The pep in my step

Some days, I feel like a balloon on a broken string. Walking through the grocery store, I hear another guy talking and think, “Awww… Dammit. I’d say that. He sounds just like me.” On top of that, while debating the nutritional value of one brand of cottage cheese over another, I look up and see somebody else wearing a t-shirt I own, and may or may not have on right then. “Sonofabitch,” I grumble as I toss the carton of Daisy brand back in its place. [Sure, it’s nutritionally superior, but Martin’s brand costs 2 dollars less. Sorry, belly, but wallet wins this time.] To realize that I am, in so many ways, just one of the masses is depressing and oppressive. I’ve long known that I am an average white male [AWM]: sharp and skilled, but not da Vinci; athletic, but not Olympic; crafty, but not Bob Villa. Although I’ve accepted this brick thrown through my picture window, I won’t let its mess sit around in my mind for long. I pick up the pieces before I step on them and feel worse.

So I’m going to share with you how I inflate my attitude to match my shiny exterior. This is also known as “me at my most uncool.” When I feel empty, I channel my middle-school self and think back to those self-esteem exercises from Health class. I make a list of my quirks; the little things that separate me from Joe in the Dairy Aisle. I think I can hear you snickering… Whatever! Try it! You might discover things about yourself that you’d never before thought were special or attractive, but they define you. As you add them up, you may realize that these nuances draw others close to you.

…

I eat at least one bowl of cereal a day. Mostly Cinnamon Life.

I was born on the Winter solstice, so my parents thought about naming me Saul. I often wish they had.

I worked in a bagel shop after college because I didn’t know what I wanted to do for a living and, well, Bloomington Bagel Company hired me. To my surprise and my family’s chagrin, I loved it. Since then, I’ve taken up bread making as a hobby and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. I try to make a loaf of bread each week. I think my parents now like this because they get an occasional loaf of cinnamon raisin bread.

As a child, I rarely read books. Now, I always have a book that I’m working on, and I usually finish a book every week or two.

On some weekend nights, I’d rather laze in my apartment and watch Japanese animation [*blushing* anime] on my computer than go out to the bars.

I haven’t seriously dated a girl in years. I’ve begun to think this is an effect of what I’ve written above.

I still buy CDs.

Green is by far my favorite color, but I don’t own a lot of green clothing.

The house that I grew up in is near the intersection of Fail Rd. and 800 N. Ironically, I ran the 800m in college, often unsuccessfully. Fate?

I suffered an injury every track season in college and never ran much more than 50 miles in a week, most often running about 30 miles. Since I graduated college and exhausted my collegiate eligibility, I’ve not been injured and haven’t stopped running. Two weeks ago, I ran 92 miles in a week.

I love changing seasons.

I’ve been told that I’m mature for my age. I’m not sure that I agree, but I appreciate the compliment.

I learn languages quickly. I’m beginning to learn French, the language of love. That should get me a date.

For a few weeks last year, I needed to see The Fast and the Furious. Conveniently, the movie was on sale at Best Buy for 5 dollars, so I bought it, watched it once, and never looked back. It was worth every penny.

Art-house movies are my favorite, but I find novelty in shitty ones, too. I can’t stand average movies.

I’m a beer snob, but not pretentious about it.

A day without laughter is a dark day, indeed. With this [incomplete] list, a glimpse of me, I hope I made you laugh.

…

Make your own list. It’s a cathartic exercise worth 15 minutes of your day. Like me, you’ll undoubtedly leave much out of it. But you can do it again, whenever you feel like that empty balloon.