One of the things that I want to do before I die is write a book.
The thing about books is that they’re really long. And anything that is longer than a blog post is typically too long for me (that’s what she said, of course).
Another problem is that books typically require a plot, and I’m really bad at developing a plot. Or at least a good one.
One of the coolest things about my 4-year-old nephew, which I suppose is something that applies to all children, is his unwavering devotion to the things he loves. Namely, Cars 2 and Thomas the Tank Engine.
Especially Thomas, though. The engines that work and reside at the Island of Sodor are like crack to the kid. He simply can’t get enough.
He owns all of the trains and plays with them constantly, setting up their wooden tracks, but often going “off-road” with them all throughout the living room. There are many, many engines that reside in the Thomas the Tank Engine universe, and as such, he has many, many toys.
They are thirty-dollar pieces of wood with wheels on the bottom and a face painted on the front to complete the anthropomorphic process. Aside from the fact that some are painted different colors, they all look exactly the same. The only way to tell them apart is by turning them over to read the name of the train, which is written on the underside.
Unless, of course, you are my nephew.
Head on over to The Indie Chicks to read my latest “article” and to join the discussion.
Also, Happy New Year. I’ll have you know that I can already cross one of the things off of my list of resolutions:
Eat a pizza.
It’s on, 2013. It’s on.
My life changed quite a bit in 2012.
I remember standing on the deck of my parents’ beach house where I was living at the time, staring off into the distance. The only thing I wanted was to get a better job. One where I earned decent money. One where I could move closer to home, closer to my nephew and niece who were still growing inside each of my sisters’ bellies. One where I could legitimately start my life as a working man, back on the grid.
I got everything I wished for. And more.
A new nephew, a new niece, godfather to both. A new job, a new location. New furniture, some new friends.
My sister texted me to tell me that she watched the movie Safety Not Guaranteed, and that she thought I would like it.
Well, I loved it.
The movie follows three magazine employees who try to interview a man who placed an classified ad to find a companion for time travel. It is funny. It is clever. And it is heartfelt.
It’s a movie full of that guy.
The fine ladies over at The Indie Chicks invited me to write a little somethin’ for them, and that’s what I did today.
So head on over there to read my first piece as an honorary “Indie Dick:”
When Dudes Cry via The Indie Chicks
I started playing poker again.
They cut my days down to three or four days a week at work, so I figured that playing once or twice a week would be a good way to make up for the lost days.
The first time I played, I made just over $500 in four hours. Though it is a small sample size, it is a decent hourly. But I was a bit upset with my performance, because I could have won more. It has been 15 months since I quit playing professionally, and I have lost almost all of my killer instinct.
I went to the Cloud Atlas midnight premiere two weeks ago, and then immediately came home and blogged about the movie, like a true nerd. Then I promised to tell you about the premiere itself, but forgot, like a true asshole.