So, three years ago, fully entrenched in my first year of blogging, I decided I needed some sort of staple for my birthday, to see how I've changed over the years. I fell upon James Lipton's questionnaire from the end of Inside the Actor's Studio. Here is this year's compilation.
Phil (dramatic pause) what is your favorite word?
25: Asinine
26: Grace (as in that of a dancer)
27: Hubris
What is your least favorite word?
25: Dude.
26: Job,
27: Lastly
What turns you on?
25: Intelligent conversation.
26: Grace.
27: Simplicity
What turns you off?
25: Ignorance, and indifference to one’s own ignorance.
26: Bad and/or irrational arguments.
27: Low self-esteem with a dash of desperation
What sound do you love?
25: The ticking clock theme from 24.
26: Rain with a dash of distant thunder.
27: The ambiance of an afternoon game at Wrigley Field
What sound do you hate?
25: My dog, Scamp, barking at the raccoons at three in the morning.
26: Wire hangers scraping against the metal crossbeam in my mother's fabric room.
27: The unwanted cheerleading of an inept weekend producer.
What profession, other than yours, would you like to attempt?
25: Chicago Cubs’ play-by-play man. I’d say starting pitcher, but who are we kidding?
26: Well, being that I'm unemployed, I can pick anything here. Dramatic television writer.
27: Sportscaster.
What profession, other than yours, would you not like to participate in?
25: Anything involving tips. Never again.
26: We're gonna stick with last year's on that one.
27: TV Reporter
What is your favorite curse word?
25: Bullshit or horseshit. Any word involving animal excrement I find quite delightful.
26: Bollocks.
27: Fuck
Finally, if heaven exists, what would you like God to say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
“I suppose I have some explaining to do.” This answer will never change.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Smitten (With a Catch?)
Allow me a moment to describe my present physical state. My heart rate is elevated. My stomach is in knots. My palms are sweating. I’m typing furiously; it’s all I can do to channel my nervous energy. My eyes are burning, but I can’t fall asleep. And my face has broken out in a way it hasn’t since high school. I used an Oxy pad tonight for the first time since the 10th grade.
And what is it that has me in such a sad state? It’s simple. A beautiful girl has my phone number.
I can hear the social elite in my audience scoff. Ooo. Big deal. I know most people exchange numbers (and other things) like they’re passing out Tic Tacs. Well, I don’t. And since my last phone conversation with her, all I want to do is talk to her again. I left two messages with her this evening, and it’s taking everything in my being not to call again.
What the hell is wrong with me? This is why I have self-diagnosed myself socially retarded. Fortunately for me, it’s not a chronic condition. It only appears when I am utterly smitten with a girl. How do I classify smitten? For me, there’s a very specific physical symptom. I’ll find myself thinking about her, drift off into my head, and when I come back to the real world, I’ll be grinning ear-to-ear. I haven’t been smitten in… I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been smitten. Attracted, yes. I’ve crushed quite frequently. But not smitten. Never. I’ve never been so utterly charmed by a girl that the mere thought of her makes me smile involuntarily. I got caught doing just that today in the sports office.
Dan walked in and stopped just inside the door.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked.
I smiled just a little wider. I was proud of my answer.
“A beautiful girl,” I told him.
“God bless you,” he endorsed, in his best T.C. impression.
I’ve found myself drifting off as I’ve been writing this. Unfortunately, I’m reminded of some of the stupid things I’ve said to her over the past couple days and then I just want to bang my head on my laptop.
I’m about to reveal a very personal secret to you all now. I’m not proud to admit it, but it’s essential to the rest of this story. I’m going to tell you how you can determine which girls I’m romantically interested in.
I make a complete jackass out of myself in front of them.
The last girl who got my heart rate up caused me to walk into a doorjamb. And that girl was nothing compared to the one I can’t stop thinking about now. My jackassery in this case comes in the form of bad jokes. Really bad. Now, those who already know and love me will tell you -- I’m a pretty funny guy. When I’m at the top of my game, you better have Depends handy. Tonight, there was a running joke in the office involving an e-mail that I absolutely knocked out of the park, repeatedly. I turned my producer so red with laughter Kool-Aid man would have been jealous. But I told this girl a joke tonight that not only killed our conversation, but may have creeped her out just a bit.
