egan says...

Rational arguments don't usually work on religious people. Otherwise, there wouldn't be religious people.

my hero, part III

i'm currently laughing my way through my hero Chelsea Handler's third book, Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang, making every attempt to read slowly and savor, but having a hard time putting it down.

Chelsea's books have brought so many laughs and laughter-induced tears into my life, and the lives of my friends who borrow my books.

as i approach Chapter 8, entitled "Dear Asshole," i'd like to look back and share a few favorite excerpts from earlier chapters. here's one that had me laughing but also amazed how similar Chelsea and i are. the people who know me well wouldn't be surprised that i totally relate to Chelsea's choice to spend a Saturday night drinking alone and crying over a movie. except my movie of choice would be Marley & Me:

My friend Sarah called me at around seven-thirty to ask me what time I wanted to go to our friend's barbecue. "Not happening," I told her. "Shit's really hit the fan over here big-time."

"Are you crying?"

"Yes. Have you seen Sex and the City?"

"Really, Chelsea?"

"Yes! Really! You were left at the altar, Sarah. Hello! Have some compassion for Sarah Jessica Parker!"

"So you're going to stay in bed on a Saturday night crying? Is that your game plan?"

"That's my plan, but it ain't no game, girl."

"Have fun. Call me tomorrow if we're all doing happy hour."

"I'll be there for happy hour." I hung up the phone.

My Bloody Mary from earlier had evaporated, so I went to make myself another one and was glad to see the sun had gone down. "Thank God."

As I was stirring my drink, I asked the Clamato juice container, "What is Clamato juice exactly? It sounds like a yeast infection."

"After reviewing the label and coming upon the words "clam juice," then spitting out my drink, I moved on to my next drink of choice when resting. A scotch neat with a splash of Crystal Light Hawaiian Punch.

Back in the bedroom, I pressed "play" on the remote, and in doing so felt like I was finally taking control of the situation. Now the girls were in Mexico, and Sarah Jessica Parker was listless and slept and didn't eat. Conversely, I was in Marina del Rey, in my bed, crying into my scotch. I wished Sarah Jessica Parker and I could be in bed together so I could roll over, brush her cheek, and assure her that everything would be okay.

i highly recommend her two previous books, My Horizontal Life and Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea, as well. to read a hilarious bit from MHL, click here.

likely more to come from CCBB.

for old time's sake

the other day, completely out of the blue, came a pleasant e-mail from a long lost friend:

Subject: Was just...

Text: ...thinking about our first date and smiling. Hope all is well with you.

that's all. short and sweet. i hadn't seen or heard from him in so long. it was surprisingly nice to know he was thinking of me. i had to respond immediately. in typical short-but-never-very-sweet Matthew fashion, i replied:

How's that scar I left on you?

his response:

Still there. But it's an intimate reminder of you. Tell me again why we aren't married?

i didn't tell him again why we aren't married, but i admit that i took a moment to remind myself.

and i know he won't read this, because he doesn't read my blog, or know that i have a blog, or care about silly things like blogs, probably. this afternoon he's probably in his garage building a car engine from scraps, or feeding his neighbor's horses just because he enjoys the hard work.

but those are reasons why we should be married, which caused me to digress in my internal monologue reminder. because that's the type of guy with whom, in my mind, i'd be perfect. like the second time Carrie dated Aiden, and it was really quirky and fun and beautiful.

for that reason, i'll call him Aiden.

the first date, the one he was thinking about and smiling, was amazing, and i can take absolutely no credit for it. it was all his idea, from the rollerblading on an abandoned paved road, to driving the entire way to West Virginia to ride four-wheelers in the muddy forest. Aiden was kind enough to tell me beforehand to bring several changes of clothes, my rollerblades, shoes i could throw away, and swim trunks -- because once we were covered from head to toe in mud, and he was bleeding (oops, my bad!), we'd have to go swimming to wash off.

let me just point out that i didn't intend to run him over with my four-wheeler and put a terrible gash into his otherwise perfect, muscled torso. we were trying to get my ATV un-stuck from a fallen tree i had somehow run partly over, and instead of hitting the break when he said "hit the brake!," i hit the gas. it was an honest mistake, and he didn't even bleed that much, thanks to the mud. nature's tourniquet...

the swimming that followed was fun and refreshing. i weighed, like, 100 lbs back then so i didn't know yet what insecurity was. and he was nice to look at. dinner was great, and we had earned the 3000 calories of Italian food we ate. then a movie. then i conveniently felt too tired to drive back to my place. unfortunately, whether or not i was being honest about my inability to drive home, i actually was so tired after our marathon date that i fell asleep immediately upon crawling onto his bed. drat!

so why aren't we married, other than because it's illegal here?

