2005-03-22 - 1:00 a.m.

Actually, when it all comes down to it, for all my brooding, I'm a pretty good guy.

Seriously. I'm not too hideous to look at, I'm not too paranoid, I can play music, the guitar, can sing a little, I smoke too but I try to be polite about it, I drink too much but at my worst I'm just an embarrassment to myself and that's if anyone notices, I get the bare minimum of exercise, I don't eat poorly, I vote, I read okay books and watch okay movies, and I can understand the hard ones, I can write well enough to string together these sentences, and, not with too many, commas, so it's choppy, like this, or at least so far, I know how to get on a bus, I know how to get around, I have an excellent sense of direction, I donít drive a car, but Iíve figured out how to tailor my pedestrian directions to the people in cars that pull over to stop me to ask, I have a very open mind if we're not talking about something that directly involves something I'm doing, which I think is healthy, and, yeah, I'm pretty healthy when it comes to the mental stuff, I don't throw tantrums, I don't lock myself in my room for days, I'm not cold to people for no reason, I do sing in public when I'm not paying attention, but at least the voices aren't just in my head, I think about my job too much but at least there's lots to think about and I still feel like there's more to learn and I'm getting closer every day, I get paid well enough and at the very least I can say that I appreciate my free time immensely, and, yeah, I should add that after I finished college, I've had a steady job for the past five years, have shown up and worked for so many of those days, am man enough to deal with working, and I haven't lived at my parents' house since the last day of the summer vacation that followed my senior year in high school, but I am close and tight with my family, call my ma once a week, just had my brother up for a pub crawl after he turned 21, call my dad up with grunty man questions that frequently involve units of measurement. I'm not so intensely focused as a result of my undiagnosed but obvious OCD that I can start a new sentence right now,

Hell I can even start a new paragraph, although that comma really does bother me, but that's okay. Another new sentence, and I take care of my things, I must say, I'm no Martha Stewart, but I can cook, but the place is clean, the kitchen inviting and economical, the living room inviting and formal, my room den-like and fun and always inviting, the Roommate's her business but it's where we sleep, and it it is always inviting, to me, I am good to her not always but usually and she too, we have almost everything worked out, it makes sense, we love each other, it's important, I'm happy when she's happy, she has a way of making me upset when she is, and sometimes I'm sick when she's sick, and we have each other always even though we have other people too, and if they went away we'd have each other more but with less gossip.

I can teach, I really can, I can instruct, I can win over an audience, I can speak extemporaneously, I can answer good questions, I can be patient and nurturing with poor ones, I can size a group up and determine and then set a pace, I can lead, I can assess, I can take over in a heartbeat and learn on the job, I can prioritize, I can sniff out the phonies, I can recognize brilliance that few people can see without hand-holding, I can hold hands, I can make decisions, I know what triage is, I know what a tourniquet is, I know when to use both and when there's still hope, I know when it's time to hope again, I wear pink and purple jelly bracelets and I'm also obsessed with baseball and football and can wear pink and purple jelly bracelets and talk to baseball and football fans all named Sully in dive bars about baseball and football without fear, well, some fear, I can't dance but I will, I'm a good photographer but am not photogenic and any good picure of me is a cause for alarm, but I don't hide from cameras just in case, and if I haven't seen myself in the mirror recently, I can view myself as an attractive person when I stop and think about it for a second. Nobody thinks I'm dumb.

If I didn't write this but I was instead reading it I'd probably dismiss it as some townie trying to be deep, which is actually a pretty fair estimate. I'm not a racist, xenophobe, misogynist, or homophobe. I can say that and mean it. I don't think it's funny when white people glorify Chris Rockís you're supposed to do that bit and pass it off as isn't Chris Rock great?. Oh, I am funny, by the way, and I'd estimate my good joke to awkward joke ratio at about 90%, and I know when to shut up, and can shut up for a good long while 'till the hiccupps are over and the sun has come out again. I don't mind mixing metaphors. I learned how to play poker just in case, because not knowing how to do something is only cute once. I know when Iím right and I know when Iím either beaten or powerless--I know when itís time to move on. I don't overhear jokes or witty remarks and pass them off as my own, but I will retell them and attribute. I can tell a mean story (just not here, for some reason), really good stories, tailored to my audience. I have excellent and broad (not a pun) taste in women, I appreciate inner beauty above all things, I can actually say that, and I am capable of having a conversation with a beautiful woman without flirting, although I do flirt well and can stop on a dime.

I have very good manners, and do my best not to critize the manners of others. I try to treat people with kindness and respect, as I would wish to be treated, but I am not a doormat, but I would also like to say that I will play a doormat to determine someone's motives (sneaky!).

I dunno. For all the brooding and complaining I do here, things could be way, way worse. I don't know why I'm always so focused on my problems when things are pretty much going okay. I don't know why I'm so hard on myself when being so hard on myself has done little to make me stop being so hard on myself.

I guess I just like long, long, long walks on the beach.

Listening to: Smiths
Reading: Franzen

The body on the railing - 2005-06-26
I'll put a pebble in my shoe - 2005-04-20
I wanna be a geographist! - 2005-04-13
Shop - 2005-04-05
I can't dance but I will - 2005-03-22
The WeatherPixie