Well in the past six months or so I’ve lost a few lbs (the
chunky look just doesn’t work for me), been on a few dates (just a few but
dammit it’s a start) and wrote a novel titled Maniac Manifesto (it’s a self-realization story about a revealing
journey into a psychotic mind). No big deals.
Don’t worry I have Facebook so I know what’s going in your
life. Oh I almost forgot if you were at the Bengals game on Monday night and
happen to catch the Jumbotron I was up there too. I backed it up on my
unassuming and unaware stepsister (her fiancé was pretty cool with it) and then
did the robot (best dancer in the club). I did all this while showing support
to my favorite underdog; Andrew Hawkins (that means I was rockin’ his jersey
through my public dance routines).
I usually go with a fairly popular Who Dey when selecting my
jersey for the year (at least I don’t paint my face for games, I gave that shit
up in high school man). Palmer, Johnson, Dillon, Houshmandzadeh (championship)
but I’ve been feeling like an underdog this year.
Could it be that I still reside in a converted corn crib covered
in asbestos, mold in the shower, termite damage, leaking house? More than
likely.
Could it be that after a year of searching for a job and
even Oakley’s outlet store says no thank you? Probably.
Could it be I played a summer soccer league and only got
hurt playing a high schooler in pick-up basketball? No idea but that did suck.
Could it be in the past week I’ve lost my credit card (in my
wallet) and my wallet (in the trash truck)? Not really but I still feel real
dumb for those moves.
I mean the list could go on and on but we haven’t talked in
six months and who wants to hear me bitching (although when I should call it
venting because it sounds so much more pleasant). It’s also not like I’m unfamiliar
with getting knocked down, just always looking for a reason to get back up.
Last week my reason was brought to me in a sense.
Despite a bomb ass (if you don’t mind me saying so myself)
book review from the Director of Communications at NAMI I still get no love working
with them. This being the case I try to take it upon myself to get out there
and educate (ok I just like being the center of attention from time to time) people through talking about my BMD. I had
a chance to do this at a Witt freshmen class after the professor asked them to
read some of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
Put me up in the middle of people with their attention and
really no rules (I said the f word, don’t tell their parents) and I take full
advantage. I really enjoy it because the students, usually a few minutes in,
are comfortable enough to ask me just about anything, and it not only helps
them but also me. At the end of the class I met with a student that shares my
fate.
She was an underdog just like me and it rejuvenated me
talking with her. My so called shitty (I guess underdog sounds better) life
didn’t seem to matter anymore. I could relate to her in a way that’s kind of
addicting, in a way that makes me want to do it more.
So I’m back, feeling good and looking not nearly as chunky
(maybe that had something to do with the dates) what more could I ask for?
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
