I spent the past two weeks at home doing the home things and it was awesome. I'm currently sitting in bed, trying to decide what's worse, waxing on... or waxing off....
I left here EARLY, believe it or not. I was sitting in a meeting Thursday afternoon when the bossman mentioned that he usually flies out early FRIDAY morning, as opposed to Saturday morning. Which got me thinking.... did that ticket say 8 or 9? So during the meeting, I look up the email I received with the flight information on it and ask myself... What's today? Holy crap! Apparently, I can't read time vs date and realize I leave Mumbai in about 8 hours! Yay and holy shit all at the same time! I haven't packed jack and I'm so anxious to leave, I KNOW I'm going to forget something. I rush to my room and pack the entire thing in about 45 minutes while drinking the bottle of vodka I had bought the weekend before. Not too shabby, but too small of a bottle. Dug into the bottle of whiskey and realized why that shit was so cheap. Tasted like dirty tea water. Had A glass and gave the rest to J Buck as a gift.
The flight to Frankfort was non-existent. Slept the ENTIRE way. Even had a middle seat but didn't care much because the only time I got up was to gather my things and head to the terminal. Got the the Lounge and noticed something. What the eff was that awful smell??? And then I realized.... that awful smell was coming from me. I smelt like I had run a 5k in my button up, swam in the Trinity River, and then ate dirty towels. I wouldn't even sit next to me if I had to. Thank the Lord someone advised me to put a shirt in my carry-on that I DIDN'T take out in India as a precaution for such an occasion. Changed into a t-shirt that was a tad too small but DIDN'T care because it smelled like detergent rather than lake water.
Got home at 2:30pm and looked like poop. My long ass hair was all curled up like a baby turd, my pants were a wrinkled mess, my eyes looked like I hadn't slept in 6 weeks (probably cause I HADN'T) but the grin on my face took the place off all of that. Spent the night with B and Nathan and Travis and Amanda, Sherlocks style. Already....
Saturday was spent at a bday party for the famous Christy Beaver a.k.a Coco on the Radio. Had a blast and WAY too much to drink. Ended the night with a Christy/Roger emotional talk as always. So awesome.
Most of the rest of the week was spent moving into, what I'm told, is an adult apartment. Bigger, more expensive, and WAY nicer than any of my others. I actually have adult art on the wall (I mean pictures, not naked people) and matching furniture and shit. It's wild. I DO, however, have my music room that looks tight as hell. All it needs now are instruments. (Hint hint... bday coming soon. Just saying).
Spent the first part of the week moving me in and the rest moving Bryan in. Which made for an AWESOME week of workout but still look an Ethiopian after a bowl of rice. Stupid stomach issues....
Went to Austin the following weekend to celebrate my boy's bday with Andrew. Andrew and I hadn't done that in so long, it was pretty bad ass to catch up and actually talk on the way there. Stopped for some beef jerky and got pretty effing hammered while we were down there. Started early, ended late, and that's all that mattered. I did drink enough to eat pizza that night. And I'm STILL paying for it now. No lie. This ulcerative proctitis ain't no joke. Good times either way. The way back was a lot quieter than the way down there. Could have been because of Mr Hangover, but hey... whatever. Good times.
Had a nice break from the Indian life. Got to eat some stuff I know what it consists of, got to hang out with some awesome people, sing some karaoke, drive my car, and hang out with some awesome people. Did I say that already?
Arrived back in Mumbai early Monday morning. Slept just a tad and headed to the new work schedule: 2pm to 12am. Eeek... less dranking time for THIS nigga. That's ok. May be good for me. Or I could get really pissed at people and cut someone.
Eh. We'll see.
To get a little serious on that ass....
I've been thinking lately about how stupid I can be. One of those, I know what I'm doing wrong and I keep doing it. Why? Because it feels good for about 10 minutes and then I feel like running into a patch of cacti naked with a boner. Which brings the question: wax on? Or wax off?
Waxing on:
Doing what I've been preaching for the past almost 10 years of my life - do whatever makes you happy because no one else will. Only YOU know what it is that makes you happy; that makes you smile; that makes you wanna sing show tunes in the privacy of your own room. So I'd say do it! Do whatever peels your potato; whatever floats your turd; whatever yanks your chain; whatever fries your bologna. Because ultimately, we don't have a lot of time here and you may as well be smiling while you're here. The only problem with that is, when you do whatever makes YOU happy, you have to realize the consequences. Whatever makes YOU happy doesn't always make other people happy. It doesn't always coincide with other people's feelings or emotions. And that can sometime be dangerous and hurtful and malicious. And who wants that kind of karma? It's like eating a bowl of beans before a road trip: sure it is delicious and filling but what comes next? You're in a car with 4 people and no one can breathe for 3 hours because SOMEONE had to eat the musical fruit. Not fair. But so what? You had fun...
So what next? Wax off....
Do what makes you happy for 10 minutes? Or realize that the 10 minutes of happiness you're feeling now doesn't even COMPARE to the days of anger and frustration you'll feel afterward? Realizing that your actions now will only be reflected in the things that are to come later - THAT'S the ticket. Knowing that whatever you decide to do now may suck so bad, it feels like eating pizza with an intestinal problem (HELLO!), but when its over, you still feel good enough to keep on trucking. And maybe... just maybe... the next time it comes around, you'll be just a little bit stronger to move on. Because you know what, that long lasting, tastes so good you'll slap your mama, blissful, beautiful peace you feel when you DON'T do it anymore is WAY better than those 10 minutes. Those 10 minutes are like a fat girl eating a Mini M&M-you know a lot more would be great, but its going to take a LOT of Minis to equal the feeling you feel when you can walk up on a curb and not start sweating. You know what I'm saying?
Wax on all you want to, baby... but waxing off? That's for me, nigga.
Until next time....
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