My Secret Vocabulary: July 2009

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Sheet Karate

There are two types of Sheet Karate.

1) Your alone in bed and you can't quite get comfortable enough to sleep. You constantly reposition from the back to the side to the stomach; legs and arms flailing as if trying to tread water amidst the sheets. If someone were watching from a "fly-on-the-wall" position, they'd think you were practicing a Mr. Miagi inspired Kata.

2) While in bed with your favorite lady-friend, you constantly find yourself waking up cold and half exposed. It's two A.M and you've got to be up in three and a half hours. The sheet tug-of-war that ensues is the Sheet Karate Dual that is of interest.

The how-to-win for the later, Sheet Karate Dual depends on the answer to one basic question: 'Do I want to get some action in the morning?' The strategy, from a man's perspective, is vastly different dependent upon whether the answer is Yes or No.

If the answer is No, then you will most likely subconsciously-half-asleep jerk the covers from her as if you were trying to set a hook on a flounder. She will wake, jerk back, the two of you will exchange butt-to-butt sighs and go back to sleep. At this point, rest assured that the battle is a tie but realize that this is not soccer and so the bout is just in between awake rounds. Eventually, maybe forty minutes later, you wake from your Bikini-Ring-Girl dream, cold and blanketless. At this point, you have a couple of options - a) repeat the previous hook-setting blanket jerk, waking her up even more pissed and returning to a quasi butt-to-butt slumber or b) forgo to her either the sheet or the comforter and wrap up tight and alone in the other. After all, your not looking forward to her morning anyway. Sleep now with your dreams with another (either past or future or Only); half-warm in the solitary blanket of your choosing; waking, half-rested and contented but without enthusiasm.

If the answer is yes, then the solution is simple. Forgo not neither of the blankets, but a piece of your bed-position. Spoon-cuddle and sleep-flirt. When it is time, she will wake smiling and thirsty. Simply follow the smile-instincts with which the early morning blesses.

Single and usually in-between the aforementioned no and yes, I am by no means an expert on sleeping, either with or without woman. If you constantly toil in a solo Sheet Karate as mentioned earlier, endeavor to dual, I suggest to find someone to sleep with. Wheather at bars, or coffee shops, or at postachio parlours with the nearest Publix, talk mad shit to the woman you think that are just a hair out of your league. Trust me, they are not. At the very least your will be moving towards a we and away from the dreaded by-yourself I. For even sleeping, and eating for that matter, with one from whom you are partially detached is far better than that lonely opposing option. There are so many woman (or men for the woman out there) that are nightly available while they wash thier single finished-with dishes - one fork, one plate. No matter how small or big or at-first-glance grotesque, they are out there and we should be too; we, the single, un-understood-for-now and competing Main-ful Lions; this is a dual that we can win, but only if we get off of that uncomfortable TV-infested couach and dare to begin. As for woman....what a great dilemma that I hope to forever absolve to understand, but deep-down wish never fully know.

Searching is as Fun as you wanna make it,

Do More Now

Why Blog?

Or perhaps the question is, why write?

Within each of us, there is a creative itch that longs to be scratched and writing is the way that I scratch.

But if you asked me why I want to be a writer; if you really had to freakin know, I'd tell you that no one really wants to be a writer. I'd say that I wanta change the world with a blue pen. I'd say that I'm a philosopher and a hypothetical painter and I want the Sistine Chappel and I want to depict all of life's little intricacies and be read and influence and imprint myself upon many others or, at the very least, just one person at the time. But I don't nessesarily want to be a writer.

At present, I'm a young aspiring liver, still walking just beyond the fork of that safe road that is otherwise travelled - you know, the one that is beset on all sides by security and uncomfortable shoes and collared shirts and/or neckties that are color-coded to the weather, and it's bordered by walls of spreadsheets and monday morning meetings and the company of perpetually-wrinkled forehead, gray-haired men who live in mediocre-tall houses and spend their coffee-stained-teeth lunches whisperedly dreaming of the one-day fruit of their 401k fortunes and talking about those poor young wretches who'll never know the ways that used-to-be.

But more specifically, I'm a two-sided man - coffee-stained-teeth luncher by day, Manmoth by night, and a 12-year old for at least one hour per day. But really, you see, I'm an economist right down to the souls of my shoes, and I'm an endlessly endeavoring understandinger of the seemingly endless external and internal aspects associated with all aspects of human life and in looking for the ways in which they differ and, more importantly, are alike.

In that, I guess you could say that I'm an altruist and that's what interests me and, at the very least, I have my philosophical question - "What is Good?"

But enough of the present this rant and these blogs are about a aspiration for a greater life.

In short, money, more college, travel and writing, good times, fun, publish book(s), make one of 'em into a movie, more college, teach, charity, love, experience, passion, growth, pursue interests and learning. The only real order of which is the money and the college, each of which are pivotal to the attainment of the rest.

But why blog?

I blog because I'm not yet a published writer and it feels good to put oneself out there, butt ass naked and vulnerable to the whole world and, in short, be read.

But then, why write?

To change the world with words appease my curiosity at the same time. One day, once I've written about twenty-seven best sellers at least four hundred and thirty articles and I feel like I've mused on all there is to muse, I don't know what I'll do to scratch this itch that doesn't seem to ever attain satisfaction. At that point, I guess I'll have to learn to spell or paint or play the guitar or maybe then it'll be about time to roll over and die. (For more vocabulary, visit www.mysecretvocabulary.wordpress.com )