There’s a much wiser version of me in the back of my head who is screaming at the top of his lungs “JESUS! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? THAT’S NOT FUNNY! IT’S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO FUNNY! YOU FREAKY BASTARD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
Hmm. That was a lot of caps.
Oh well.
It’s a good thing I have a bite plate to prevent me from grinding my teeth at night. Because every time I think of that joke…
Part of me feels like I need to justify my insanity when it comes to this girl. Thankfully, I started a list. It started off as a joke (a charming, if not funny one) during one of our conversations, but it’ll help me feel a little less crazy this evening.
It’s a little like Jeff Foxworthy. While his famous line goes “You might be a redneck if…,” my line goes “you might be my dream girl if…” Some of these are completely silly and superficial and I include them only to give as complete a picture as possible.
1. She loves her family above all other things. (She does).
2. She’s modest enough to go bowling on a first date (She is).
3. She’s a natural brunette, official hair color of the girl next door (She is).
4. She hates American Idol as much as I do (She does).
5. She has a dusting of freckles (She does)
6. She has a smile that lights up a room (She does, and the only reason I make bad jokes is because I’m desperate to see as much of it as possible).
7. Pure and simple, she’s sweet (She is one of the sweetest I’ve ever encountered).
8. She forces me to act outside my nature in a good way (The fact that I gave her my number AND called her is proof enough that this one is true).
9. She has great legs (Superficial, but she has amazing legs).
10. She’s an expert spooner (No proof yet, but dying to find out).
11. Everything about her is so perfect, I can’t help but wonder what the catch is (hopefully the catch isn’t that she never calls me back).
That’s just eleven. I have 24. In one weekend I have 24. But the most important one -- and I’m going by the evidence of our last conversation, not the fact that I haven’t heard from her tonight -- she seems to like me. I don’t know if I deserve that. I’m being a complete crazy bastard staying up late and writing about this girl I barely know. But I want to know her better. I want her to know me better -- to know that I’m not a complete lunatic once I’m comfortable enough to be me and not try to make so many DAMN JOKES.
See this… this is why I’ve been single for two years. Well, the fact that I haven’t been interested in anyone before this girl is a part of it. But a bigger part is this is the only aspect of my life where I am stupid, with plenty of room to be stupider. I am crazy smart, confident, charming, funny… blah blah blah blah blah -- but then along comes a beautiful brunette with bright blue eyes and a megawatt smile and I lose it. I run into walls. I have to handcuff myself to a chair so I don’t leave her 60 voice messages. I write three page blogs about her when I barely know her. This girl has made me completely insane, even though my friends can attest I’m one of the least crazy, most reasonable kids on the block (and if any of you frequent readers would like to swear to that effect I’d appreciate you leaving a comment -- you never know if she might stop by). But this girl has made me absolutely nuts.
I'm praying she doesn’t hold my insanity against me.
I'm praying she calls.
If she does, well, she very well may be my dream girl.
And what is it that has me in such a sad state? It’s simple. A beautiful girl has my phone number.
I can hear the social elite in my audience scoff. Ooo. Big deal. I know most people exchange numbers (and other things) like they’re passing out Tic Tacs. Well, I don’t. And since my last phone conversation with her, all I want to do is talk to her again. I left two messages with her this evening, and it’s taking everything in my being not to call again.
What the hell is wrong with me? This is why I have self-diagnosed myself socially retarded. Fortunately for me, it’s not a chronic condition. It only appears when I am utterly smitten with a girl. How do I classify smitten? For me, there’s a very specific physical symptom. I’ll find myself thinking about her, drift off into my head, and when I come back to the real world, I’ll be grinning ear-to-ear. I haven’t been smitten in… I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been smitten. Attracted, yes. I’ve crushed quite frequently. But not smitten. Never. I’ve never been so utterly charmed by a girl that the mere thought of her makes me smile involuntarily. I got caught doing just that today in the sports office.
Dan walked in and stopped just inside the door.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked.
