9.28.14

Breakfast - Cinnamon Roll Pancakes, 2 eggs over medium, bacon and sausage
Lunch - Chocolate milk
Dinner - Personal Pepperoni Pizza from Pizza Hut

Layovers

There's something about a layover.

I was just stuck in DFW for an extra two hours due to a flight delay. Most people hate layovers, but not me. I think it's because I'm single. No seriously. Like, I don't have a family that I'm anxious to get home to or something. I got nowhere to be but present in the moment.

Airports are universally known as prime people watching venues. Everyone is all hustle and bustle trying to make it to their connections. Parents are toting children, old people are hopping on tram cars, and business men are trying to make important phone calls while fighting the teenagers for power outlets. Everyone is focused on where they're about to be, not where they are.

I caught myself walking the terminal for a portion of those two hours today. Up and down the strip, straight through the middle of the crowd. People squeezing by on both sides with glazed looks over their faces. I am Moses parting the red sea of airport foot-traffic. 

With the right music in your ears this is a beautiful thing. Everything slows down and moves fast all at the same time. So much life happening around you. It's like being in the zone. Even better if it's a rainy layover.

Music is a big part of layovers. I have a playlist for just the occasion. (You can check it out here. I imagine there is a certain group of people that share this airport music experience with me so the playlist is public. Please add to it!)

John Mayer's Wheel started all this for me. "Airports see it all the time. Where someone's last goodbye blends in with someone's sigh, cause someone's coming home in hand a single rose… And that's the way this wheel keeps working now." People are always, and will always, be coming and going.

These days the majority of the music on my layover playlist is slow depressing transient stuff. I blame the movies. I guess I believe that if I provide the soundtrack, life will provide the story. Not that I'm looking for a sad depressing story in my life, just that it seems the most fitting for airport scenarios. Elizabethtown and Garden State, if ya know what I mean. And anything that gets me closer to either Natalie Portman or Kirsten Dunst is a good thing in my book.

I imagine my feelings towards layovers will eventually change. Someday my work will catch up with me and I'll be the one sending emails. Or I'll have a real family at home anxiously awaiting my return, rather than just a dog with an overactive bladder. But I hope I never lose sight of being present where I'm at. Of being ok with focusing on where I am, rather than where I'm going.

9.15.15

Breakfast - two blueberry poptarts (thanks for the refuel CJC)
Lunch - Chuy's chicken quesadilla
Dinner - crackers and cheese


Going Crazy

I'm beginning to understand how people go crazy.

Remember after high school when you went away to college for your freshman year and the world felt new? You got jazzed on life and came back for the summer so energized about the world, feeling like you could conquer anything? But while you were home catching up with your old friends, the stories would begin to circle about that one kid. The kid who unfriended everyone on Facebook, joined a fraternity or something and is now a completely different person. The kid who went crazy.

Fast forward 5 years and now that kid is nothing but folklore. Maybe he's in the African jungle helping to fix orphans with clef pallets. Maybe he's in silicone valley inventing apps that help us determine how dehydrated we are based on the color of our pee. And maybe he's a college dropout who still lives at home and bar tends to make ends meet. Who knows?

But I think I finally get that kid.

He was the bold one. No matter how he turned out or what he went through, I think he was the bold one. He was the one who wasn't afraid to let go of the past and go full tilt into the future. He wiped the slate clean, said what the heck, and did exactly what he wanted to do. He reinvented himself.

And I think the only reason this guy gets labeled as the crazy one is because he was so all-in. To the people in his new life, I'm sure he was just a normal dude. But to the old people who knew him prior to his extreme deviation, they think a screw got loose upstairs.

I can't bring myself to do that; to wipe the slate clean completely. I'm afraid of being labeled the crazy guy. But boy do I envy him. Who of us hasn't entertained the idea of deleting social media, getting rid of our phones and going completely off the grid Mosquito Coast style?

For me, the allure of the clean slate lies in getting the opportunity to re-prioritize and re-evaluate everything; all of this. I really don't know how to put that into words any better. Simply a re-evaluation of life, how you spend it and who you spend it with.

I think this becomes most tempting for me when I'm feeling the pressure of my past. What I mean by that is that I am selfish, shallow and insecure. I am tempted to start over and let go of old reputations, but I can't do it because I am holding on too strongly to what people think of me. I mean, I worked very hard to subconsciously manipulate the way you perceive me. I have strategically planned and crafted posts, tweets, text messages, phone calls and hangouts to manage my reputation. I'm very thorough, intentional and over the top. I can't help it. It's who I am. Even now, I want to tell you about how I have a Masters in the Science of Marketing with a focus on Corporate Reputation Management because I want you to see how relevant that is to this topic of conversation, while simultaneously causing you to think of me as educated. My guess? It semi-worked.

The irony is that I (and I'll go ahead and say "we" cause I doubt I'm the only one with this problem) we are all going crazy trying not to look crazy. And the truth is that it is exhausting. That's why I'm starting to understand how people go crazy. It's not that a screw has gotten loose upstairs, it's that they've truly stopped caring what other people think and they've found a relaxing freedom to re-evaluate their lives.

I'm exhausted and envious of that relaxing freedom. Thankfully, simply admitting that helps.

If you're a friend of mine, and I mean really a friend, please call me out next time you see me going crazy trying not to look crazy. Call me out so we can be human together and talk about it. It'll be supes rad I'm sure. Thanks.

9.4.14

Breakfast - 2 frosted blueberry poptarts with sprinkles
Lunch - Double Bacon Cheese Burger at Five Guys
Dinner - Protein bar and Chocolate Milk


My Favorite Shirt

I have a favorite shirt. Doesn't everybody?

My favorite shirt is a faded tattered rag that's stained and presumably filthy - no matter how many times you wash it. It's the kind of shirt that my wife will someday try and throw away without me knowing because it disgusts her so much. But I'll inevitably find it in the trash, run it through the wash, then get it back in action (Such a dad move. Anyone else's dad wear ratty clothes that always pissed off your mom? Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.)

I got this shirt for free my freshman year of college. It was one of those giveaways to the first 1000 students at the game kind of thing. So yes, it's a Florida State Football shirt. Since it was free I imagine it was made cheaply, which is why I'm not surprised that it's not very soft, but, why I am surprised that it doesn't have more holes in it already.

The front is simply the image of a football with the words "Florida State" on it. The back is a tobacco free ad campaign image. I don't really have any particular feelings towards these images, but they're simple and to the point. Which I very much like about it.

Originally the shirt was white with garnet markings. It also didn't fit too well. But by now the white has certainly faded to a dingy grey and the fabric has been broken in. I love that. I love the fade and fit. It says, "this shirt's been worn and it's gone places." It almost alludes to a legacy or something. Yes, a legacy. This shirt has a legacy.

I don't know what it is about this shirt that I love so much. I'm seriously struggling with putting it into words. Anytime I buy a nice new shirt I'm always afraid to wear it too much. I don't want it to get stained, stretched or torn. But with this shirt I have no fear. It's the one that has stood the test of time, I guess. If anything, the stains, stretches and tears only continue to add to its character. It can't be ruined, only improved.

I love this shirt and I love what it says about me when I wear it.

Florida State

That's what it says. It tells people where I'm from. And I'm proud of where I'm from. There's strength and there's legacy in where I'm from. I take that strength, I take that legacy and I wear it with pride. Florida State. My alma mater.

My favorite shirt. Go Noles!