entirely way too high of expectations with my streaking efforts. I figured since my first streak went so well and I nailed the head first slide into the group the second time would be even better. I mean I was running balls to the wall when I belly flopped to a stop in the middle of the Hollow. I’m a victim of my own expectations at times. It’s been true with my BMD in the past as well from the first week after I was diagnosed up until today.

Instead of taking the time to properly recover from my episodes I always jump back in. I have these expectations that I should be achieving as much or doing as well as I was doing before my episode. I base my expectations off my past and what used to be rather than what I can do now and where I need to go. I’m glad one of my problems is that I am too ambitious but if I’m not careful and get ahead of myself and my expectations too much I’ll probably end up showing my ass again and thinking:

"Damn, that wasn't a good idea. That really wasn't a good idea."

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!


Coming Correct,
d01roK

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