Dude, lame. I get spam comments. I mean really? I don't need Gucci handbag spam. Srsly.
Anyway, look, I am back! Well, for a minute, anyway. Here's hoping that I actually manage to stick to it for a while.
The problem here is twofold. One, it takes a bit of time to write posts. I mean, yes, I am naturally amusing and stuff, but I do do some editing. Second part of the problem? Stress, of which there has been a great deal, puts me in a bad mood and I don't want to post when I am in a bad mood.
Now, the fact that I am posting does not mean that the stress has left the building (it has not), it just means that I am temporarily not in a bad mood, so I thought I would take advantage of the opportunity and post a few things.
They may or may not make sense.
So, here is the thing. The older brother of mine is an artist. A rather successful one, as a matter of fact. An artist who makes a living doing arty type stuff, which, apparently, if you are an artist, is a really amazing thing to do.
Being that older brother and I went to the same high school and are very close in age, we know many of the same people. Also, being that we both live in the same general area, we again know many of the same people.
It often occurs that I run into some of these people out and about. Here is how the conversation goes.
Me-Oh, hey there, so-and-so, haven't seen you for ages, how are things?
So-and-so-Oh, things are great, thanks! How is your super mega awesome artist type brother?
Me-Uh, yeah, he is doing great, thanks for asking.
So-and-so-Is he still working for super famous animation studio doing super awesome things of which we are totally jealous?
Me-Yep. Still works there. Still does art type stuff.
So-and-so-Man, he is, like, so super mega talented! I always wished I could be like him. In high school we were cool and stuff, but now, man, he is so super mega awesome that I don't even dare to speak in his most august presence.
Me-Yeah, I hear that a lot.
So-and-so-Oh, I bet you do! He is what all of us artist types aspire to be. Super mega awesome, super mega talented, all that stuff. I mean, if I could even claim the kind of talent he has in his pinky finger, I would think I had made it in the world.
Me-Yeah, ok, well, I gotta go.
So-and-so-Why? Are you going to go worship at the feet of your super mega awesome artist brother?
Me-Uh, no. I don't really do that. I just need to get some bread and milk, then get back to work.
So-and-so-Oh, what do you do? Did your super mega awesome artist brother teach you how to do whatever it is you do?
Me-No. I make wedding gowns.
So-and-so-Oh. Cool. I bet you wish you were as super mega awesome as your brother.
Me-Ok. Well gotta go, see you.
So-and-so-Right, yeah, well, tell your super mega awesome brother that we said hi and that we think he is super mega awesome and we wish we could be like him.
Now, I admit that this sounds absurdly effusive, but I assure you, it is not far from the truth. Dude has a fan club. There are two guys in particular that I think would die to be President and VP of his fan club. For awhile, I thought about carrying a couple of t-shirts around with me saying "E for President!" In fact, I went so far as to make a shirt for his daughter that said that. But, I kept running into so many people who were over the top in their admiration for him that I changed the shirt and made his daughter a new one that said "E for intergalactic emperor" or something like that.
Anyway, the point of telling you all of this was for one reason. I have acquired a fanclub myself. Yes, folks, it is true. There are people in this world who think I am super mega awesomely talented. Not only do they think it, they post about it on facebook! True story.
I texted the super mega awesome brother last night to tell him he was not the only one with an effusive fan club. He texted back that it was nice to have someone who could take some of the focus of his awesomeness. He counseled me to be aware that it could be a heavy burden to bear to be so awesome, but that he had learned to deal with it and was sure I would as well.
Wasn't that nice of him?