I was really hoping that would look a bit more like a physics term.
There’s something about me: I’m a nerd without the energy or drive required to become a real nerd. I have a great aptitude for science and math, but for some reason, I never did well enough in the sciences to feel like a real nerd.
I’m ambidextrous — evidenced by being equal parts right- and left-brained. Also evidenced by the fact that I write and play guitar right handed, and do almost everything sports-related with my left-hand. Anything else feels clumsy.
This is me, frozen in time. At this exact moment, my hair is darker (and more evenly colored), and about an inch longer. No more facial hair (that light bit of shadow on my chin). Other than that, pretty much identical. But in six months, who knows?
The internet is a great place to become someone different, to be more than you are, to be what you always wanted to be. It’s filled with the trolls and bullies who feel safe behind a screenname and distance. How many blogs actually use real names? Not many, because then Diane would know that you’re in love with her, or James might know how you talk about him when he’s not listening.
But I believe in honesty. This website is linked from any email that I send out from home, and I send a lot of email out — including a lot of business related email. I know full well that, as little as this blog is trafficked, it’s been read by co-workers and potential bosses, girlfriends and exes and people that I barely know. And I’m okay with that.
It encourages me to stay honest. And I mean that on a lot of levels.
Man, I really hate onions — I tell people that I’m allergic, though that’s not *technically* true. If I eat too much onion, I get fairly painful stomach cramps, so I might as well be allergic, but to the best of my knowledge, I’m “allergic” only to some unspecified pollen that rolls out every spring in Birmingham.
I also hate celery, and am not fond of Mayonnaise, tomatoes, eggplant, mushrooms, sour cream, and most of the things that make for really good recipes.
I believe that there are no rules, only expectations. This is much easier than trying to resolve the inherent paradox in the statement, “There are exceptions to every rule.”
If you don’t spot that paradox, let me know, and I’ll expound a bit. But it’s like an omnipotent being creating a rock so big it can’t be lifted.
I am one of the most easy-going people I know. But I have moments of extreme over-reaction to balance that out. And I never know when those will come.
Look — it’s me again. On the left, with the bass. The talented guys in the picture are Eric and Chance, respectively the guitarist and the drummer for The Exhibit(s). We’re not the best band on earth, or even in Birmingham, but we are the only band I’ve ever truly enjoyed playing with. It’s never work with these guys, even playing on a Tuesday when none of us is really feeling up to it. Eric’s a brilliant fount of creativity (songwriting, cover arrangements, guitar techniques). Chance is, like me, a jack of way too many trades, and the nicest guy you could ever hope to meet. Carlos — not pictured, possibly because he was making money that night — is one of the three or four best guitarists I’ve ever met (and I’ve met Steve Vai and Steve Morse more than once, keep in mind).
Somehow I seem to have this predestined hunger for knowledge
A talent for seeing patterns and finding correlations
But I lack context
I didn’t write those words. I quote them, from a band called Pain of Salvation. I find words in movies and books and music that connect with me quite often. I don’t feel like I’m being spoken to, unless it’s on a much higher level than I care to think about right now.
Whether I wrote them or not, though, I feel them.
My phone is ringing, right now, and I’m not answering it. I do this fairly often. Just because I have a cell phone doesn’t mean that I’m available or even interested in talking all the time, and that’s something to remember. It’s rarely personal if I don’t answer the phone — it’s not you I don’t want to talk to, it’s anyone.
If you don’t leave a message, I’ll probably not call you back. I’m not sure why I do that, but generally speaking, that’s the way I work.
I’m too lazy to create a list of 101 things about me. But that meme is all played out, anyway.
And I will spend the rest of forever
Trying to figure out who I am