I'm Han Solo

There is no special reason for this post. Other than the YouTube video which inspired it. I spent this Saturday night learning each move, and not just because I wanted to master the 'Chewie Hug.'

Kinect Star Wars Dancing - 'I'm Han Solo'

Things We Learned #1 (Things We Learned from 'Sleeping with the Enemy')

#10)  It's possible to get a job that pays enough for rent & bills with no social security number or references of any kind.

#9)   Rental houses in small towns only have rotary style phones. (Especially in Iowa.)

#8)   You can keep an OCD sufferer's house spotless, yet never appear to actually clean anything.

#7)   Gymnastics training causes bruises.

#6)   Foods from a can are fine, but they'd better be in pitch-fucking-perfect formation in the cupboard. Or else.

#7)   Julia Roberts in male drag looks like Jeff Foxworthy.

#6)   Before shooting your abusive, estranged husband, there's always time to place a quick phone call.

#5)   You'll easily hit and shatter lightbulbs on light poles more than 10 feet high, in 5 tries or less.

#4)   Much like drinking at 10AM, if you have sex before it's 1PM, it's considered 'a little too early for this.'

#3)  A wedding ring flushed down the toilet will eventually find its way back up the plumbing drain pipes, so probably best not to flush it.

#2)  Ditto for the 6 inches of hair you cut off to disguise yourself. (See #3)

#1)  Saying you 'support' someone's job is just a fancy way of saying 'I allow it.'

The Gay Man's Oscars (aka The Golden Globes)

Tonight marked the night I look forward to more than any other night of the new year. That's right. The Gay Man's Oscars: The Golden Globes.

While everyone else looks forward to the AMPAS' celebration in February, I set my sights on this boozy, pill-addled riot-fest of an awards show where stars look natural in their native habitat. Where else can one see things like Jodie Foster reduce grown actresses to tears by simultaneously coming out of the closet and cheekily retire from acting, all while Amy Poehler mugs with perfection in 'man-face' with George Clooney and Julia Roberts tries desperately to remain relevant? It's the Golden Globes, people! And this year featured the dynamic duo known as Po-Fey (i.e., Amy Poehler and Tina Fey) as quite possibly the best dual hosts ever. (Seriously, can these two host everything that will ever be from now until the end of all things?)

Here are some of the night's highlights (thank you Seth Meyers and the entire SNL writing team!):

Amy: "That's what makes tonight so special. Only at the Golden Globes do the beautiful people of film rub shoulders with the rat-faced people of television."
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Amy: "It was a great year for film, for women in film. Kathryn Bigelow nominated tonight. I haven't really been following the controversy over Zero Dark Thirty, but when it comes to torture, I trust the lady who spent three years married to James Cameron." (BOOM. Genius.)
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Tina: "Of course we want to thank our hosts tonight, the HFPA, for having us. Amy, tell the people a little bit about the HFPA."
Amy: "Yes, Tina, well, when left untreated HFPA can lead to cervical cancer. However, there is a vaccination-"
Tina: "No, no, no, Amy, that's HPV."
Amy: "Oh, I'm sorry. Of course. The HFPA is the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, and when left untreated-"
Tina: "No, no. She's kidding. There is, uh, no known cure for the Hollywood Foreign Press."
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Tina: "The beautiful Anne Hathaway is here tonight. Anne Hathaway, you gave a stunning performance in Les Miserables. I have not seen someone so totally alone and abandoned like that since you were on stage with James Franco at the Oscars."
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Amy: "Meryl Streep is not here tonight. She has the flu. And I hear she's amazing in it."



What a night for a coming out party. Congratulations, Jodie Foster for showing your pride with dignity and grace and to Po-Fey for an amazingly hilarious job well done. This is why I love The Globes.

So long, farewell, good night, 2012.

On this night one year ago I was at a party in New Jersey with my friend Anu, probably thinking 'wow, what a year.' That seems to be the running tag line for all of my end-of-year mental review sessions. The difference is, last year, I was at a crossroads physically and emotionally, the likes of which I'd never known before. I won't go into the details here, as I feel they have been better covered elsewhere. Quite frankly, I don't feel like rehashing it all. However, I do feel it's necessary to point out the obvious. What a difference a year makes!

I have had one of the most roller coaster years of my life, yet it's turned out to be one of the greatest in terms of growth. I approach 2013 with a new-found zest for my life that I haven't felt in years. The last time I can recall feeling this hopeful and committed to myself and my future was in 2006. It's perhaps no coincidence that, as I sit here typing this out, I am listening to one of my favorite albums from that time period. There's an old part of me that would feel as though sitting at home on New Year's Eve would be some sort of calling card of my loser-dom, but not now. Not this year. I can't think of a single place I'd rather be than sitting here, feeling good, reflecting on the things I've seen and felt over the preceding twelve months. It's been a time. And, so, after a year of many 'firsts', we come to this day. I say so long, 2012. It's been real. No, really. It has. And to 2013, I say: bring it. This is the year I turn thirty-five. This will be the year I start a new chapter with more focus and passion than I've ever had. This is the first day of the rest of my life...Happy New Year!

6 Harsh Truths That Will Make You a Better Person

When I stumble across an article on Cracked.com via The Anonymous PA's Blog (http://www.anonymousproductionassistant.com), you basically know I have to pay attention. The parallels between the writer's soap-box heroism and the subjects of my coinciding weekly therapy visit today are also not lost on me. I think that's technically what they call 'a co-inky-dink.'