well, Aiden was lovely-- IS lovely, i should say. i was young, though. although he was only a few years older, he was much more mature than me. he had no patience for my games or selfishness, which i would spend the next few years getting out of my system in a tumultuous on-again-off-again relationship with someone equally immature as me.

as i sit now and smile at the thought of that fantastic, bloody date, i can't help but think that if Aiden and i were to meet today, and have a totally fresh beginning, and live in the same area code, it all might end up very differently.

but no good can come of that kind of thinking, can it?

post(ing)secret(s)

a sense of entitlement

you know that first mental stage of a relationship, after meeting someone you like -- i call it a mental stage because, at that point, almost the entire relationship exists in your mind -- we've all experienced it a time or two hundred.

you think about him. you re-play meeting, or dancing, or a kiss. you have to tell yourself firmly not to text him (again). otherwise silly tween pop songs remind you of him (those are the only music appropriate for this first stage; make sure you have some on hand). you feel like you literally cannot wait to see him again. you know it's immature, and you either cannot help feeling it, or you simply don't care. you're never too old to have a -- yeah, i'm going to say it -- CRUSH.

you know exactly what i'm talking about. you've been there. and while you were, the one thought that was off limits to your mind is the realization that you barely even know this guy. reality is one of the farthest things from your mind during this first stage, and you know what? that's just grand. you deserve it.

for that matter, i deserve it.

i think each of us deserves it.

"it shouldn't be so hard," we've heard ourselves say. no, it shouldn't. but it probably will be at some point. that doesn't mean it is ever allowed to be so hard in the beginning. at the very least, you deserve a short period of time when it's easy and fun and just a little bit silly. it can get serious later, or it can amount to nothing, or if you're the luckiest (or craziest?) among us, you can revel in your crush for a long time before the love songs stop making your mind wander and the text messages stop making you smile. who cares what happens later (well, of course you do. enough to obsess over it. yeah, i see you.)? for now, enjoy the first stage.

i write this to serve as a reminder that you deserve it. i recently reminded a very good friend of her entitlement, and i thought it important enough to remind you as well. because we really do forget, don't we? we forget we're entitled to some simple happiness before we must face the long-term probabilities and the reasons to doubt. we forget that just because we're adults, that does not mean we have to settle for something less than romance. or butterflies. or whatever you want to call it.


i call it the first stage, because you deserve for it to precede every relationship and non-relationship that you have.

i could drink a case...

i remember that time you told me,
you said love is touching souls
surely you touched mine, 'cause
part of you pours out of me in these lines
from time to time

"you married each other!!? that's funny."

i just died from a cuteness overdose.

get a hobby!

you know what really grinds my gears? people who have a cause.

anyone demonstrating in public or holding signs or disrupting the peaceful hum of a bustling city street -- oh and people who try to hand me pamphlets or talk to me on the street, forcing me to do my typing-a-very-important-text-to-no-one performance instantly earn my most fervent ire.

today was a lovely day to wander around D.C., stroll around some awesome monuments, and sit on park benches in the sunshine. so i was particularly resentful of the protesters outside the White House who apparently think it's the 1950's.

are atomic bombs a threat right now? should we be practicing hiding underneath our desks? maybe. i don't know. correct me, please, if i'm ignorant of some important nuc-u-lar bomb related news. but of all the issues about which these bitches could've been voicing their concerns -- health care? defense spending? even gay marriage, which today became legal in this great District (!!!!) -- i don't see how bombs are a priority.

i'm just sayin'.

quote of the week, thus far

"Listen, if you're going to keep cooking and making these Martha Stewart recipes, you need to learn how to make them without butter."

-Shaunice, who agrees that we both need to stop eating so much in this house.

if you'd ever get to know me

going through my big cd case this morning, tracing my steps through more than a decade of music, i settled on Liz Phair (AKA Alicia Silverstone's look-alike) to provide the day's soundtrack.

god i was so obsessed with this cd.

live your way into the answer

I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

-Letters to a Young Poet



thanks to T. Toretti for the reminder. XOXOXO.

really? 30 years ago?

vintage Brooke Shields in The Blue Lagoon.


yes, i'm still in this 80's and 90's movies phase.

post(ing)secret(s)

ehrmann says...

“Be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the tress and stars. In the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul."

these days, life is neither noisy nor full of confusion. these days the noise and confusion are internal. so much to do/what should i do? so many options/are any of these options feasible? what will make me successful/what will make me happy?

so many questions, so few answers. you know, this isn't how my adult life has played out thus far. i'm a guy who likes plans and time-lines and flowcharts. and i'm a guy who traditionally has stuck to the plans laid.


time to get back on the grid, i guess. but first, i'll focus on the task - the test ? - of keeping peace in my soul. which would be so much easier if my Xanax sources hadn't dried up...

rule for life #84

B. Adams said it best when he sang, "Your lonely nights have just begun when you love someone."