I am absolutely not a fan of any kind of organized sporting event with the exception of professional baseball. Usually, I hate the grandstanding, the one-upsmanship, the showboating, loathed jocks as a rule, and detested the Icky Shuffle. I've despised football my entire life, have become extremely sick of professional basketball (see Kobe Bryant), have never lived anywhere far enough north to appreciate hockey, hated playing soccer as a kid, and certainly do not consider racecar driving a sport.
And paint me a fucking hippie, but I usually hate the idea of competitive events where I win and you lose. But goddamnit, I can't take myself away from professional baseball.
I love the eternal duel of pitcher and batter, a conflict of intellectual skill and cunning as much as brute force and physical prowess. I love this world of wooden bats (no aluminum, thank you), leather gloves, freshly mown grass and water sprinkled dirt, of tradition older than... well, older than television. Which is really not old at all. But, given our age of ever-changing reality programming and news that's based on out-scooping blogs.. well, it's old, ok? And that's alright by me.
On a different note, I've decided I'm going to be airing my neurosis around here. I spend so much of my daily, professional life maintaining a perfectly composed demeanor that I rarely have opportunity to vent my true feelings. I am the company's face for the client, and I'm really good at it; but fuck, man, even *I* need a break now and again. So you, my friends, will now be more subjected to my fucked-up-ed-ness. HA!
I also realized that I love looking through other people's personal pictures while never posting any of my own. I'm going to start posting bits of my life so if you want to take a peek, by all means.
And paint me a fucking hippie, but I usually hate the idea of competitive events where I win and you lose. But goddamnit, I can't take myself away from professional baseball.
I love the eternal duel of pitcher and batter, a conflict of intellectual skill and cunning as much as brute force and physical prowess. I love this world of wooden bats (no aluminum, thank you), leather gloves, freshly mown grass and water sprinkled dirt, of tradition older than... well, older than television. Which is really not old at all. But, given our age of ever-changing reality programming and news that's based on out-scooping blogs.. well, it's old, ok? And that's alright by me.
On a different note, I've decided I'm going to be airing my neurosis around here. I spend so much of my daily, professional life maintaining a perfectly composed demeanor that I rarely have opportunity to vent my true feelings. I am the company's face for the client, and I'm really good at it; but fuck, man, even *I* need a break now and again. So you, my friends, will now be more subjected to my fucked-up-ed-ness. HA!
I also realized that I love looking through other people's personal pictures while never posting any of my own. I'm going to start posting bits of my life so if you want to take a peek, by all means.
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by the way, i notice that you do fx for a living. you should check out my husband lubricatedgoat. he also works in la doing fx for movies... i'm sure you guys could bitch up a storm together!! you know, working for the devil and all.
i think that vutek wrote in my journal a few times before i left the site. now i'm sad. its nice to know that i'm not the only one with irrational phobias. my doctor prescribed me some zanax, but i'm afraid to take it. maybe it's just another phobia. i figure that if i start taking it for my phobia, i'll never be able to get on the freeway unless i've taken my pill. i'd rather find another way to get past this. does that sound dumb?