This article not only tells it like it really is, it also manages to inspire me in a way that not many writers can. This is the equivalent of a good, swift kick in the ass that so many of us need, but especially me. Read on, only if you truly want to take steps into reality and all its harsh light. As for me, it's time to let the great work begin. (I may have stolen that last line from Tony Kushner.)

The 6 Harsh Truths That Will Make You a Better Person

Lies I've Told Myself

Despite this entry's melodramatic title, this won't be a diatribe on how I've lied to myself or come to multiple 'a-ha moments' through the help of therapy and Oprah. However, I have come to some serious realizations lately that beg the question: why do I convince myself that my warped thinking is 'the truth?'

Most of us realize at one point or another that the way we view ourselves is really the way we view the world, and, in turn, the way we are viewed BY the world. The general rule of thumb goes something like this: if I think I'm not worthy then neither will anyone else. I have been giving these thoughts a lot more weight of late, and it's been interesting to watch them play out.

Earlier this week, I revisited an old friend of a thought that continually haunts me since I was about twelve years old. My company's holiday party looming, I had my +1 cancel on me a few days prior to the event. It was literally like a high school flashback to being dumped right before prom. (Except I went to both my junior and senior proms with dates, so this isn't a direct correlation.) But, I couldn't ask for a more tailored exampled of how my thoughts still play out like some after-school special, minus the drug pusher or abusive step-father. I was overcome with these feelings of sadness and concern nonetheless. 'I'm ugly.' 'Nobody likes me.' 'Why not just kill yourself and get it over with?' Then the thoughts: 'Why are thinking like this?' 'God, you're a winner, huh?' Even my thoughts about my thoughts betray me! Damn you, brain! Shut off already!

So, it turns out that I decided to buck the tradition of wallowing in my own self pity and I went alone to the 'prom' and had a great time. Surprise! The more we wallow in our own sorrow and focused lack of self-worth, the more we really only damage ourselves further. After all, in the game of driving our lives toward our future, who wants a twelve year old at the wheel?

What the f@$% do I know? Oh, there's THAT.

Since deciding to leave Austin and take my act to L.A., it's been an interesting experience when telling people about my new goals. Reactions have ranged from the enthusiastic ('You go boy!', 'It's about time!') to the incredulous ('What do you want to do all that for?', 'Have you really thought this through?') I did have one person say to me, "Wouldn't it be quicker and less painful if you just downed a bottle of Drano now?" But, in his defense, he has 'rage' issues and I'm pretty sure a mild case of Tourette's, so I tried looking at it more as a commentary on his thoughts on L.A. and less about my abilities.

This whole think got me thinking, however...why do people feel this need to tell us their negative opinions about our life choices? Now, before you get all 'but, Rob, maybe they're just trying to look out for you,' let me say, I agree. Depending on who this advice is coming from, it could be they just want to make sure I have thought things through, and that I don't suffer in the process. To which my reply is: my thoughts may actually be my problem. Let's face it. At this point, I have been living in Austin for nearly 7 years. It will actually be 7 years next April, if you want to get all OCD about it. I never thought in 2006, I'd be sitting here, years later, contemplating the Universe and my place in it so much that it literally sedates me with fear. If I really wanted to make Austin my home, wouldn't I have purchased a home by now? Settled down and looked for a mate by now? Wouldn't I actually have a group of friends by now whom I could call 'family?' After all, when I want something, I have always gone for it. Ask my 11th Grade Drama Teacher. I still think Mrs. Reed probably thinks I am the most cut-throat 'Bob Cratchett' to ever lay waste to such lines as 'But, Mr. Scrooge, it's Christmas!' I did rock that stage, and there are no small parts...

The bottom line: this is my life. I only get one of them. I can't live it for other people any longer, nor can I sit complacent, while every fiber of my being is screaming to get out and DO something with it. I honestly feel as though the last six and a half years of my life have been spent frozen with fear. Fear of failure, certainly. Perhaps  (Definitely) a fear of success. My therapist once told me that people often refer to the 'fight or flight' response, without regard to that third, and undoubtedly most common, response: we freeze. When an animal is unsure what to do, it does nothing. Welcome to the Jungle. I have been sitting here frozen in a state of limbo for years, paralyzed by the horrors I make up in my own head, and, I still ultimately have very little to show for it. Living a suburban soccer dad existence isn't really all it's cracked up to be when there is no soccer, and you have no kids, or a partner with whom to share all of it. It's sad. I've turned into my own worst nightmare. The experiences I've been through have shaped me into a different person, and for this I am extremely thankful, but it doesn't make the sting of regret any less painful to know that the one true love of my life got away.

What I know is this: I love movies and I love entertaining. Some might say I was tailor-made for it, what with my only-child escapist fantasy world, and absentee parents, but the truth is that I just love it. I've loved it since I was old enough to walk and recite the entire book and lyrics from 'Annie' to anyone who could stand to listen to a spitfire 2-year old boy doing 'Little Girls' while channeling Carol Burnett. I love it so much that it's all I think about most days, and if money weren't so damned necessary, I'd do it for free. Now that's passion. And it's time for me to start getting serious about this life I live, because I'm not getting any younger, and time wounds all heels. So those who care for me will be forgiving (I hope) when I say that I've woken up from this self-imposed nightmare. And, it's a new dawn, and a new day, and I'm feeling good. So won't you feel good for me, too? (And if you can't muster up a little support, then just fake it. I won't tell anyone. I'll tell everyone. Probably on here. So, there's that.)