I smiled just a little wider. I was proud of my answer.
“A beautiful girl,” I told him.
“God bless you,” he endorsed, in his best T.C. impression.
I’ve found myself drifting off as I’ve been writing this. Unfortunately, I’m reminded of some of the stupid things I’ve said to her over the past couple days and then I just want to bang my head on my laptop.
I’m about to reveal a very personal secret to you all now. I’m not proud to admit it, but it’s essential to the rest of this story. I’m going to tell you how you can determine which girls I’m romantically interested in.
I make a complete jackass out of myself in front of them.
The last girl who got my heart rate up caused me to walk into a doorjamb. And that girl was nothing compared to the one I can’t stop thinking about now. My jackassery in this case comes in the form of bad jokes. Really bad. Now, those who already know and love me will tell you -- I’m a pretty funny guy. When I’m at the top of my game, you better have Depends handy. Tonight, there was a running joke in the office involving an e-mail that I absolutely knocked out of the park, repeatedly. I turned my producer so red with laughter Kool-Aid man would have been jealous. But I told this girl a joke tonight that not only killed our conversation, but may have creeped her out just a bit.
There’s a much wiser version of me in the back of my head who is screaming at the top of his lungs “JESUS! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? THAT’S NOT FUNNY! IT’S NOT EVEN CLOSE TO FUNNY! YOU FREAKY BASTARD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
Hmm. That was a lot of caps.
Oh well.
It’s a good thing I have a bite plate to prevent me from grinding my teeth at night. Because every time I think of that joke…
Part of me feels like I need to justify my insanity when it comes to this girl. Thankfully, I started a list. It started off as a joke (a charming, if not funny one) during one of our conversations, but it’ll help me feel a little less crazy this evening.
It’s a little like Jeff Foxworthy. While his famous line goes “You might be a redneck if…,” my line goes “you might be my dream girl if…” Some of these are completely silly and superficial and I include them only to give as complete a picture as possible.
1. She loves her family above all other things. (She does).
2. She’s modest enough to go bowling on a first date (She is).
3. She’s a natural brunette, official hair color of the girl next door (She is).
4. She hates American Idol as much as I do (She does).
5. She has a dusting of freckles (She does)
6. She has a smile that lights up a room (She does, and the only reason I make bad jokes is because I’m desperate to see as much of it as possible).
7. Pure and simple, she’s sweet (She is one of the sweetest I’ve ever encountered).
8. She forces me to act outside my nature in a good way (The fact that I gave her my number AND called her is proof enough that this one is true).
9. She has great legs (Superficial, but she has amazing legs).
10. She’s an expert spooner (No proof yet, but dying to find out).
11. Everything about her is so perfect, I can’t help but wonder what the catch is (hopefully the catch isn’t that she never calls me back).
That’s just eleven. I have 24. In one weekend I have 24. But the most important one -- and I’m going by the evidence of our last conversation, not the fact that I haven’t heard from her tonight -- she seems to like me. I don’t know if I deserve that. I’m being a complete crazy bastard staying up late and writing about this girl I barely know. But I want to know her better. I want her to know me better -- to know that I’m not a complete lunatic once I’m comfortable enough to be me and not try to make so many DAMN JOKES.
See this… this is why I’ve been single for two years. Well, the fact that I haven’t been interested in anyone before this girl is a part of it. But a bigger part is this is the only aspect of my life where I am stupid, with plenty of room to be stupider. I am crazy smart, confident, charming, funny… blah blah blah blah blah -- but then along comes a beautiful brunette with bright blue eyes and a megawatt smile and I lose it. I run into walls. I have to handcuff myself to a chair so I don’t leave her 60 voice messages. I write three page blogs about her when I barely know her. This girl has made me completely insane, even though my friends can attest I’m one of the least crazy, most reasonable kids on the block (and if any of you frequent readers would like to swear to that effect I’d appreciate you leaving a comment -- you never know if she might stop by). But this girl has made me absolutely nuts.
I'm praying she doesn’t hold my insanity against me.
I'm praying she calls.
If she does, well, she very well may be my dream girl.
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